Chapter 28

Reflection

Rated: T (Language)

Warnings: Language, Violence

Disclaimer: gnihton wno I.

A/N: 4.


I stepped into a hallway, and realized with a sense of relief where I was. The walls were white and shiny, the very same walls that lined many of the corridors in the factory. I heard a man scream out, eliminating that ephemeral sense of comfort.

I limped up the hallway, grimacing as my weight pressed down on my aching left leg.

I saw a door that stood slightly ajar. Harsh white light streamed in from the room, illuminating the slightly dimmer corridor.

I squeezed in, and saw a man bound to a chair. He was stout, and had a florid complexion. His hair was evidently balding, and his worn brown suit was disheveled. Next to him stood a beautiful young man, whose face wore an expression of childish delight, despite the strange coldness in his brilliant purple eyes. I limped over, standing behind him.

"Why'd you do it? I thought we were friends." He pouted.

"I didn't-" He screamed again, in agony. It took me a second to realize that Mr. Wonka was holding a little remote control in his gloved hand. It was silver, almost mirror like. I pursed my lips, sickened.

"Fine!" He cried, panting. "I- I had to feed my family! They were starving, and a man offered me money for the secret recipe! Have mercy!" He whimpered.

"You could have used the money I pay you to work here to feed your pathetic little family."

"It wasn't enough." He cried, shaking. "Most nights we could barely afford to keep food on the table."

"Is this your strange way of asking for a pay rise?" Mr. Wonka asked, raising an eyebrow and giving him a sideways glance.

"No-" He screamed again. "Let me go!" He bellowed.

"Hush, now. You know very well that I generally treat people like you kindly. You know why? Pity. Empathy. That's why I don't just turn you all away from the factory and get better workers. But when someone pushes my buttons, well…" He leaned forward so that his nose was almost touching the man's, smiling sweetly and a graceful finger pressed down on the button once again. The man shrieked. Mr. Wonka smiled pleasantly, tilting his head slightly and straightened up again, releasing the button.

"Who hired you?" He asked.

The man shook his hand, and Mr. Wonka raised the remote again threateningly.

"Fine! Fine! It was Prodnose!" He cried, shrinking away from the remote.

"Please, let me go." He gasped weakly. I saw a trickle of blood drip from his nose and travel down his lips.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Not yet, at least. Was there anyone else?" He absentmindedly twirled the little remote in his hand, and brought it up, idly examining the small device. He paused, looking intently at the reflection on the remote. I saw his purple eyes reflected in the remote, lock with mine. I froze, my stomach twisting tightly. He tilted his head, and suddenly turned around, looking at the space where I was supposed to be.

The man was about to answer, but fell into silence, looking at Mr. Wonka at bewilderment and fear.

"Well?" Mr. Wonka demanded. His voice rung out through the room.

The man jumped and stammered. "N-No. There was no one else. I swear."

Mr. Wonka's eyes flickered back to him and he lowered the remote, pressing the button. The man wailed again, writhing in agony, even with the metal restraints shackling him to the chair.

Abruptly, he turned away and strode to the door, throwing it open dramatically. He turned and the faced the man, who was again looking at him in fearful bewilderment, then his eyes flickered to something in the corner of the room. A young man I hadn't noticed before stood in the dark corner, wearing a red uniform and a hat that covered his eyes. His strawberry blonde hair was slightly long, coming down to just above his chin. He was standing straight and didn't seem fazed by the torture that had just taken place.

"Take care of him." Mr. Wonka said simply, and brought the remote up again, holding it in an odd position. I saw myself in the reflection.

He looked at the spot I was standing in, and tilted his head.

"It's nice to see you again, Alice." He said, lowering his head slightly, and turned on his heel. The door slammed shut behind him, and it was labeled '7'.


Bad Willeh D: U sit inda corner!