Snakes Hate Chocolate

by Renaud Roddecker

Today, five lucky kids will have the chance to fulfill their wildest dreams and meet their worst nightmare. Now they have to find the way out or they might lose their sanity ! But with the Snake in the place, nothing is impossible... AU

25. Back Into Hell

/!\ Content Warning /!\ This chapter and the following ones contain scenes of torture (not graphic, not a Hostel remake, I kept it clean), angst, and hinted child abuse (only hinted). Yeah, me too, I was doubtful of the content, but I think it's still safe when compared to other stories (I'm of course thinking here of the M section). Lots of things to be learned from Wonka's past here, like for example why he keeps wearing gloves...

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Veruca...

The girl frowned in her sleep. She vaguely heard a vague, chanting voice calling her.

Wakey Wakey !

The voice grew stronger. More distinct. She tried to open her eyes, but immediately as she did, a blinding white light forced her to shut them back.

Veruca...

The voice was perfectly distinct, now. She was awakened. She tried again to open her eyes, this time more slowly to get accustomed with the lighting. It was still very aggressive, and she had to blink several times before she had a clear view on the person looking at her.

"Are we awakened, now ?" Willy Wonka asked gently.

Willy Wonka ! She immediately tried to get up, but she found out she was unable to make a move. Instinctively she tried to jerk away and began to panick, and the next sensation was the cold of steel. She was laid down on her back on a stainless steel table, restrained by solid metal cuffs on her wrists and ankles. Oh, God, what was going on ? All the room was white and bathed in that aggressive neon light, with in a corner of the ceiling a large circular opening where gusts of wind came from, blowing strongly in her ears and cooling off the room which, without this air vent, would be hotter than Hell. Oddly, this room reminded her of the typical look of a morgue in polar movies. But then... it was the examination table she was strapped on ?

"Where am I ?" she shouted, trying not to yield to panic.

There was another man beside Wonka. A tall, skinny and wrinkled guy, with a scarred face looking like a skull, a black suit, a bowl hat and round glasses. A spooky morbid guy.

"Where are you ?" the chocolatier said with utmost cheer. "My dear, this place is my achievement. This place is where no guests may ever enter. You have the honor to share my greatest intimacy in this very place where I get all my creative genius. The Inventing Room is nothing in comparison."

It struck her immediately and cut her breath neat. "My God," she gasped, "this is Basement 13..."

"Exactly ! Well, actually, that is only the surgery, the real basement is much larger than that. Oh, I almost forgot the most basic politeness. May I introduce you to my assistant, who is also and most importantly my mentor and friend, Mr Wilkinson."

The old man bowed a little. She didn't say she was pleased to meet him, that would be a lie.

"What are you gonna do to me ?"

"How, come ! So it's only for you ? Not a word about your friends who are, at this very moment, hanging over a fate you wouldn't envy ?"

"You're lying. My friends are not that stupid, right now they are safe out of here, and soon they'll send the cops after you. You're finished, Wonka."

She had spat out these words like a venom, and Wonka's only reaction was a sarcastic smile.

"Really ? Then I'm sorry to have to disappoint you. Since you turned the power back on, all the systems are slowly but surely getting back on working, and I have aleady received some interesting informations. The cops did come, actually, but they just... didn't last long in the Chocolate Garden. They should've remembered too much candy is bad for the health... as for your friends, I'm afraid you have overestimated them. Oh, no, they're not dead... yet. They won't be of much use dead, I have to keep them alive. But somehow, for a strange motivation - or maybe are they really that stupid - they decided to come back into Hell. As we're talking, they're on their way to the Basement, and needless to say they do not stand a chance. When they're here, they will be mine."

"You're lying !"

"Is that so ? I thought it was obvious... that guy, that... Snake, he was hired to protect you, wasn't he ? With this logic, he will sure refuse to leave the building without you, or he won't get paid and everything he did today will be worthless. Then, the others. They will refuse to let Snake go back in alone, they will want to go with him, because they refuse to get separated again, they want to remain a group, they take all these risks for the sake of an absurd concept, for friendship ! Friendship that makes them blind from danger and that will ultimately cause their demise. And that's how they're all back in, purely and simply. It was just one guy's idea, and the other sheeple followed."

It was like a cold hand that clenched around her heart and squeezed. Of course. It was perfectly logic. If Snake was back in for her, they would all follow.

"You bastard !" she roared. "You stinking sick..."

"Ah, I love it. That's it ! Express yourself ! Let your rage out ! Don't you feel better, now ? You are trying to sound tough, girl, and I have to say you do it pretty good. But I feel something in your voice, that is not anger. It is fear. You don't need to hide it, you are terrified, little girl."

She was quiet, now. Waiting. He continued:

"But you needn't be afraid. Not now, it's much too late. There's nothing you can do anymore but let what has to happen, happen. Now..."

He came very close and reached out. She squealed and instinctively tried to withdraw, quite uselessly for she was solidly tied. But he didn't go for her. He turned on a small, black box that looked like a modem, which was displayed on a small shelf over her head. The box emitted an electronic whistle as it was activated, and then Veruca felt like two stickers being stuck on her temples.

"What's that ?"

"Electrodes. I just need a few things from your little brain."

She felt a slight vibration, but it didn't hurt. It didn't make her feel any better, though.

"Now, to answer your question, I have big projects for each one of you. You will all be part of a huge project I've been driving for years, actually the project of my lifetime, the very reason that made me become a chocolatier."

"What is this project ?"

"You don't need to know. You just need to know that each one of you bears in himself a special ingredient that can make wonderful candies if extracted and cooked properly."

"So you give pleasure to kids out of the suffering of other kids ? That is fucking wicked !"

"There are just some kids who deserve pleasure, and others who need to be sacrificed for the cause. Just think of how many wonderful recipes I can create with you five. Charlie's heart can make the sweetest chocolate ever. Violet's skin will be tastier than all the blueberries in the world. And your inner sour taste will be most perfect for a new recipe of bitter chocolate. I know, I forgot some of you. Actually, I originally planned to use Augustus for research about a new form of enriched fat that would progressively overcome traditional cocoa butter, thus reducing production costs with minimal loss of quality. What do you want, I'm a businessman first of all. As for Snake, he wasn't invited to the party in the first place, but I'll sure find something for him."

"And what about Mike ?"

"No, this little boy's brain is much too precious to me. I need him, as a new form of intelligence, a real human intelligence into a computer, to make the most powerful computer in the world. I need such a power for the greater part of the project. Therefore, by infiltrating the system he did exactly what he was expected to do since the beginning."

She didn't ask what greater project he was talking about, for she knew he would still not answer. Instead, she just sighed out of profound sadness, the kind of sadness you would feel when you realize everything you've done so far was just so worthless, so trivial. Everything you've done so far was just...

"For chocolate," she whispered with her voice choked in sobs, "all of this was just for chocolate. This is absurd... all of this makes no sense at all. It must be a nightmare..."

The chocolatier gave her a sharp pinch in response.

"Ouch ! Why did you do that ?"

"To prove you're not dreaming. Now, my dear, we just have to wait for your friends. Shall we begin ?"

Coldness. Stiffness. And an incredible need to pee. It was like all her blood was going down to her stomach.

"Begin what ?" her voice trembled.

Willy Wonka searched on a sort of steel tray and produced a small pipe bent at one end, and equipped with a wheel. She stopped breathing. A blowtorch !

"You see," he explained as he turned it on, creating a stiff, purring blue flame, "it seems that the only way to extract the desired sour flavor out of a rotten child is by... roasting. Is everything working ?"

"It is," replied the old man as he finished check several machines she had no clue what these were for.

"Are you gonna burn me with that torch ?"

"Well, that is the method used a few years ago, but it really smells revolting. Today, thanks to my assistant Mr Wilkinson, we have some more modern methods. But, since you are our guest, I think you must be given the privilege to choose. So, the torch, or the other method ?"

"What the Hell ! How do you want me to answer to that ! This is just plain mean !"

"Wrong answer, try again !"

She immediately yelled in distress as the flame passed over her bare legs, high and fast enough to provoke nothing more than a slight redness on her skin and a very sudden heat, almost painless. But the fright she felt could largely compensate for the lack of pain. And the humiliation, too. It was terribly embarrassing to be at his mercy like that. She who was used to being a little princess was now reduced to a guinea pig. She began to cry.

"Hurry up, I want an answer..." the flame passed again, lower and slower. This time, she felt the burn, and for a second a scorched smell spread into the room before the air got cleaned by the huge vent.

