As Miranda and I make our way through the factory, I begin to worry that the others have gotten captured again or something. With what I've experienced today, I wouldn't put it past Wonka to hold them captive to make me comply. Speaking of him, it's still unbelievable that this is a man I used to look up to, that this is a man I wanted to be like. But now that I've seen his true colors, he's the last person on earth I want to associate with. Okay, maybe second-to-last. My mother's pretty far down that list. Unfortunately with what I read in that cocoa cave, we might just be closer than I care to think. And it leaves me with one burning question; who am I really?

"Where would a conceited boy like him end up in this place?" Miranda asks.

I shrug.

"When did you last see him?"

"I didn't, not since the cell this morning."

"Did you speak to him at all?"

"Very little. He was busy looking at his reflection in the little piece of mirror he found."

This intrigues me.

"What did he say?"

"He said he was lured by some hair clips or something."

"Was there anyone else?"

She shakes her head and then stops.

"Oh! Wait! There were a few more…but they came in later."

"Who?"

She gives this some thought.

"Um….there were two boys who those pesky workers had trouble getting inside their cells; I believe their names were….Wilbur Rice and Tommy Troutbeck. And then there were three more who tried to climb the bars on their cells…..um…..I believe their names were….Clarence Clump, Bertie Upside, and Terence Roper. Foolish delinquents, they nearly broke their necks—"

Suddenly she's cut off by the sound of screaming coming from the room we're on the outside of. We look up and see the name of it on the door.

"The Plucking and Sorting Room…." I read, my face losing color. "I don't like the sound of that….."

"Neither do I," Miranda gulps.

Peeking up through the window, I see something that nearly makes me sick; a boy with blond hair is strapped down onto a sort-of dentist patient's chair; his skin is covered in strange brown boils with two claws grabbing onto them and yanking them off, prompting the screaming. On his face and legs, which are extremely pale, are streams of scarlet liquid.

"Oh my….oh Gosh…" I stammer. I've never been so disgusted in my life. Nonetheless I brace myself and open the door.

"Someone help!" he screams as Miranda and I sneak in and shut the door before barricading it with a wheelbarrow nearby.

"That's Marvin!" Miranda exclaims.

The boy who Miranda had called Marvin looked up.

"Honey, you need–ah!-to help me!" he gasps.

"What happened?" I ask urgently.

"I dunno," he stammers, speaking through screams. "We were–ah!-having lunch and I–ah!-followed these cute fairies and then–oh!-they started to spray with something–ah! A bunch of these–crap!-prunes grew on me and I got brought–-ow!-here. They pulled the one off of my tongue alright–ah!, but then they–crap!-just turned this weird machine–ow!-on and left me here–ah!"

"And the bleeding?"

"The claws, they've also–crap!-been yanking at my skin–ah!-You've gotta get me–ow!–t of here!"

Immediately we go into action. While Miranda looks for a way to undo the restraints, I begin to search around for something to stop the machine. Soon I spy a control panel near a box of prunes. Like in the Spotty Powder room, maintenance seems to be a lower priority, as the power box siding is bent open. I look between the prunes and the box and my hands begin to move on their own, throwing the prunes inside of the box. I break some open in order to gum up the wires as well.

"Who even likes prunes?" I wonder. "They're only good if you're clogged up."

Soon enough the machine slows down and then stops. Miranda checks over Marvin.

"It's not a lot of blood, but enough," she says.

Immediately I look around and soon spy some towels near a sink. Wetting and soaping up one, I grab them and give them to her. I start to go help, but then I realize what prunes can do and knowing Mr. Wonka, they're probably more potent.

"Wipe down the wounds and then apply pressure to them," I tell her. "I might have an idea for a weapon."

She does. I look around the room and soon find some jars and bags in a cabinet next to a box of gloves. They're prunes soaking in a strange liquid of some kind, perhaps coffee? I take a look at the label.

"Use for arrested gastrointestinal emergencies only."

That tells me all I need to know. I stuff the bags into the bucket before it begins to get heavy. Glancing around, I miraculously find an old messenger bag and stuff the samples and glove box inside as well as a few of the bags, keeping the rest in the bucket. Afterwards I go back over to Marvin and Miranda and decide to remove the remaining prunes. There aren't too many left. Cautiously I pinch the end, twist, and then pull.

Pinch, twist, pull.

