Title: Kylie and the Chocolate Factory

Author: Meissa6

Summary: Charlie Bucket wasn't the one who found the fifth golden ticket. Instead, it was a young girl named Kylie Trinket. Born into a family of actors and actresses, she was raised by her nannies while her parents were off starring in movies.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor will ever, own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, or any of its characters and plots.


The Trap

I had always hated the spotlight. And yes, before you say anything, I am aware of the irony.

My name is Kylie Trinket, the only child born to Andrew and Marissa Trinket. If you are among the one percent that wouldn't recognize the names, they are two of the most prestigious actors in the western world.

Being shoved into the spotlight from the moment I was born, hailed as the next child actor prodigy, and then failing to take interest in my parents' work was the thing that many gossip magazines talked ceaselessly about. My face and name were splattered all over the front covers.

Constantly. No privacy. No secrets.

And so, when I opened one of Willy Wonka's chocolate bars, the fact that I found a golden ticket quickly spread through the media.

I had attempted to hide it in my coat, but a nearby paparazzi had seen it before I could. My parents were thrilled, of course, thinking that this was my claim to fame. The problem was: both of them were contracted to their respective films and couldn't travel with me to London to the promised tour.

My nannies offered to go, but the ticket said only one extra person allowed, and my parents didn't want to cause conflict among the caretakers. Therefore, off I went on the first plane out to England, dressed in only the finest clothes, and seated in first-class.

Alone.

A limousine picked me up from the airport and drove me to the very fancy hotel the other four golden-ticket winners were staying at. Then, there were interviews. Dozens of them.

Even across the lake, the media reporters were practically assaulting me. The envious looks the two other girl winners sent at me didn't bode well, if the "prize" at the end of the tour involved teamwork.

The blonde's mother kept going on and on about all of the awards her daughter had won, while the brunette girl rattled off the long list of trophy-pets her father had bought her. It was only after midnight that I managed to sneak up to my suite, slamming the door in the face of the reporter that had followed me up.

The next morning, another limousine took the nine of us to Willy Wonka's factory at promptly nine o'clock. There was already a huge crowd formed, but they parted like the red sea when we got out of the car.

It was a dreary, cold morning in London, but the heavy, dark coats everyone wore made me feel like we were walking to our deaths as we approached the gates.

"Enter!" A male voice called over a loudspeaker as we stopped, and the gates swung open.

The brunette girl shoved past me, apparently wanting to be the first in the gates. The blonde girl hurried after her, and then the large boy, and the scrawny boy. Finally, I walked inside, the parents crowding in behind us.

"Close the gates!" The same voice called out, and the gates closed. "Walk forward."

The nine of us approached the huge, metal doors, and I heard the faint clicking of cameras behind us. As we stood at the bottom of the steps, the doors slid apart. All of us, myself included, leaned forward expectantly, but instead of a man, there was a dozen or so mechanical puppets, like the sort at a fair.

As if a switch was flicked, they all began dancing and twirling as a far-too-cheery song played from the speakers in their smiling mouths. I glanced at the others, but they were all staring at the puppets, the same bemusement on their faces as I felt.

I looked back at the puppets just as the song came to an end, an empty throne rising from the floor behind them, and sparks and small fireworks beginning to explode around it. Something must've gone wrong, though, because the sparks caught the puppets on fire, making their plastic faces begin to melt and droop grotesquely.

The scene was so absurd, so unexpected, I couldn't help the small giggle that escaped my lips.

There was applause from my right, and I turned, looking up at a pale, sallow man with straight, chin-length, brown hair. He wore a long, purple coat, and ridiculously large glasses with lenses that looked like small spheres.

"That was wonderful, wasn't it?" He said cheerfully, removing his glasses.

His eyes were dark, emotionless, despite the grin on his face.

Nobody else seemed inclined to answer, so I said, "It was quite a dark twist."

His eyes met mine, and something passed through them that I couldn't identify before he looked away, moving to the top of the steps.

"Who are you?" The blonde girl asked, smacking her gum.

"Why, I'm Willy Wonka, of course!" The man said brightly, glancing over all of us.