"Stop !" she gasped, totally out of her mind. "Please ! Stop it ! I can't believe you're so cruel ! I can't choose, how could I !"

"Come on, it can't be so difficult. Just say this, or the other."

He passed a third time. It was always calculated to bring pain without inflicting any damage on her skin, except for a redness, like a sunburn. Whatever was the other choice, she decided it couldn't be worse.

"The other !"

To her relief, the torch stopped and her tormentor tossed it away.

"Excellent choice... Mr Wilkinson ?"

The assistant obliged and moved to a console. He pushed a few buttons and turned a small knurl, like a volume control. A soft electric purring could be heard.

"What's this ?"

Immediately then, the surgeon pushed a large red button and the little girl shrieked in agony as her body was tensed, shaken and burnt by the invisible but continuous and cruel electric current that ran through the rack. The pain reached an intensity she had never, ever imagined could even exist. She screamed till she ran out of air, but her throat and lungs were over-contracted under the electric shock, and paralyzed. She clenched her teeth, and already, beyond the suffering she began to experience the dizziness that was the first sign of suffocation.

Then, the machine stopped, and Veruca felt all her muscles relax at the same time, as the air came back into her chest so abruptly she coughed helplessly, and the coughs turned into a mix of sobbing and hiccups. She was strengthless, both physically and mentally. She barely had the force to breathe, as her sweating face turned pale as ivory and her limbs had uncontrolled aftershock spasms. She felt a warm liquid in her hands, and she realized she had tightened her fists so hard during the torture she made her palms bleed.

"You are a monster," she moaned weakly. "And I thought you were a genius..."

"Come on, you can't be so weak already, we've barely begun ! That was the minimum power, here. To extract the sour flavor from you, the procedure is to slowly increase the power, until you begin to bake inside. It will take hours, but slowly, your blood will boil, fat will turn to oil and ultimately, your skin will practically evaporate. But don't worry, you will be dead long before you turn all liquid. You were of a great help against the monster up there, so I'll thank you by making your ordeal the shortest. Ain't I sweet ?"

No answer.

"Fine. Judging by your silence, I guess you are ready to continue. Increase the power !"

Veruca stiffened and braced herself, gathering her meagre forces to withstand the nightmare that would start again. Now.

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Charlie didn't know where he was. Was he even somewhere ? Hard to tell, when he had no sensation at all. It was pitch dark, and he didn't even feel his own body, as if he were floating in space. Was he dead ? Likely so. He remembered the tree that fell and crashed against the wall. Right after, he was floating in the black space. He may not have survived at all. So that was how death looked like ? Not that great. He expected cotton-like clouds and angels playing harps, or at least a cave with a pool of fire and a sneering goat-faced giant. But, no, there was only the black space, devoid of all sensations except for that mechanic murmur. Wait. What was that mechanic sound doing here in the first place ? A breeze caressed his cheek. What the !

He opened his eyes. He was not dead at all. What a dumb he was ! The place he was in was a dimly lit corridor, with pipes running on the ceiling and protected by a grid, the kind of corridor you have in a factory - in a real factory. No, he was definitely still in the real world, but the floating sensation didn't stop. Looking down, he saw that it was only because he was indeed floating, his feet a few inches over the floor, like in the Fizzy Drink Room.

"Damn !"

And as soon as he realized that, it stopped immediately and he fell down rather heavily. He stood back up, but he wasn't flying again. How did he do that ? Some kind of remaining effect from the Lifting Drink ? Nevermind, the most important was to know where he was and find his friends back. The memories of the latest events were kind of blurry. He vaguely remembered something about Violet, and also about soldiers and carnivore plants. And there was Violet's mom too. That made no sense at all ! The only thing that was still clear was the tree. He turned round. The wall behind him was shattered into big piles of rubbles, with a large remain of the fallen candy tree lying in the middle. He concluded that the Chocolate Room was right there, behind the large trunk. He began to climb up the rubbles and tried to pass, but there didn't seem to be any way through.

"Is there anyone over there ?" he called, but no answer came. Fine. He turned back again and looked at the corridor. Since there didn't seem to be any other way...

The noise was getting stronger as he progressed in the hallway, and when he reached the end, he started back, surprised and impressed: he had visited much less open spaces than the others, and therefore he was still not used to the real hugeness of the facility: he was standing on a cornice overhanging a space that didn't seem to have a floor or a ceiling. Out of the darkness only came a web of conveyor belts running in every directions, all carrying chocolate bars. There were different kinds of robots performing different kinds of tasks on the belts, like workers in his father's former factory. Some would pour delicious-looking melted chocolate into moulds that were then put under a press to be turned into solid bars. Some other would then wrap them in their papers and send them through a vertiginous course of lifts, turnstiles and even parachutes, to a place below where they were gathered in cardboard boxes and sent... God knows where. And this huge merry-go-round was going on and on, fast, uninterrupted, coming in and out of every direction at a time until the little boy felt like sea-sick where there was not even any sea. The distribution facility, he guessed, or conditioning area, or whatever name it bore, it was the place where the chocolate was packaged and sent outside. He remembered the map folded in his pocket and gave it a look. That was it: Conditioning & Distribution Area. He examined the map carefully and concluded that, since the corridor he came from was blocked by the fallen wall, the best way to go back to the main facility was to pass through the conveyor belts zone. He just had to be careful as to where he would go, cause there were dozens of possible ways. Let's move on. He walked along his cornice until he found a ladder that brought him to the inferior level. From here, he jumped on a conveyor belt, between two massive cast iron moulds, and hoped he wouldn't get lost into this impossible maze.

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"Oh, damned..." Violet moaned as she weakly stood on her feet. She gave a look at Snake, beside her, still lying on the metallic platform. "You'll be doing alright ?"

"I guess... I thought I was used to extreme sensations, but riding down the Chocolate River on that trunk, that was... waw..."

He stood up too. They were on a bridge over a very large open container, large as a lake and surely as deep. This container was the very end of the Chocolate River, and therefore there was a constant roaring chocolate waterfall falling inside. When the two kids had taken the trunk as a raft, they had done all the way down the river, going as fast as a hundred miles per hour where the stream was most violent. But that's the landing that was the hardest, and Violet had to use the best of her surfing skills for them to land safely on the bridge. Her exploit had been so incredible that she was still trembling of it.

"By the way," James said, "your surfing was superb."

"Thanks... I learned to surf in summer camp in Florida."

"Is there a single sport in this world that you have not tried yet ?"

She thought for a few seconds.

"Russian roulette, I guess."

They both sniggered.

"But what really happened up there, I'd like to know. That was weird, and creepy. I remember I was after Charlie, don't know why, and then the plants came to life, and it seemed like everything wanted to... you-know-what. And that tree, I mean, what the fuck, a tree trying to... fuck ?"

"Endorphins."

"What ?"

"I think the machine I destroyed with my rocket before we got to the Chocolate Room had something to do with hormone control. I'm not an expert, but I guess that the garden was created by growing new species of real, living candy plants. You get the point ?"

"I guess..."

"Yeah, that's very Jurassic Park-like. So, there had to be a machine meant to control the hormonal activity of those plants, preventing them from waking up. When the machine was destroyed, high quantities of endorphins were released in the air."

"And as we all know, endorphins give us the feeling of being in love. There was so much it turned us all insane, and brought the plants to life."

"Exactly. Good conclusion."

"But how did you find out about all of that ?"

"Jessy told me, but you don't have to believe it."

"Okay, so candy plants suddenly come to life, and you receive informations from a girl who's not even here. Sounds like a really bad fanfiction..."

"Okay, if you really want an answer, I smelled the endorphins. All the rest was theory. Now, we'd better focus on the most important: where are we, how to get to Basement 13, and when will I get my hands on those two hundred thousand pounds ?"

"Well I can't answer the last question, but I remember Mike mentioned this container was situated at the level of Basement 6. So we must be half-way through already..."

They gave a look around: the last time they used the communication passage, it was dark and dormant, but since the power was back on, all the machines were back on working in a joyful din, and the area was heavily lit by flashy white lamps that allowed the kids a wide view on the place, though most of the walls were still too far to be seen, and the ceiling was just barely visible. On their right they could see a serie of vertical rails displayed in a large square and going all the way down. Violet bent over the barrier to see the very bottom. In spite of the heavy lighting below, it was hardly more visible than the ceiling, but she guessed a lot of activity. A gust of wind suddenly came from under and messed with her hair.

"Wow, there's so much energy in here ! Looks like it's running ten times faster than before. Is it because of the restart ?"

"Possibly. Should ask Mike."