Pinch, twist, pull.

Pinch, twist, pull.

Repeat until they're all off.

"Oh my God….." he huffs. "Honey, I thought I was a goner. My name's Marvin Prune. I know Miss Piker there, but I dunno you. I never saw you in a cell."

"I never got put in one," I sigh. "I'm Matilda Prescott, and I'm here for something worse."

I update him on the situation and I can see the muscles tense.

"Oh honey, that's bad. So how are you gonna destroy the place?"

"That's the problem," I sigh again. "I don't know."

"Maybe there's a reactor core of sorts?" Miranda suggests. "If we destroy that, that could destroy the factory."

"If it is, it'd be way deep belo–" I begin.

SLAM!

I jump as the door flies open. Whirling around I see four oompa loompas armed with candy weapons.

"There she is!" one of them exclaims. "Get her!"

They charge at us, but we dodge to the side and two of them crash into the chair. I grab one of them and force their mouth open.

"Don't come any closer!" I snap as I take out the bag of prunes. Their eyes widen in fear.

"Put that down, Sweet One." One of them tries to remain calm. "You don't know what you're messing with, Sweet One."

"Let us leave then."

Opening the bag, the stench is enough to make my intestines tense up. Coffee, garlic, boiled celery, watermelon, prunes, the works. But it also weirdly smells sweet. It's both putrid and mouth-watering.

"How is that even possible?" I wonder.

"B-but that formula was redacted!" another exclaims. "It's too strong for us!"

"All the more reason to let us go," I shrug.

"B-but the master–"

I pull one prune out and hold it over the oompa-loompa's mouth. They whimper in terror.

"But the master what?" I ask innocently. "Go on. Finish that sentence. I dare you. I'm sure your friend here is starving."

"No, wait! You need to understand," one begins to justify.

I bring the prune closer to their mouth.

"Understand what? That you care more about making the world insane? That it's okay to monopolize off of child labor and murder? Choose your next words very carefully."

They stammer and then look at the others. After some consultation, they bow their heads.

"Fine, we'll let you three go. Just….just put that back please."

"Okay," I shrug. "But first stitch Marvin up. It looks like that machine did a number on him."

Timidly they grab a first-aid kit nearby and start working on him.

"And no funny business," Miranda snaps. "I'm watching you like a hawk."

Nodding quickly, they stitch the poor boy up. As promised I put the bag back and let go of the oompa-loompa I was holding hostage.

"If your 'master' asks," I tell them. "You didn't see anything, am I clear?"

"Crystal," they nod quickly.

The three of us head out only to realize that oompa-loompas are practically patrolling the halls. Encountering several close calls, we soon reach a sort-of closet, leaving a small crack open in the door to keep a lookout for anyone.

"Honey, wasn't that a little drastic?" he asks me quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Threatening to basically tear out the oompa-loompa's insides by feeding them prunes? No offense, but that sounds like Wonka levels of torture."

Hearing this my heart skips a beat.

"If you truly consider it, we're not so different, you and I."

His words bounce around in my head and it's a truly terrifying thing.

"I….I was doing it to help us escape," I say before snapping at him. "You should be thanking me, you know. You'd probably still be stuck in there if I hadn't come along."

"Excuse me, but I also helped," Miranda coughs.

"Yes, you too, but I was the one who clogged the machine."

"Well, I got him out of it."

"Honeys, no need to fight. I know I'm pretty, but we've got bigger problems."

"Right," Miranda huffs. "There's also those boys who snuck into the warming candy room."

"Where are they now?" I ask.

"Wonka sent them to a freezer or something."

"Okay, then let's go find a freezer."

We start to stand up, but Marvin puts a hand on me, making me flinch.

"I'd be careful how you handle those oompa-loompas next time," he whispers. "That really wasn't far off from sadism."

"I was trying to help us escape," I argue.

He just shrugs.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, hon. Let's go."

We start to sneak through the hallways, but we run into a lot of close calls because of me, because I can't stop wondering. Is Marvin right? Was it really that sadistic?

"But….they deserved it, right?"

I can't find an answer, and in fact, it only leaves me with another question….

"How close am I to becoming who I now fear to be?"

(A/N): I'm so glad to be getting back on this story; please leave your thoughts. Especially if you're the guy who ends their reviews with "Adventure is out there" because it's always amazing to see that. :)