The brunette girl snorted.

"Then, shouldn't you be up there?" She asked snottily, pointing up to the throne that was currently on fire.

Wonka seemed annoyed by her question.

"I couldn't very well watch the show from up there, little girl." He replied frostily, and then spun on his heel. "Come along, then. Lots to see, today!"

Again, the brunette girl shoved her way to the front of the line. This time, however, the large boy and his even larger mother were behind me.

"Don't you want to know our names?" The large boy asked when the doors clanged closed behind us.

Wonka didn't respond for a moment, and I assumed he didn't hear the boy.

"I couldn't see what it would matter." He finally said when we stepped through another set of doors into a large, empty parlor.

There was a red carpet that stretched from the doors we'd just come through to the end of the hall, and a row of railings on either side of the carpet.

"Throw your coats anywhere." Wonka said, and took off his own purple coat, tossing it to the side with his strange glasses on top.

He left his purple gloves on.

"Bit toasty in here, isn't it, Mr. Wonka?" The brunette girl's father complained as he hung his and his daughter's coats on one of the railings.

I carelessly threw mine over another, not bothering to pick it up when it slid right off.

"Oh yes, I have to keep it very warm in here for the workers. They don't like cold climates." Wonka said, turning to face us again.

"Who're the workers?" The small boy asked, lifting his eyebrows like he didn't believe Wonka… which was strange, since why would Wonka lie about something like that?

"All in good time." Wonka replied, turning, and starting off again.

I wondered if him walking off in the middle of conversations had anything to do with the fact that he'd been holed up in this factory for years.

As we followed him down the corridor, the blonde girl suddenly reached out, wrapping her arms tightly around Wonka's waist. He stopped instantly, pulling away from her. The girl didn't seem to notice, or care.

"I'm Violet Beauregard." She said, smacking her gum again.

He grimaced, continuing to walk.

"I… don't care."

He sighed, but she continued, "Well, you should care, because I'm the girl that's gonna win the special prize at the end!"

"Well, you do seem confident, and confidence is key."

His voice was reluctant, but Violet beamed, looking back at her mother, who nodded in approval. Not to be outdone, the brunette girl stepped in Wonka's path, curtseying in the poshest way I have ever seen.

"I'm Veruca Salt. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." She said, smiling innocently up at him.

It seemed like she was able to pull off the angelic look perfectly, if one hadn't seen the bratty way she'd acted when I was receiving more attention than her. I wondered if Wonka would be charmed by her, like the paparazzi had been.

"I'd always thought a verruca was a wart you got on the bottom of your foot."

I stifled a laugh as Veruca's face fell. It seemed that the chocolatier was not fooled by her act. The large boy stepped in front of her, once again blocking Wonka from walking.

"I'm Augustus Gloop. I love your chocolate."

I expected the snide remark from Wonka, and was not disappointed when he said, "So do I. I never expected to have so much in common."

Augustus didn't seem too bothered by the distaste in Wonka's voice. Wonka started to walk again, paused, and turned to the rest of us.

"You. You're Mike Teavee. You're the one who cheated the system."

The small boy said nothing, and Wonka turned to me, his eyes staring into mine.

"And you. Everyone already knows who you are, don't they?"

It was fairly tame, considering the insults he had leveled at the other kids, but I still felt my face heat with shame. His lips curled just slightly, and he looked away to the parents.

"And you must be their… parents." He said the word with such venom that both of the fathers glanced at each other.

"Yes, sir." Mr. Salt said, and Wonka turned on his heel without another word.

"Is it just me, or does Wonka seem a few quarters short of a buck?" Mr. Teavee asked as we followed him.

Mr. Salt scoffed.

"Sorry, I don't speak American."

If Wonka heard them, which he probably did, he didn't react.

When we finally made it to the end of the impossibly long corridor, the adults all had to crouch a bit to avoid hitting their head on the ceiling.

"Now, this is a very important room. This is where all the chocolate mixing happens." Wonka said, looking around at us.

"Then why is the door so small?" Mike demanded.