"Hey, wait a minute ! Sure, now the power's back, Mike should be able to hear us ! Mike ?" she cried out loud.

"I hear you," the bodiless voice answered clearly. It felt so good to hear him again ! "How are you doing ? You look terrible..."

"You couldn't believe what happened up there..."

"I guess you got a little hot, Violet. Very nice tank top."

"No comments, please ! Can you see us ?"

"Yes. The blackout had all the program restarted, so I have to go all the way up the system again, but I gained control of a few cameras. That's a good start."

"Okay. Veruca got kidnapped, and we're heading down to Basement 13 to get her back. We've lost Charlie, do you know where he is ?"

"Yes. I see him. He's fine, but he looks lost. He's moving towards the mansion on the surface, but there's no speaker at his level, I can't call him."

"Any info on Basement 13 ?"

"Nothing, but I can show you the way. The square structure on your right is the elevator pit. Just follow it all the way down to Basement 12, and there, you'll just have to look for a... service access or something, I can't get clear infos."

"Can you send us an elevator ?"

"There's no elevator working on the network for the moment, sorry. There's actually nothing else I can do in this current state."

"Okay, thanks anyway. We'll do by ourselves."

"Call you for updates. Good luck."

The voice went dead. The blue girl sighed.

"Okay, then let's get going." She glanced at the laser rifle at their feet. The only one left. "Wanna take it ?"

"You'd better have it," the mercenary answered as he took out his whip. "I'm not a fan of these guns, too impredictible."

She then took it and began to examine it. "Is there a rocket left in this one, or was it the other ? I just can't remember, it was so confused up there..."

"Well don't try, I don't wanna get blown away by our own weapons."

"Too true..."

She tied the gun on her back and they walked the bridge towards the cage-like structure of the elevator pit. There didn't seem to be any way to reach it, instead they could just follow its direction and began to climb down a long ladder. The wind was strong and warm during their descent, giving them the impression to be on a seashore. Violet noticed that, in spite of the white lighting and colorful design of the machines surrounding them, they were bathed in a bizarre pale, electric blue shade. She quickly understood where it came from: giving several looks around, she could see several strange-looking machines composed of large transparent spheric globes inside of which were evolving series of bright blue electric beams, going from the center to the extremeties of the globes with slow, snake-like movements. Like oversized plasma lamps, and those devices were to be found at different corners and levels in the area.

"What's all that for ?" she asked.

"I have no idea. Perhaps it's just for the show..."

"Could it, like, charge batteries or something ?"

"Yeah, maybe..."

After an infinite descent, they finally reached the end of the ladder, to arrive on a platform where a painting on the wall informed them they had reached Basement 7. Still a long way to go... after a quick look, they concluded that the nearest ladder they should take to continue was on a cornice on the side of a structure that looked like a big cornetto ice-cream, connected to their platform by a bridge. They followed it.

"Hey," Snake asked, "don't you hear some kind of buzz ?"

"No, don't hear anything. A buzz, you say ?"

"Yeah... like some kind of big fly. It's getting louder..."

They had almost reached the cornice when...

Tsssshhhhhh !

The buzz was replaced by a loud laser hiss, followed by an explosion of sparks right under their feet. The kids startled and instinctively knelt down for protection, but at this moment the bridge gave way.

"Aaaaah !"

Violet lost balance and fell into space, but the gloved hand of her companion - who had managed to grip to the edge of the cornice - reached out at lightning speed and grabbed her wrist at the last moment. They then pulled themselves up on the cornice, just beside the "cornetto machine". Violet's blue face, that was still almost indigo a few moments before, was now so livid it was nearly white.

"You okay ?"

"I think I'll get used," she said, panting. "After all, that's already the third time we're hanging over a sheer drop." She gave a look at the smoking empty space where the bridge used to be. "Why did it explode ?"

"I haven't seen it coming, but it was like a laser. I wonder, now the power's back, maybe..."

They began to notice that the fly buzz they heard before the accident had not vanished. It seemed to come from above.

"Things... have been... restart..."

They slowly raised their heads as he spoke. Yes indeed, things had been restarted. And one of these things was right there, hovering over them, vicious looking and armed to the teeth. The FlyBots were back.

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The electric shock stopped, and Veruca could breathe again. She had almost passed out this time, and now she didn't have the force to keep crying. Her body was nothing more than a cocoon of pain. Wonka could even take off the cuffs if he wanted, because her arms and legs were nearly paralyzed. And, that was unbelievable, but she was smoking, for the shock had turned her sweat into steam.

"Hmm, smells like roasted chicken," the chocolatier whispered with delight. "Oh, I guess what you're wondering about, but don't worry, we're far from done yet. Serious damage won't occur before a few hours."

He didn't really expect a reaction, or if he did, he certainly did not expect this one: broken and helpless, the girl still found the strength to sneer. For a second, it seemed like she had become back the nasty spoiled brat he spent all day trying to destroy. This caught him completely by surprise.

"What's so funny ?"

"That's pathetic. You are pathetic. You think you're going to get away with that ? So what, you'll kill me, and then ? You can't hide in this basement forever. Sooner or later, the cops will break in and get you. You'll be judged and thrown in prison, and all your business will be taken away from you. You've wasted your whole life just for the pleasure of killing children. How lame. And I'm not mentioning the worst case. My father is rich and powerful, he knows a lot of people. The mafia. He hired a mercenary, he can hire others. Tons of others. He will have you killed for what you did to me ! You're dead, Wonka, DEAD !"

He sighed. "Yes, perhaps you are right... hearing you, it sounds like a desperate situation for me..."

A glimpse of hope passed in the girl's eyes. "But there can be a way, Mr Wonka. If you surrender now and let us go, I will tell them to be kinder. That's the bargain. It's up to you."

This time, it was his turn to burst in laughter. "Little girl, come on ! Do you think I have not considered these matters yet ? On the contrary, everything was planned ! Originally, you were supposed to fall in a serie of sad accidents, like drowning in the river or getting attacked by rabid squirrels. Of course, your parents would get very sad and very upset, there would be an investigation and a trial, leading to the conclusion that these accidents were a pitiful hazard. I would give away the necessary sums of money to be proven innocent, and after a few months, everything would be forgotten, everyone would've believed you dead and I would pursue my task without problems. But, well, it didn't exactly happened this way, and now there's a whole mess outside, a siege, and they're all after me... I just have the second plan left: I blow everything up, and officially, Willy Wonka and his hostages died in the explosion of the Factory. I take you away, change my name, and resume everything in another facility, in another country. Both ways I win, and you, well, you are just... my pets. My guinea pigs."

"So you're ready to abandon your Factory just for us ? And I thought you were crazy, but actually, you're merely beyond insane !"

The candyman's face suddenly grew somber, and Veruca couldn't help but feel a slight enjoyment as she realized she had hit a sensitive spot.

"This Factory is all my life," he said. "This is my paradise, my sanctuary. I created this world from what I believe the world should be. In a sense, this place is not realistic when compared to the critera of the outside, but it is actually more real. For this is the place everyone dreams of. So many years I've spent selling dreams, yet I couldn't appease the nightmare of life. It is now time to show the world my nightmare, the worst ever, for after the storm comes the sun, and when the nightmare is over, the world will be in peace again. This is a noble purpose, and even if simply thinking of destroying my Factory tears me apart, I am ready to do it."

"So, you think you're gonna save the world by making it a living Hell ? Whatever, I think you can't be reasoned anyway. But I got a question: why us ? Why this contest, why did you take so many risks, to kidnap five children as the whole world is watching you ? It could have been much easier for you, with five random kids. Please, answer this one question: why did you choose us ?"

"Well, I think you deserve a little explanation, after all it was such a long and hard way to get here... some years ago, when I began experimenting, my first subjects were children I took from the Third World. They were perfect for me, because they were the kids nobody would ever come to rescue. After all, their original countries were too preoccupied by their own problems - hunger, wars, all the stuff - and the rich Western countries were much too self-centered, too egoist, to mind the disappearance of a bunch of poor children. I could continue this traffic for years, for years I used them to create the most dangerously delicious candies ever, and develop my production until I created this very place. But that was not over yet. No matter how many rotten candies I sold, that was only the superficial part of a plan I have been thinking of since I was ten years old. To achieve this plan, I needed something else from children. Something precious, unique."

"What's this ?"

"Their emotions. I need children's emotions. But no matter how hard I tried, I never obtained a satisfying result. Then, as time passed, I finally understood, that what I really need are the worst of the worst children ever. I need the darkest thoughts, the sheerest hate, from the meanest, brattest children in the world. I need Pride, Greed, Gluttony, Wrath, Sloth, Envy... but such children, able to contain so many sinful characteristics in their personality, were close to impossible to find. I began to despair... that is when I got the idea of the Contest. Five Golden Tickets, spread all over the world, allowing only five children in the world to enter my Factory and obtain a lifetime supply of chocolate along with a marvelous prize that would go far beyond anything they could ever imagine. I knew I would trigger one of the world's most heated competition, so heated that in comparison, the SuperBowl and the FIFA World Cup altogether are nothing more than a schoolyard game."

"Oh, no... my God..."

"Do you begin to understand ?"

"Yes, you knew that, with such a contest, only the most horrible, the most spoiled children could win, and that's what you were looking for. And that's what happened."

"Violet Beauregard, overcompetitive schoolyard bully, with a taste for humiliating the weaker; Augustus Gloop, whose stomach size is inversely proportional to his IQ, only living to satisfy his lowest instinct, the desire for food; Mike Teavee, lazy and arrogant mastermind, he is the brain where Violet is the muscles, but they're both the same in character; and last but not least, Veruca Salt, a crybaby, incapable, spoiled and cherished like a princess, ignorant, stupid, with an incredibly huge potential for guiltless mean spirit. Yes, the four of you were exactly what I was looking for. And I should even thank you for bringing your valet with you. I mean, someone who manages to be psychotic, alcoholic and insanely obsessed with his ex-girlfriend at only thirteen, it's priceless !"

"And what about Charlie ? What has he got to do in all of this ?"

"Charlie ? Oh, well. We all do mistakes. I wanted to attract only spoiled brats, Charlie is just, like... the exception that confirms the rule. But I can't let him live. I will sure need him, a child so pure. I was thinking of making him, like, a heir."

"A heir ?"

"Well, yes. When I'm finished with him, I will revive him using cybernetic technology, and put my own mind in him. I cannot live forever, neither can Mr Wilkinson, and I need someone to take over. Mike will be a great tool in my plan, but he is too instable. Charlie is intelligent and naïve. He could easily become... Wonka 2.0..."

"You lunatic ! Charlie is much more courageous than you believe he is. He is stronger than me, he is stronger than you ! And you'd better be away before he comes to save me, or he will get you."

Wonka grinned. This foolish and childish "knight-in-shiny-armor" expectation amused him greatly. What he didn't actually know was how close she was to the truth...

----------

The conveyor belt was a real assault course for the young boy, who constantly had to dodge pipes that would pour the chocolate in the moulds and play leapfrog with the fans that were supposed to cool off the bars-in-making and make them solid. One second of inattention, and he could get bumped out of the belt, which at this height meant a certain death. In front of him there was now a massive press that went up and down to give the chocolate its final shape. Charlie waited the last moment...

The press went up... then down, now ! The boy jumped on it and gripped to its side, but unable to withstand the vibrations of the machine, he dropped it and fell into space, only to be saved by a lift a few meters below. Waw ! He climbed on a new belt, but this one would end in a pit where the bars would get carried by an army of little mushroom-like parachutes. He was too heavy to use a parachute, he had to find another way. He began to run opposite to the belt to gain some time, but he was unstoppably going into the pit. The next belt was too far to jump on. But maybe... he closed his eyes and tried to focus. He remembered how he used the Lifting Drink to fly into the air vent. He remembered how he was unconsciously hovering in the corridor. Even when he wasn't flying, he felt incredibly light after drinking the magic soda, and he still did. The effects of the Fizzy Lifting Drink were still in him. He jumped.

It felt like he was jumping on a cushion of air, as his body, instead of falling, was getting higher and higher, until he eventually landed smoothly on the other belt. That was one Hell of a superleap ! But in his excitement, he didn't notice his new belt was ending exactly like the previous one: in a pit !

AAAaaaaaaaaaah !

He yelled in terror as he fell out of control. Around him, he could see the parade of small parachutes going up at a high speed, but they were not actually going up, he was going down faster than them ! Then suddenly, things were reverted: as he still had the sensation of falling, the parachutes were suddenly going down, faster and faster, and they disappeared below him. Then, he saw the conveyor belts themselves that went down. And then, a cornice he had not noticed before, a cornice that was much higher than he was when he entered the place. The "falling" stopped and he landed on that cornice. He looked behind to see nothing had actually fallen down, everything was still in place and running. He had just flown all the way here. But where was he now ? He left the cornice to enter a bright yellow hallway that ended with a single, luxury wooden door, like a castle's door. On the wall, there was written:

Production Chain Entrance, Level 1.

No, he wasn't dreaming. It was definitely written Level 1. Not Basement 1, but Level 1. That could mean only one thing: he had made it to the upper part of the building, and he was about to enter the unvisited mansion of the Chocolate Factory.

He pushed the wooden door, it opened smoothly, without a creak. Charlie found himself inside a room of average size, a study, with desks, bookshelves, a large couch, a personal computer... plain room as he saw often, on TV. Of course they didn't have that kind of room in his house. But although it seemed totally normal, something was terribly wrong with it. The decoration was simply an insult to good taste, even by his low standards. The floor was green, and the walls were painted black, with large double-helix figures painted over in a bright, flashy pink color that made his eyes ache. And there was no ceiling, instead the walls would just bend over, forming an arch over his head, like in a cathedral. And there were also pink helices up there. Looking too much at these made him want to throw up. He wanted to get out. He took the door opposite the one he came from and arrived in a long and aggressively colorful gallery. Here, the floor was blood-red and the walls bright yellow with turquoise bubble motives. The ceiling, very high above his head, was shaped in ribbed vaults, exactly like in a cathedral, and actually, the whole place had the grandiose, distorted, Gothic form of a cathedral, except that the colors simply ignored every aesthetic considerations, and even common sense. Usually, a colorful room has a joyful mood, but here, it was simply too much, it only managed to be creepy.

There was a good number of identical doors, bearing no indication whatsoever, on each wall, and a square of light at the end of the hallway, so far away that it didn't appear bigger than a dice. Okay, where to go ? Once again, he took out his map, and mentally thanked the Oompa Loompa again for allowing him to find it. He remembered what he was supposed to look for: the secret passage that would link the mansion directly to Basement 13. According to the map, the passage could only be accessed via Willy Wonka's office, at the top of the building... which comprised seven floors, and he was on the first one. The nearest staircase was in the direction of the square of light, at the end of the gallery. Okay. He folded the map back in his pocket. En route !

----------

"Think we lost it ?" Violet asked.

"Sure hope so..."

At least, the FlyBot wasn't shooting anymore, but the buzz of its reactors could still be heard from their position. They had rushed undercover to escape it, without really thinking of where they were going. And now, they were pretty uncomfortable, huddled in a space no larger than a closet, squeezed between steel scaffoldings in the middle of a group of large cone-shaped machines. In there, they had barely enough light to see each others' faces, though they were stuck together so tight in that small space that trying to look at each others was unnecessary. They didn't move. They couldn't see the FlyBot from here, for it was hovering outside of the group of machines, but they were positive they were out of reach. They waited, and eventually they heard its buzz fading away. It was gone. They sighed.

"Violet, could you just... move a little ?"

"I'd like to if we were not squeezed so tight, figure it out."

"Sure, but you got your knee on my..."

"Your what ?"

"You know perfectly what I'm talking about."

"Well, for your information, you got your hand on my chest and it's pretty embarrassing, but I bear with it, so don't complain."

"Yes, but here, it hurts."

"Oh, yeah ? How about this ?"

And without a warning, she swiftly moved her knee to dig it further in... you know what I'm talking about. He groaned.

"That's a very bitchy move, you know..."

"Let's keep the fight for another time and focus on getting out, okay ? I think we can go safely, now."

With lots of effort, they managed to crawl out of the scaffoldings and arrive back on a bridge, in the light, outside of the machines group.

"Phew, I sure hope it's not coming again !"

"Yep, but we've lost a lot of time and we still have a long way to go, so we'd... better..."

He didn't finish. The buzz was coming. Louder and clearer. And the Bot suddenly appeared in the air in front of them. Uh-oh...

Violet raised her hands as a sign of surrender, and giggled foolishly. "Hey hey, Mr Flying Machine, you're not gonna be too nasty, are you ? We're just passing by..."

She gave it her best smile, and at the least expected moment, she drew the rifle and practically gave it a shower of laser shots before it had time even to realize what was going on. Actually, even Snake had not seen it coming. She had caught them both totally unaware. The robot exploded in a cloud of sparks and smoke. Violet raised her hand as a sign of victory.