Wonka's smile was very patronizing.

"To keep all the big chocolatey flavor inside." He replied, a hint of mockery in his voice.

He leaned down to the mouse-sized door, unlocking it with a twist of his wrist. A sudden thought of how we were going to fit through it ran through my mind, but when Wonka pushed against the wall, the entire wall split in two, pushing open like a pair of double doors. The others hurried inside, gawking at the giant ecosystem inside the room.

There were trees, and bushes, and a meadow, and, most impressively, a giant waterfall that looked to be made out of chocolate. I stared in shock; my mind completely blanked. How anyone, even Willy Wonka, could create this, was staggering.

It was mind-blowing. Nobody would believe me even if I did have a camera with me. They'd all say the photos were forged somehow.

I heard Wonka laugh softly, his gloved hand touching the middle of my back and gently pushing me through the doorway. His hand caused strange tingles to spread through my body like fire, but by the time my mind caught up to the fact that he had touched me, he was already at the front of the group.

I hurried after them, trying my best to pick up my jaw from the floor as I did.

"Now, the waterfall is most important." Wonka was saying when I finally caught up. "It mixes the chocolate, churns it up. It makes it light and frothy. And by the way, no other factory in the world mixes its chocolate by waterfall. You can take that to the bank!"

There was a smug gleam in his eyes as he glanced back at me, but if it was from the excitement of owning his own chocolate waterfall, or something else, I didn't know. We moved on to the meadow.

"And here is my meadow. Please, try a blade, please do. It's so delectable and so darn good-looking." He waved his gloved hands over the grass.

"The grass is edible?" Violet asked, sounding surprised.

Wonka laughed, but it was far from the quiet one he'd given me at the door… more fake, like he'd rehearsed in the mirror time and time again until he'd gotten it right.

"Oh yes, dear children. In fact, everything in this room is edible! Even I am edible, though that is called cannibalism, and is frowned upon in many civilizations." He waved his arms around. "Enjoy. Go on."

At his encouragement, the others scattered throughout the room. I followed them, intrigued by the ecosystem made entirely of candy.

I passed Mike and his father, who was berating his son for destroying what looked like candy pumpkins. Mrs. Gloop was shoving chocolate pastries in her purse, but her son was mysteriously missing. Mrs. Beauregard was stuffing what looked like cherries in her mouth, and she smiled at me when I passed her, revealing her stained teeth.

Her daughter plucked an apple from a nearby tree, giving me a nasty glare. As she bit into it, her expression turned to one of interest as she ignored me completely.

"How come your parents didn't come with you?" Mr. Salt suddenly said, and I turned.

He stood nearby a tree, looking at me with a strange concern in his eyes.

"They were busy." I said defensively, and his frown deepened.

"Be careful – around Wonka, I mean. Something about him makes me suspicious, and you being a young girl on your own… well, he could take advantage of that."

His eyes moved to where his own daughter stood at the edge of the river, licking a lollipop. I had a feeling he wasn't going to drop it until I agreed, so I slowly nodded my head.

He didn't look at all comforted by this, but then Veruca cried, "Daddy, look! It's a little person!"

We walked towards her, and the others came round from the other side, though Augustus was still missing. Sure enough, a small man stood on a ladder, knocking down what looked like giant gumdrops. Three or four stood around the tree, gathering the gumdrops with makeshift vacuums.

"There's two of them." Mrs. Beauregard said, amazed.

"More than two. What are they?" Mr. Teavee asked, placing his hand on Mike's shoulder.

"Are they real people?" Mike asked, doubt in his voice.

Wonka rolled his eyes.

"Of course, they're real people!" He exclaimed. "They're called Oompa Loompas, imported directly from Loompaland."

Mr. Teavee instantly tried to debunk Wonka, who responded with a tale that mapped out his discovery of the Oompa Loompas.

Apparently, he'd gone to Loompaland looking for exotic flavors for new candy, and instead had discovered an entire tribe of these miniature people obsessed with cocoa beans. They were willing to work for the opportunity to live off of cocoa beans, which I thought was very lucky and convenient that Wonka found them.