"Yes !" she shouted. "You fuck with me, you're fucking with the best !"

Under her companion's surprised look, she then began a showing-off dance, like a football player. But the dance didn't last long, for a few seconds later, in a deafening rush of reactors, it was not one, not two, but five new FlyBots that appeared in front of them, their guns pointed at their heads.

"Uh, okay..." she hesitated, suddenly much, much less enthusiastic. "What do we do, now ?"

"We fly."

"What ?"

Just at this moment, the robots shot.

Impulse !

Before she could actually see him move, Violet had Snake's arm tightened around her waist, and he jumped out of the bridge, bringing her along. They had dodged the lasers, but now they were falling ! She shrieked uncontrolled, as the Snake took out his long whip and lashed at a steel pipe, gripping to it like a grapnel, à la Batman. They dangled in the air and Violet regained her wits when they landed safely on the top of a red and yellow marquee-like machine. She was overly angry, and aimed at the five robots that were coming in their direction. They couldn't fight them all five with a single laser, but she had an ace in her sleeve...

"This time," she roared, "I'm gonna nuke them all !"

She pushed the red button to launch the rocket. Nothing happened. Finally, the one gun with the rocket was the other gun...

----------

The hallway was smaller. That's what Charlie kept telling himself as he walked on. At first, it was just an impression, or so it seemed. After all, a place as big as a cathedral can go smaller, and you wouldn't notice anything. But as it went on, it became obvious. The walls were narrower at each step. The ceiling was getting lower and lower, and now, if he raised his head, he could see some details he wouldn't have seen earlier. And even the floor felt under his feet as if it was going in a soft upward slope. Only, when he looked, he saw no slope, the floor and the walls were as straight as before, but against all odds, it kept going smaller. It was insane, like a reversed optical illusion: instead of seeing things he couldn't feel, he felt things he couldn't see. He had a chill. He really didn't like that place at all !

Finally, when he reached the end, the gallery was reduced to barely large enough for him, and he even had to bend down to pass. The new room he just entered was more of gigantic proportions, and it consisted of a great hall of uniformly light blue color, with a great, palace staircase which shiny balustrades reflected the pleasant sunlight. Wait a minute. According to the amount of time they spent inside, it was supposed to be night already, so why was there daylight ? Simply, he found, because there was no window, no door, not the slightest opening to the outside. And as he observed more attentively, there were no lamps either, nothing that could produce any light, so where the Hell did it come from ? In his observation, he found himself facing the gallery by which he entered, only this time, the tiny entrance was no more and instead, the gallery was equally large, not getting any smaller or larger, just... normal. What was this mansion made of, exactly ? Somehow, even though there was no danger, it managed to be as creepy as the Factory. Perhaps it was precisely because of the lack of danger. At least, he knew what to expect, down there. Whereas here, everything was twisted and impredictible.

No ! Don't think that way, or you will get lost ! Follow the map. That's it. Just follow the map, and everything will be okay. He had to continue up. He took the large stairway and began to mount, when a loud vibration brought him to his knees. Earthquake ! He crouched in a foetal position and braced himself, but the vibration stopped after a few seconds. That's all ? he thought as he stood back. That was a strange earthquake... or maybe it was not an earthquake at all... whatever ! Keep going ! That's it, keep going...

----------

The deadly beams of light kept crashing around the two courageous kids as they were running like mad, working solely on their own instinct, jumping from a cornice to a bridge and from a bridge to another. They didn't care they were jumping over lethal heights, for their survival instinct had temporarily made them forget vertigo. Besides, falling down and breaking one's skull on the floor seemed to them like a sweeter death than being fried like KFCs on a laser. The five FlyBots were tailing them tight and seemed more accurate at each shot. They finally found a temporary refuge behind a small red pyramid, where they knelt down, exhausted. They had a few seconds before the Bots found them and continued the hunt.

"Grechikah !" Snake shouted. "If these things were people, they'd be dead already !"

"You cuss in Russian, now ?"

"No time to joke, Violet. We got some serious business, here."

"Sorry. Have an idea ?"

The mercenary risked a look around. There was a cluster of those huge plasma lamps on a platform opposite them, too far to be reached. There was a ladder, this one much longer than the others, going several basements down, very close to them, but they would be too vulnerable if they took it. They had to get rid of the Bots first ! Against the only wall of the room they could see, there was also a firehose protected by a glass. Could be... no, it was too far away. But there were a few white domes surrounded by a whole network of scaffoldings between them and the hose. If only he could...

"Violet, can you distract them ?"

"What ?"

"I'm gonna draw their attention here. You keep them busy, and give me a few minutes. I have a plan. Can you do that ?"

"I guess. But be quick, okay ?"

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, like two militaries would do before a fight.

"See ya !"

He cracked his whip high up in the air, and immediately then, the Bots were coming, attracted by the noise. The mercenary jumped out of the shelter and again used his weapon as a grapnel to grip to the scaffoldings. Behind him, the hisses and bangs of rapid laser fires invaded the space. She wouldn't last long, he had to hurry !

Impulse !

Jump, dive, grip, lash, climb ! Within a few very intense seconds, he was arrived in front of the hose.

"Help !"

He turned round: Violet was lying on top of a dome, surrounded by the Bots. She wasn't hurt, but a shot too close to her had made her lose balance. Quick ! He broke the glass, grabbed the hose, took aim, and shot. A white spear of high-pressured water rushed out of the pipe and hit a FlyBot right in the nose, if you believe robots actually have a nose. The enemy was practically propelled backwards and, disoriented, it made a few uncontrolled loops before it crashed down in a cloud of sparks. The four machines remaining were smarter and abandoned their hovering position to fly away from the danger and come back to counterattack. Violet withdrew from her dome and went to hide under it. Now it was between the Bots and him. He shot and shot again, but the machines were fast to avoid the beams of water. Laser responses came to crash on the walls beside him. That was tight.

Eventually, he shot one of his aggressors that flew back and went straight into the cluster of plasma lamps. Oh, no !

He knew what was coming and immediately dropped his hose to dive into the scaffoldings, searching for a shelter. The Bot hit the plasma lamps, and the gas mixed with the kerosene mixed with all the electric energy triggered an intensely explosive reaction, a wave of radioactive blue flames that, though they only lasted half a second, devored everything in their path.

When the normal lights came back, Snake ascertained with quite a relief that he was unharmed... but half of his scaffoldings had melted down. He climbed up a little, to have a view on the explosion site. All the FlyBots had vanished in the air as if they had never existed. The red pyramid was decapitated, along with the domes and most of the other structures at this level. Oh, and the place where the plasma lamps used to be was like a big black hole, for everything in a range of a dozen meters around it was properly anihilated.

He saw the blue girl get out of her shelter and climb back on what remained of the dome. He rejoined her.

"Damn !" she exclaimed. "What did he put in those lamps ?"

"Don't think it was ordinary gas..."

"Yeah, by the way..." she held up her rifle. "Next time we're in trouble, let's just use this, it's a lot safer."

"I don't think we'll meet other Bots here. I hope so. Let's move on." He waved his hand at his left. "I saw a ladder in this way. We're almost arrived."

----------

This one was cyan and bright green. Charlie considered with despair that the colors were the only difference between all the hallways he had passed through, beside that they all looked alike, with one door in front, one door behind, and several rows of doors on the side walls. He didn't know how many hallways he had already crossed, he stopped counting after he reached the first dozen. And he also considered that the taste in colors was just not improving the slightest. It was terribly depressing to leave a corridor just to enter another, uglier than the previous one. In all that, he couldn't even find his position on the map. Oh, yes, he was lost.

Yuk, portraits of clowns ! He just noticed them, there was a portrait between each doors, on the walls, and they were all watching him with their static, horribly stupid and somewhat gloomy smiles. Bad taste was at its summum. How could anyone like clowns, he couldn't understand. Clowns were creatures of Hell, nothing less and nothing more. He began to walk past the portraits, and it made him nervous. He felt like being watched and he had a creepy-crawly feeling on his back. He'd better find the way out quickly. The door at the end of the corridor. There was sort of a golden plate over it. He was a little too far to read it properly, but he concentrated and distinguished the word "EXIT". EXIT !

He immediately ran to it, now confident he had found the next stairway. But the door wasn't coming any closer. On the contrary, the more he ran, the more it seemed to farther away, always keeping itself out of reach. It was as if the corridor was stretching out as fast as he ran to prevent him from leaving ! Impossible ! He finally stopped, out of breath. When he looked behind him, the hallway was perfectly normal. It was as if he had never left his position. His mind was playing tricks, damn ! He didn't hold back and shouted an insanity. It was immediately answered by several sniggers.