"No! Augustus, that is a very bad thing you do!" Mrs. Gloop suddenly shrieked, startling all of us into following her horrified stare.

Her missing son was leaning down into the lake, scooping up chocolate with his hands.

"Little boy, my chocolate must be untouched by human hands!" Wonka called loudly, and Augustus suddenly lost his grip on the grass he was holding to keep himself upright, falling directly into the chocolate.

He instantly began to thrash about, Mrs. Gloop's scream confirming his inability to swim.

"Save him! Save him!" She cried, grabbing Wonka's arm, and was immediately brushed off.

The previously impassive Oompa Loompas began to hum, and like it was called by them, one of the overhead machines began to move, settling directly over where Augustus was thrashing. The large pipe descended, causing a whirlpool of chocolate as it was sucked up into the machine. Augustus swirled around it for a few tense moments before he was sucked up, becoming stuck about halfway up the pipe.

I stared at the squirming boy as the adults commented seemingly uncaringly behind me about the size of the pipe. It was like they all couldn't care less about him… except his panicking mother, of course. The song the Oompa Loompas began to sing was chilling, foretelling Augustus' impending doom in the form of Augustus flavored fudge.

I looked up at Wonka, whose smile was cold as he bobbed his head along to the song. His eyes dropped to mine like he could feel me watching him, and I saw the same emotion flash through his eyes that had after I'd commented on his puppets' demise. It wasn't mean, but it was filled with an intensity that made me unconsciously shiver.

"No!" Mrs. Gloop cried as the pressure in the pipe managed to force Augustus through.

I looked away from Wonka's eyes, watching as Augustus' panicked face slowly disappeared as chocolate filled the machine. I suspected all of it was going to be thrown out.

"Where does that pipe go? Where is my son?" Mrs. Gloop asked, gripping Wonka's arm again and more or less pushing me aside.

Mr. Salt grabbed my shoulder to steady me, and Wonka glanced at him.

"That pipe," He said, his voice harsh as he looked back at Mrs. Gloop. "Leads directly to the room where I make my most delicious, strawberry coated fudge."

Mrs. Gloop's eyes filled with tears.

"So, he will be made into strawberry coated fudge?" She wailed, and I winced.

Wonka wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"No, I would never allow that. The taste would be disgusting. Could you imagine Augustus-flavored strawberry-coated Gloop? Nobody would buy it."

The way he said it made it sound like he'd considered the idea of human-remains being used in candy. He waved over an Oompa Loompa, who led Mrs. Gloop away by the edge of her skirt.

"That all seemed rather planned, don't you think?" Mr. Salt said quietly, letting go of my shoulder.

"Like they knew it was going to happen." Mike agreed, frowning at the Oompa Loompas, who'd returned to cutting down the gumdrops.

"That's ridiculous." Wonka told them, but he was looking at me.

"But how was his name in the song-?"

"Improvisation is a parlor trick, dear children." He interrupted Veruca, demonstrating what he meant with a little rhyme using Violet's favorite thing to chew on.

Mike instantly refuted him, but the others seemed convinced, or at least subdued. I didn't think they really wanted to imagine that Wonka had planned Augustus' humiliation; after all, that could only mean trouble for their own children.

I had a funny feeling that only one child would remain untouched by the end of the tour.

"Now, onwards with the tour." The chocolatier said, walking to the mouth of the lake, where a large pink boat was pulling up, manned by dozens of Oompa Loompas.

They instantly began giggling when they saw us – either our missing two people, or the fact that Violet and her mother were dressed very similarly to them, was apparently very funny.

"What are they laughing at?" Violet asked, oblivious.

Wonka smiled.

"It's probably all those gosh darn cocoa beans." He paused, and then, with a gleam in his eyes, said, "Oh, by the way, did you know that chocolate contains properties that trigger the release of endorphins in your brain… gives you the feeling of being in love."

"You don't say." Mrs. Beauregard said lowly, smiling in a way that made my stomach clench uneasily.

Something about the way she was looking at Wonka made me very uncomfortable… almost mad. Envious, perhaps? I was inexplicably relieved when he merely turned away, his mouth twisting in distaste.

"All aboard."

Veruca hurried forward to be the first on the boat, tugging her father along with her. Violet and her mother were close behind, and then Mike and his father got on. That left me on the back row with Wonka.

"Onwards." He called out, and the Oompa Loompas began to row, humming ominously.

Their humming reminded me of Augustus Gloop, who was probably still stuck in the chocolate machine. The events had chilled me to my core – not just the sight of Augustus being sucked up a tube whilst his mother screamed uncontrollably. No, it was the blasé attitude the other adults had at the sight. It was like they didn't even care that a boy would probably be scarred for the rest of his life.

I stared at the back of their heads, wondering if it would take their own children falling into mischief for them to realize how serious this was. Even if Wonka and his Oompa Loompas had planned it all, there was no way for these parents to know that.

They were as uncaring as my own parents.

"Sociopaths." I mumbled, and I saw Wonka glance at me from the corner of my eye.

"Most parents are." He murmured back. "Some only care for their own children; some do not care at all."

I didn't look at him, fidgeting with the ends of my sleeves.

"What about your parents, then? Where are they?" I whispered defensively.

He chuckled.

"That's a very good question, Kylie."

The way he said my name, low and almost seductive, made me look at him.

I almost wish I hadn't.

His lips were curled into an amused smirk, his eyebrows lowered over his dark eyes… and his eyes were just as intense and hypnotizing as I imagined they would be. It was hard to imagine him arranging for four children's potential deaths, but, at the same time, I couldn't help but think he did just that.

My stomach twisted in excitement at the possibility of, at the end of the day, me being the last one. His larger hands covered mine, stopping my unconscious fidgeting. He smiled when I absently laced my fingers through his.

"How do they know where they're going?" Violet suddenly asked, and I blinked, realizing that we weren't alone.

"They don't. There's no telling where they're going." Wonka replied, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "Turn on the lights!" He called out, and the overhead lights flickered on just as we entered a drop in the tunnel we'd entered sometime during our whispered conversation.

He'd stopped touching me when Violet had interrupted, but I grabbed his arm when we rushed down the tunnel at full speed. Chocolate rushed all around us, and the overhead lights flickered with different lights, making everything seem more chaotic than it should've been.

I couldn't help but to giggle from the rush that came with rowing down a rapid chocolate river. The others clung to their seats, looking terrified, while Wonka just smiled, letting me hold onto him.

"Pay attention. We're passing some very important rooms." He called out as the river slowed a bit.

I saw everything from coffee cream to, oddly enough, hair cream.

"What do you use hair cream for?" Mrs. Beauregard asked snidely, looking back at us.

Violet popped her gum, smirking like her mother had asked an unsolvable riddle.

"To lock in moisture, of course." Wonka replied, laughing sarcastically.

That made sense, I reasoned. After all, if Wonka hadn't left his factory in years, how would he wash himself if he didn't make his own soap? The odd thought of where Wonka actually lived in the factory passed through my head, but I was quickly distracted by another room we passed.

This one was open to the river by large, floor-to-ceiling windows. Inside, a living cow hung from the ceiling by chains, while five Oompa Loompas stood around it. Three of them held whips and were in the middle of… beating the animal. The other two stood under the cow, milking it.

The pun was not lost on me, no matter how odd the sight was.

"Whipped cream." I said, partly amused, partly horrified.

Wonka turned his dark eyes to mine, a smirk curling his mouth upwards.

"Precisely." He agreed joyfully.

His expression quickly changed when Veruca sneered, "That doesn't make any sense!"

Wonka looked at her, annoyance clear on his face.

"For your information, little girl, whipped cream isn't whipped cream at all unless it's been whipped with whips."

Mr. Salt shifted uncomfortably, placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder. His eyes flickered to mine, and I suddenly recalled his unbidden warning in the candy ecosystem.

"Everyone knows that." Wonka finished coldly.