He turned his head rapidly, surprised, in every directions. The clowns were still and lifeless, like before, in their portraits. But he had just heard them laugh ! Oh, gawd, he was really going cuckoo !

Another earthquake pulled him out of his torpor. And another. And another one. It was getting stronger every time. What Charlie found very odd was that each shock only lasted less than a second, and the rythm was very regular, like a walk. But what could walk so heavily ? Sounded like the steps of a dinosaur ! Was it another kind of monster ? Oh, no, and it was getting closer ! The boy immediately reacted and ran through the nearest door. Okay, now... wait, where was he ? Black and pink walls, desks, shelves... he was back in that damn study ! No, couldn't be. That had to be a look-alike room. He opened the second door of this room, and what he found behind was a corridor with the mention Production Chain Entrance, Level 1 painted on the wall. The corridor through which he entered the mansion. He was definitely back in the study.

Outside, he could hear a door being smashed to splinters, and the terribly heavy footsteps drawing near. The corridor to the production chain was a no-way-out, except for a narrow cornice. He had to find another escape. Without really thinking, he did the first thing that came through his mind and dove under the sofa.

The door of the study opened, and the heavy pursuer came in. It slowly walked to the center of the room and turned and turned around, as if it was thinking. Charlie held his breath. He couldn't get spotted, or he wouldn't stand a chance. From where he was, he could only see the feet of the monster: two trainers, teenager shoes. With blue jeans. He had already seen those shoes before, but where ?

The giant came close to the sofa and Charlie hardly held back a gasp. The giant stopped. There was a long and anguishing thirty seconds during which the young boy's heart stop beating, positive as he was that he was found. But the giant seemed to notice nothing and simply left the study, closing the room. The boy remained in his hideout for a while. Not for safety, but simply because he was too afraid to dare a single move. When he finally decided to go out, he stood up, opened the door... and arrived not in the corridor with the clown faces, but at one end of a brand new, unexplored gallery. The main feature of this new place was that he was basically walking on the ceiling, and all the doors, except the one he came from and the one at the other end, were at the floor level, which meant over his head. This hallway was turned upside down. Stop asking yourself questions, he told himself for comfort, you're only making it worse... the giant in trainers was nowhere in sight, that was already a good thing. Without losing any more time, he ran to the opposite door and passed it. The new corridor was in the right position, at least, but he didn't quite recognize it. Maybe it was the first time he took it, or maybe he had already taken it before - he had not memorized all the different colors, and that was the only way to differentiate the places - but there was only one thing sure, he was lost.

----------

"It's getting darker," Violet commented.

"Yes," replied James, who noticed it for the first time. The lower they progressed, the less light there was.

They finally reached the bottom of the ladder, exhausted. The descent was done without a problem, they didn't encounter any danger, but it was just terribly long. They were almost there, keep it up ! They didn't even know how they could finish the mission, tired as they were. In the movies, the hero, no matter how tired he is, always finds enough strength to beat the bad guy. They just hoped it could apply to them !

They followed their new bridge. Violet was really growing tired of bridges. When they were out, and the journalists would interview her, when they asked her what she feared the most, she wouldn't answer the juicing machine, neither the zombies nor the carnivore plants. She would answer: the bridges and the ladders.

"Look !" James called as he pointed out at a wall. She saw written: Basement 10. She smiled foolishly in relief.

"We're arrived ! Just two basements left !"

"We've never been so close to the end..."

They continued their way and passed in front of a large circular frame, like a disc, held vertically face to the bridge. In the relative darkness, they couldn't see it well, but couldn't help but stop to watch it, out of curiosity.

"What's that supposed to be ?" James asked.

"You know what it makes me think of ? It looks like a..."

At this precise moment, the lights all came back and literally flooded the surroundings, making the children blink of surprise. Now, they could see the disc clearly, it was white with several rows of red borders, with a large yellow dot in the middle. Whoops, Snake felt very uneasy when he realized they were standing precisely before the yellow dot.

"Violet, tell me it's not what I think it is..."

They slowly turned round. Oompa Loompas. There were other, surviving Oompa Loompas, and they were here, sitting at the commands of a serie of tiny artillery cannons, installed on several platforms at different levels. And the disc they were in front of wasn't the only one, there were lots of other targets fastened on scaffolds everywhere around them. Yes, targets. For that place was a shooting range. And all the cannons were aiming at them, without showing any sign of aggressivity, for now. The kids stood still.

"Looks like we're a perfect target," Violet whispered. "No pun intended..."

"Yeah... brace yourself, they're gonna shoot within seconds. When I say go, you lie down as fast as you can."

Then, the mercenary focused. He focused on what his instinct could perceive that a normal human could not. The heartbeats of the Oompa Loompas, the slight shaking of their tiny hands, tensed and focused. Even the smell of their sweat. He focused, and time seemed to go slower to him. He heard a tiny finger pushing a tiny button.

"Go !"

His calculation was perfect, the pyrotechnic missile passed over their heads without problem and ended its run on the target. However, what he didn't calculate well was the power of the explosion, when it hit the target and spread its beautiful - at least, that needs to be recognized, it was beautiful - plumes of red flames all over the bridge. There was a blinding flash of light accompanied with hot ashes that burned Violet's eyebrows, a deafening noise, and as they were disoriented, Snake slowly, but surely, tripped and fell off the bridge. The girl ran as fast as she could to help him, but she had that nasty feeling she was moving desperately slowly, no matter how hard she pushed herself. She reached out as he was already out of range, falling freely into space, but in a reflex he took out his whip and lashed at her arm. The tip of the leather tail opened a wound in her forearm, and the pain was excruciating, but she bit her lips and forced herself to grab the whip and keep it held tight. His life was hung at the end of her arm, now !

Another explosive candy - for that's what these were - hit in the air very close to Snake, and though it didn't touch him, the shock, under Violet's terrified and helpless look, made him lose hold, leaving the girl alone with his whip.

Jaaaaaaaaames !!

He heard her cry as he was falling, for real this time, with nothing to hold on. He was oddly calm, though, as his speed was increasing. He saw the ground coming at him, as if to embrace him, but he was not afraid. Snakes are not afraid of death. Above him, laser shots and cannons, a furious battle was on its way. He hoped Violet would make it out alive. He forced his eyes to stay open. Impact in 3... 2... 1...

A part of the floor suddenly opened just before him, and when he fell, he was surprise to have landed smoothly... underwater ! It took him a while for his sight to get accustomed. He was now swimming, quietly, under a fresh and clear, drinkable water. Looking around, he saw his pool was closed between curved steel walls, and concluded what saved his life was actually a water supply tank. Great, he just had to get out by the trap he fell in. He looked up. The tank was full to maximum capacity and there was not even a tiny space of fresh air left. He swimmed up to the square frame on top, he guessed was the trap. It had closed behind him. He reached out and began to manipulate it, searching for the handle. Uh-oh... there was no handle. He pushed it with all his strength. It wasn't moving.

Oh, shit.

It was locked and sealed, and he had no apparent way to open it from the inside. This time he grew anxious. As a half-reptile, he could breathe underwater longer than a normal person, but that didn't mean infinitely. If Violet didn't come or if he didn't open it by himself soon, he would die by drowning. Violet had to be okay. He hoped so. Even if, technically speaking, she was alone against all those cannons and therefore had one chance out of a hundred to make it. But she was an exceptional girl. That was the only hope he had.

----------

Another door led to another different hallway, where the boy took the first door he saw, that led him to another hallway, always different. Charlie began to despair, and he even began to lose the notion of time. He couldn't tell how long he'd been roaming in this endless labyrinth since he left the study, and it seemed that he was going in a loop, for he recognized every new corridor he entered as a corridor he had passed through before. Once, some of his schoolmates told him about a horror movie where people are locked in a huge labyrinth composed of look-alike square rooms that kept changing positions, so that it was impossible to find the exit. Well, that's exactly how he felt like now. God, was that his hair growing that he felt on his head ?

He arrived in a new corridor. Wait, this one he remembered very clearly: the yellow and blue corridor he had used to reach the stairwell. He also recognized the tiny square of light at the end. He put his hand on the handle of the first door he met, but pushed by a strange intuition, he changed his mind at the last second and opened the next door. The new, blue hallway was completely distorted, it was flipped aside, with the normal floor on his left and the normal ceiling on his right. The actual floor was made of a row of doors with portraits of clowns between each. Just like the other corridor that was flipped upside down, only the door he came from and the door at the other end were normal positioned. Wait, those ugly portraits of clowns... that was... he looked at the door at the other end and recognized the golden plate. EXIT !