I looked back up at him when Veruca rolled her eyes, turning around again. The chocolatier didn't spare me a glance, staring at the back of the other six's heads. His eyes were narrowed again, but this time, I found the expression angrier than when he'd looked at me. A foreboding chill ran down my spine.

As we slid smoothly around the corner, Wonka suddenly called out, "Stop the boat! I want to show you guys something."

His voice was back to the tour-guide one he'd used before Augustus was sucked up the tube, full of excitement and a seemingly genuine love for his creations.

The door the boat stopped at was named 'Inventing Room', as the bold, glowing letters on the outside exclaimed.

It was everything I would've expected.

Hundreds of machines littered the room, some large, some small. There were bubbling vats of liquid, and electricity passing between rods of metal, and dozens of Oompa Loompas scattered throughout the room, working on the machines.

A few of them turned to look at us briefly before they continued on with whatever job they'd been doing. For the most part though, we were ignored.

"Now, this is where the real magic happens." Wonka said, his eyes bright. "Now, feel free to look around, but just don't… touch anything."

Mike and Violet instantly ran to one of the big vats, while Veruca dragged her father over to a smaller machine that looked similar to a popcorn machine but was spitting out jellybeans.

I lifted my eyes to the ceiling, where metal walkways hung down. For the most part, the Oompa Loompas that walked on them paid us no mind, but there was a few that were just… staring at me. Unblinkingly. It was like they were waiting for me to do something.

"Mr. Wonka, what's this?" Violet called out, once again smacking her infamous gum.

"Oh!"

I jumped a bit when I realized Wonka was still next to me.

"This, my dear children, is one of my latest and greatest inventions."

He walked to the vat, where an Oompa Loompa kicked to the surface, a small, blue ball in his hand. Wonka smiled at him and took it, holding it between his fingers.

"This is my version of an everlasting gobstopper… except this one actually lasts forever! It's made for children with very little allowance money. They can suck and suck on one of these bad boys for as long as they wish, and it'll never lose its flavor, or get any smaller!"

His voice was cheerful, excited. I could tell that he was genuinely passionate about his creations.

"So… it's like gum." Violet concluded, and Wonka's expression darkened.

"No, it's nothing like gum. Gum is for chewing. If you tried to chew one of these, you'll break all your little teeth." He said harshly, and turned, walking to another machine.

Violet glanced back at her mother, who gave her a disappointed stare, shaking her head.

After that, as we walked to different machines and Wonka explained what they were, Violet was very subdued. It was when we got to one of the biggest machines, that I was suddenly aware of the Oompa Loompas overhead staring at us.

When the thin, candy strip slid out the end of the machine, I realized exactly why they were staring. Violet took the piece of gum, staring at it speculatively. The sounds of Mike's disgusted astonishment, Wonka's explanation, and Veruca's wariness was drowned out by the rushing of blood in my ears as I reached out, taking the gum from Violet's fingers as she went to put it in her mouth.

"Hey!" She cried, silencing the others as she stared coldly at me.

"Everything in here is experimental. Why would you try to eat anything when it could very well poison or kill you?" I responded, my voice just as cold as her eyes.

"I'm the world's champion in chewing gum! I'm not afraid of anything!"

She snatched the gum back, popping it into her mouth. Where she'd put her other piece, I didn't know.

"Besides, you're just jealous that I'm going to be more famous than you after this!" She added with a sneer.

I didn't feel angry… more like a cold acceptance.

"That's my girl." Her mother said proudly, brushing me aside with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, this is amazing!" Violet exclaimed excitedly. "Tomato soup! I can feel it running down my throat!"

Her mother gave me a nasty glare, her smile patronizing.

"Not so dangerous after all, is it?" Mrs. Beauregard snarked. She turned to her daughter with a smile. "My little girl is going to be the first one in the whole world to have a full-course meal in a piece of gum!"

I clenched my jaw, turning away as Violet exclaimed, "Roast beef and baked potato!"

Wonka, who'd been mysterious quiet during my interruption, warned, "Little girl, you may want to spit it out. I haven't gotten it quite right yet, especially when it comes to the –"

"Blueberry pie and ice cream!" Violet said in amazement.

"Yeah… that part." Wonka murmured, looking at me.

I glanced up at the Oompa Loompas when they began to hum. The others, Wonka being the exception, didn't seem to notice.

"What's happening to her nose?" Veruca asked, and I turned back around.

Sure enough, Violet's nose was a dark blue, and the color began to spread to her cheeks, and then her forehead and chin.

"What do you mean?" She demanded, lifting her hand to her face.

Her mother grabbed her shoulders, panic on her face.

"Violet? Violet, you're turning… violet!" She cried.

The laugh that fell from my lips must've been too loud because Mrs. Beauregard whirled on me, her eyes narrowed.

"How dare you? This is far from funny!" She yelled at me.

She was right, of course. As Violet's entire body was turning blue, she'd also began to swell up until she was easily as large as Augustus was… and she kept growing!

Even her mother had to back away with the rest of us as Violet became as blue and round as a giant blueberry. The top of her hair brushed against the undersides of the walkways. The Oompa Loompas took this moment to burst into song, and Mrs. Beauregard shifted from glaring at me to glaring at them.

"She's going to explode…" Mike muttered, frowning at Violet.

Veruca rolled her eyes.

"It serves her right. I knew that gum was a bad idea." She sneered, and then smiled at me. "I would've known better."

I said nothing, looking at Wonka when the song ended. He was staring at Violet, a small smirk on his lips. His eyes gleamed in the colorful lights around us.

"Wonka!" Mrs. Beauregard barked, her politeness from before long gone. "You've made my daughter into a blueberry!"

"Actually, she did that to herself." I snapped at her, and she spun on me again, her eyes lit with anger.

The only thing that stopped her from going off on me was her daughter's faint cry for help. She turned back to Wonka, her expression morphing into one of grief.

I was about to feel sorry for her, but then she asked, "How is she supposed to compete now?"

"You can enter her into a county fair." Veruca piped up.

I bit my lip to stifle my giggle, but Wonka had no such qualms. Mrs. Beauregard's face flushed red. Wonka turned to an Oompa Loompa.

"Why don't you roll Miss Violet into the boat with her mother… take them to the Juicing Room."

"The Juicing Room?" Mrs. Beauregard asked, horrified. "What are they going to do to her there?"

There was a certain, gleeful gleam in Wonka's eyes that made me believe that he was quite enjoying all of this.

"Well, we have to squeeze the juice out of her immediately, or else she might… pop."

Mrs. Beauregard let out a shrill cry of horror, hurrying after the Oompa Loompas rolling away her daughter.

"Come along, then. So much to see, and so little time!" Wonka said, leading us from the room.

We didn't go back the way we came, instead walking through a bright, white corridor.

"Will Violet always be a blueberry?" Veruca asked, pushing her way to the front.

Wonka glanced down at her.

"Maybe." He responded uncaringly.

She smiled, seeming pleased by his answer.

"It'll be a better fate for her jaws since I doubt, she'll be chewing that gum anymore."

"If you hate gum so much, why do you make it?" Mike demanded.

Wonka sighed.

"You know, you really shouldn't mumble." He said, ignoring the question altogether as we turned a corner.

The more I considered it, the more it seemed plausible that Wonka had built that particular machine in order to tempt Violet into giving up her place in the finale. Wasn't that how this day was turning out, anyways?

It was just like a gameshow. I wondered when I would be tempted.

"What's the big prize at the end?" Veruca asked.

"Yeah, and who gets it?" Mike added.

Wonka smiled at them, and it was hard to tell if it was fake or genuine.

"The best sort of prize is a surprise." He said cheerfully.

Veruca's laugh was high and forced. I winced at the sound, nearly running into the back of Mr. Teavee as we suddenly came to a stop.

"What is this room?" Mr. Salt asked.

The door itself was as white as the corridor, and just as nondescript.

"This room, my dear children, is a very special room. I hope you all have a tight grasp on your minds." Was all Wonka said before he opened the door.

I'm not sure what the others saw, why their faces seemed to blank as they stared into the room. Veruca was the first one to enter the room, with the others following her unquestioningly. In the end, only Wonka and I remained in the hallway.