He ran straight into it, and this time there was no stretching or distortion of any kind. The door was getting closer and closer. Half-way through, the sounds of heavy footsteps occurred again and made the room tremble. The giant was coming back, for it seemed. He had to hurry ! He arrived at the door, opened it in a rush... and froze. He was now facing the nasty, predatory smile of one of his "old friends", a wall-crawling zombie. Exactly when it was not needed !

"Uh, hey, guy !" the young boy hesitated. "You... you made all the way up here, that's quite a performance... err... good job, really, very good..."

The monster didn't look very receptive. One the exact contrary, it attacked. With a yell like a little girl, Charlie jumped back and ran back in the reversed corridor, running on doors, with this time two monsters after him, one tailing him tight and the other that would very soon appear in front, destroying everything on his path like a juggernaut. That was game over. Wait ! The doors ! In his hurry, he knelt before a floor door and opened it. The monster was falling straight on him ! He jumped into space and crashed rather heavily on the floor of the new room. The door shut behind him, and the boy heard the monster hit the thick wooden panel. He found the noise quite satisfying. The moment after, he heard very clearly the giant burst in with a loud crack of smashed wood. A great party of violent mimi-earthquakes ensued, accompanied with the most inhuman cries - deep roars for the giant and reptilian shrieks for the wall-crawler - he had ever heard. He couldn't do anything but huddle on the floor and wait for the end of the... wrestling match, that was taking place in the hallway. After a while, he heard the zombie die in a last heart-tearing hiss, and the footsteps of the juggernaut were going away. It was over. Both the monsters were gone.

He stood up hesitantly, still in shock. Giving a look at the new room, he saw it was normal: the door was not on the ceiling but on the wall, the floor he stood on was in a normal position, everything was okay. It was as if in this mansion, the laws of physics kept changing along with the colors. This room was square, of average size, and painted white, without any extravagant and distasteful decoration, for a change, and Charlie concluded it was safe. It was actually a warm, luxury tea-room, featuring a large white table supporting a complete China service. The delicate smell of hot tea came to his nose. He went to examine the teapots and saw there was some beverage remaining in. He poured it in a cup and, after a moment of hesitation, concluded it was harmless since Wonka must've used it himself, and drank it. It felt so good ! The hot liquid going down his throat sent jolts of energy in his body and had him rejuvenated ! A pale light passed through the window and brightened his face. The window... only know did he notice it, a high window facing him, at the other side of the table. He couldn't believe it. He approached it. As he guessed, it was night already, and no light was coming from outside except for this pale white light that passed and went away, then passed again, like a searchlight.

He opened the window. The cold, fresh air of the outside caressed his cheeks and played with his hair. He thought he would never feel the outside air again. He could barely see anything below, for the courtyard was plunged in the darkness, but there was an important agitation near the front gates and on the streets around. Police cars, ambulances, soldier-like people, tents, searchlights patrolling the surroundings, and even a massive vehicle, an armored car that looked a bit like a tank without guns, parked where the gates were supposed to stand, before they got destroyed. Incredible, he was out ! Well, not exactly, but he could communicate with the outside ! Would they hear him ? He didn't know... didn't the soldier mention they had a device to hear from far away, when they were in the entrance gallery ? The searchlight passed in front of him and brightened his face again. Only, this time, it didn't go away. Charlie blinked and put a hand in front of him to protect from the light, and he could distinguish, below, a number of people talking, looking suddenly very nervous. One of these people was his mother. Then, a soldier turned his head and, though he was too far to be seen clearly, seemed to look directly at the boy, pointing at him with a loudspeaker. The voice that came to the boy's ears was loud and manly:

"Charlie Bucket ? Speak normally, boy, we can hear you !"

"Okay," he replied hesitantly.

"Are you Charlie Bucket ?"

"Yes, sir."

Then, his mother took the speaker and spoke.

"Charlie ? Can you hear me ?"

"Mom !" last time he heard her voice, it was from the mouth of a cannibalistic living-dead. This one was the real, and there is no word to describe the relief he felt.

"How do you feel, my boy ?"

"I wanna go home, Mom !"

"Sure, and you will. But the police needs your help. You have to tell us what is going on inside and what they must do to come and save you and all your friends. Can you do that ?"

"No..."

She sounded surprised. "Excuse me ?"

"No. There's... nothing. Nothing you can do, I'm sorry. We know the place, and you don't. If you come, you'll only get killed. We have to save Veruca by our own, and then, we'll come out, I promise, Mom."

Another woman he didn't know suddenly appeared beside his mother and snatched the speaker from her. She sounded not only worried, but almost hysteric.

"You, up there ! You said Veruca. Where is she ? What happened to my daughter ?"

As he was about to answer, a loud crack behind him made him turn round with a start to face the threat. His eyes grew wide. The door had just been smashed to splinters, letting in the heavy giant in trainers. He knew he had already seen these shoes, for now he also recognized the white and red striped shirt and the red hair, even if the rabid mountain of muscles in front of him had virtually nothing left of his original model.

"Augustus ?"

Without an answer, the monstrous boy raised his fist and rushed to his defenseless prey with a roar. Oddly, to Charlie, this scene looked very familiar. Augustus looked and behaved like a much larger version of the bullies and brutes he had to bear with at school and in the streets, every day of his life. He knew exactly how they acted. He knew what was coming. He shut his eyes, and waited for his hiding.

----------

Veruca was slowly getting sensations back in her numb limbs. The pain and the intense feeling of pressure on her lungs had faded, and after a serie of helpless coughs, she could breathe rather normally again. She didn't know if it was because of the shock or anything - she wasn't a doctor, after all - but her nose was bleeding. Didn't look so serious, though. Wonka had kept the hellish electric barbecue off for a while, probably because he didn't want her to faint now, and she decided to take a maximum advantage of this allowed resting time to relax a maximum. Wonka was not taking care of her for the moment, busy he was sharpening a scalpel with his blowtorch, and Mr Wilkinson was in a conversation with an Oompa Loompa. She thought those creatures were all dead. It seemed not. The surgeon smiled and turned to his boss:

"Good news ! We got rid of Snake !"

When she heard that, Veruca felt like a frozen hand squeezing her heart. Her protector. Her savior. Dead. No, this wasn't true. She was sure they had staged this. Another kind of torture. The surgeon gave details:

"He and Violet Beauregard were taken by surprise in the shooting range. Snake was hit and taken down."

"And Violet ?"

"As of now, she's still fighting. She is very determined, and the important flexibility she was granted by the juicing is being her main advantage. They can't hit her."

"Good. Keep it going, but do not damage her more than necessary. What about Charlie ?"

"We can't find him anywhere, sir."

The evil chocolatier then turned to his captive:

"Looks like things are not going well for you... Augustus is in my control, Mike is struggling in his computer, Snake was taken down, Charlie has disappeared... the only one still up is Violet, and what can she do alone ?"

He sneered unpleasantly. That was his true face, Veruca thought, the shy quirky guy reading his welcome speech from cue cards was just a smoke screen. The Bogeyman had deceived the kids well.

"Why do you hate children so much, Mr Wonka ? What did they do to you, for you to be so cruel to them ?"

He grew somber, and when he spoke, his voice was different, emotionless, almost mechanic.

"I hate them," he said. "That's understandable. All are little rats, unable to think by their own, unable to stay calm more than two seconds, always putting their greedy little hands on everything and sticking their tongue at the respectable adults. Worse, you try to scold them, and they hide behind Mommy, screaming against the nasty man, and suddenly, this little vermin becomes untouchable ! How in the world could one respect and love such despicable creatures ?"

"What, that's all ? But, it's ridiculous, I mean, it's just the way we are... it's innocence !"

"Innocence ! You said it. Your reaction is the perfect example of what I mean. All their misbehaviors are excused for the sake of innocence. Just because they're cute doesn't mean they're harmless. Cats are predators. The adults just fail to see the reality that lurks behind their children's cuteness... that their so-called innocence hides the most dreadful extremisms, the most hateful tyranny, the wildest savagery..."

"But you used to be one of them !"

"Yes, indeed ! And that's why I know what I'm talking about. I saw their cruelty with my own eyes when I was one of them. Contrary to the other adults, I saw the darkness in them, and never forgot. Wirehead. Wirehead..."

He kept repeating that strange word, wirehead, as he turned his gaze at her, and she saw something she never thought possible... tears in his eyes.

"Wirehead !" he yelled, before he calmed down and sat gently on the metal bed, beside her. He did his best to avoid her glance. Veruca couldn't help, she pitied him. The man who terrorized and tortured her, she pitied him. He looked so sad, so fragile, so...

"I wore a headgear," he spat out. "An idea of my father. For my teeth, you know. A complete headgear. I couldn't eat any candy, because it could damage it. On Halloween, when I went trick-or-treating, I was forbidden to eat what I was given. The other kids, at school, in the neighborhood, called me Wirehead. Luke, Gerald, Gus, all the clique. They put my head in the toilet bowl to see if I could rust. Rosemary... she was the only girl who was actually kind with me. Halloween night, I was eleven. I trick-or-treated with Rosemary, it was magic. For the first, and only time in my life, I was genuinely happy..."

He paused, and took a long breath.

"I had an argument with my father, this same night. For I had eaten a piece of chocolate, and I had enjoyed it, like the most marvelous thing that could exist in a man's life. My father was furious. Our argument changed our lives forever. In a matter of seconds, our lives... were... shattered."

While talking, he held a hand in front of her. He had removed the latex glove, and she saw the bare skin, white as ivory, a hand that almost never saw the sunlight, and covered with several nasty brown stains. Dried-up blood, she thought.

"His blood," he confirmed as if he had read in her mind, "never wore off my hands. My curse."

He paused to put his glove back on, and continued:

"My father hated children. Just like you, I didn't understand why. I thought he was injust, and evil. But in my life, I travelled a lot. I met a lot of people. I saw what nasty children grow up to become. I saw the ugliness and evil in my fellow human beings. I learned that the people who are truly worth living with on this planet were the lowest minority. And I understood my father at this moment. Everyday of my life, I regret what I did to him. I love him, he's my father after all. So I vowed to live according to his principles. I set up my plan. It took me years of sweat and blood to reach this point. The Chocolate Factory, the Wonka Corporation... and Wirehead Project."

"Wirehead Project ?"

"The final stage of my plan. The one I am about to reach, thanks to you. When it is complete, I will have complete power. All the nasty, the stupid children of the world will suffer. Only the nice, the intelligent, the kind and considerate will be worthy to survive. I know that through your eyes, Veruca Salt, I look like a comic-book villain, crazy with a scheme of world domination. It is not that at all. It is a large-scale punishment against all the evil of the world attacked at its source - the children. It is the reason that kept me alive every day of my own childhood, my only motivation. My vendetta."

She was speechless. And worse, she herself felt tears rolling on her cheeks. No wonder why he had become such a monster. His whole life must've been a tragedy. How could something so trivial as... bullying, could go that far ? Wait, wasn't the Snake like that too, according to the stories she heard ? That he began by taking revenge on his bullies, and then went wrong until he became a serial killer ? Both were so ressembling... both were born out of a lousy childhood, made of domination, rejection and violence. Something that didn't look serious to adults, but to the kids took more and more importance until it reached breaking point. Snake had found a way to save himself and stay on a relatively right side, with his job. He just does the job and doesn't care about the rest. Willy Wonka was different. He had never been able to be in peace with himself and the world. Now he was taking revenge on it. But was his case so exceptional ? How many children had Veruca hurt in her life of snobbish bitch ? How many Wonkas-in-the-making had been ridiculed, belittled, taunted and humiliated by all the Veruca Salts, the Violet Beauregards, the Mike Teavees in the world ? All of this was her fault too. She was - and her friends were too - paying for their own sins. Their tormentor was merely the image of what their irresponsible actions could produce indirectly.

"I... I..." she began weakly, pathetically. "I so didn't know that... I'm terribly sorry..."

"I have no need for your pitiful excuses ! It's too late for that. Way too late. Now, you have to pay."

He abruptly stood up, back to his creepy and determined self, and walked to the console. Oh, no ! He would start the barbecue again !

"No !" she begged. "Please, don't ! Please ! I'll do anything ! Anything ! Just ask !"

"Really ? Can you give me back what others like you took away from me ? I don't think so. Fry, baby !"

He raised his hand over the dreaded red button, but he stopped as Wilkinson discreetly appeared behind him and whispered something in his ear.

"Thanks," the chocolatier said, looking a little disappointed. "Seems like Violet found an escape. These children will never cease to amaze me. Anyway, she will be caught sooner or later. Shall we..."

His finger danced in the air over the button.

"No !" she shrieked, already anticipating the shock with anguish. "Have mercy ! Mercy !"

"Mercy ? In French, Merci means Thanks..."

And with his ironic smile, he pushed the button.

----------

Now, James began to realize how cold the water really was. Not a good sign at all. When he began to be bothered by the cold, it meant he was really getting weak. Good thing, though, that he couldn't panick, it allowed clear thought on how to get out. But the problem was here: there was no way out, except the hatch he came from, and it was sealed from the outside. How was it possible ? Did someone intentionally seal it behind him ? Seemed like the only explanation. He hit it and pushed on it with all his might, but it didn't move for even an inch. And his efforts were getting weaker. His head was now going numb, with shadows dancing before his eyes. His burning chest was having violent spasms, desperately craving for air. He was drowning. Violet must be dead already.

Bump !

The noise came from above. Here, he was thinking Violet was dead, now it was her body that just fell down. Welcome Violet ! Welcome to the land of losers !

The trap opened suddenly over his head and an arm passed around his shoulders and pulled him up. He emerged from the water gasping helplessly as he was getting air back in his lungs, and slid weakly on the curved surface of the tank to fall on a concrete floor. Thank God, no more bridges ! He took some time to gather his wits and got up. It was Violet who pulled him out. She was exhausted and bore several bleeding wounds, but overall, she looked fine. She had no more gun, and his whip was winded askew around her chest.

"Violet ! Glad to see you ! Looks like our roles are reversed, this time."

"I owed you that. You okay ?"

"I almost drowned, but that's gonna be okay."

"By the way, you may want that back..." she handed him the whip, which he tied back on his belt.

"How did you escape the artillery ?"

"That was not an easy job, I can tell you that. That was furious. I almost got hit several times, I got hurt, I lost the rifle, but I made it out by learning to swing with your whip, just like you used to do, and..."

She showed him her hands. The palms were badly scorched. "I escaped by sliding down an elevator cable. With no gloves. Believe me, that's painful."

He sighed. "Thank you, Violet. And I mean it."

"Stop that, you'll make me blush," she joked. "I owed you that, don't forget. And... friends forever, right ?"

"Yeah, friends forever."

Around them, there was no empty space, no bridge and no ladder going down. All of this was over their heads, far above. Here, on this concrete floor, they were at the very bottom of the communication passage, they were in Basement 12. This basement was composed almost only of rows of large half-cylindrical steel tank, rows of dozens, occupying all the space. Of course, he remembered. This basement was used to store all the water supply.

"Are we arrived ?" the girl asked.

"Yes. I think we are. There must be a secret passage, a hatch or something..."

"There !"

She ran to an area at the bottom of the elevator pit. A large square of metal. A hatch, no doubt, and it was as wide as the elevator cage. Of course, this was where the elevator would come in and out of the secret basement. But from their place, they found no lever, no command, no way to open it.

"Mike could open it ?" Snake asked.

"Don't think so. Up there, while I was fighting with the artillery, I asked him for help several times, but he's dead silent. That's creepy."

"Must be just having problems getting the programs all back. Computers are damn complex machines, I always hated those."

She smiled. "I sure hope so... I hope he's okay..."

They searched elsewhere. The noise of all the machines was quieter here, for everything was taking place over their heads. There was no Oompa Loompa at their level, and no FlyBot. It seemed so oddly peaceful, here in this basement. They eventually found a narrow stairway that went up to Basement 11. Useless. But there was nothing to go down.

Snake suddenly stood stiff, struck by a serie of images that passed before his eyes. Snakes. Visions. There were snakes close, he felt them. Very close. Below. On his left.

"This way," he told Violet, and the two kids followed a row of tanks until they found what they were looking for. At the end of the area, between the last tank and the wall, there was a very narrow passage, a staircase of steel almost impossible to distinguish from ten meters further, so narrow and discreet it was. It went down in the darkness, way lower than the tanks' level, and ended in a rust-colored iron door they could hardly see from here. They gave a hesitant look at each others. Was this the way they were searching for ? Maybe. The only way to know was to go down, which they did. After the long descent, the found themselves facing the dark door. It looked sinister and abandoned, like the door to the boiler room in an old school. It had no indication other than a small black print. It was written: B-13.