The room itself was as white and empty as the corridor, but the others seemed to relax as they stood in there, staring at nothing. The longer I stood there, the door wide open, the more curious I became. There was something tugging at the edges of my mind, almost luring me into the room.

"That's it, Kylie. Don't fight it."

Wonka's voice sounded far away, very soft and unassuming. I didn't realize I had even moved into the room until I heard the door close softly behind me. Wonka moved past me, and something made me follow him to the center of the room, where the other four stood.

"You have remarkable mental strength, my dear." He told me, ignoring them altogether.

I stared up at him, unable to form words even if I had any.

"Now, this room is very special indeed. You see, while you and I stand here, mostly unaffected, they are trapped in their own minds, in a world created by their own imaginations."

He paused, tilting his head as he looked at me.

"You may be wondering why we are here. Among being a perfect trap for any intruders in my factory, this room also serves as a personality amplifier. I'm sure you've noticed how quickly these two are to hide their true selves, and well, if I'm to know who the true winner of today's adventure is, I have to know who the real Veruca Salt, Mike Teavee, and Kylie Trinket are."

He stepped towards me, hooking his left index finger under my chin.

"Hmm… perhaps you aren't as impervious as I'd thought. After all, I'm not even real."

When he kissed me a moment later, his mouth sure felt real against mine.

Something odd must've happened then, because the next time I blinked open my eyes, we were walking down a white corridor. I stumbled a bit, and Veruca looked back at me, smirking.

"Have a nice fall?" She snarked.

I blinked at her, feeling strangely disorientated. Her sudden aggression towards me didn't help my confusion.

"It's not her fault she is unable to walk without being surrounded by cameras, love." Her father murmured, placing his hand on her shoulder.

I felt like I was forgetting something important, but I honestly had no idea what it was. The last thing I remembered was... Violet being turned into a blueberry.

"Ah!" Mr. Salt exclaimed as we came to a stop.

I looked up at the sign on the door: The Nut Room.

"Now, this is a business I know all about. Tell me, Wonka, what machine do you use to package your nuts?"

Wonka turned, an odd look on his face.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He admitted, causing Mr. Salt to frown.

He pushed open the door, waving us inside. As I passed him, a sudden shiver ran down my spine. I swore I heard him laugh, but his face was impassive when I glanced up at him.

The door led out onto a balcony in the circular room, where a narrow, steep set of stairs led down to the bottom of the room. There, on little stools facing four long trays that were curved with the wall, sat dozens and dozens of squirrels.

As I watched, nuts fell from the huge container hanging in the center of the room, down little tubes to each squirrel's tray. The squirrels then tapped their nut against the edge of their tray. Sometimes, the squirrel would pull a nut from within the cracked shell. Other times, the squirrel would throw it behind them, where it would roll down the slope into a large hole in the center of the room.

"Why do you use squirrels for this, and not Oompa Loompas?" Mr. Salt asked.

"Because only squirrels can get the whole nut out almost every time." Wonka replied easily.

That made sense. It was hard to argue with the fact that squirrels would be naturally better at unshelling nuts. I wondered how he'd trained them.

"It must've taken forever to train them." I spoke.

"With enough incentive, you can get anyone or thing to do what you want." Wonka told me.

As if on cue, Veruca suddenly exclaimed, "Daddy, I want a squirrel!"

I rolled my eyes, leaning against the rail as I listened half-heartedly to the squabble. I had figured Veruca was spoiled, but she seemed to be acting worse now that she had something she wanted. I was unsurprised when she crawled between the railings, hurrying down the stairs in search of her own prize.

"Veruca, come back here!" Mr. Salt cried, but she ignored him, staring around at the squirrels.

"You! You're small enough! Please, go get her." He turned on me, his eyes wide and pleading.

When I didn't move, staring at him coldly, he added, "I helped you, didn't I? I warned you about-"

He broke off as Veruca let out a scream as the squirrels lunged at her. As she struggled to get the squirrels off her, Mr. Salt gave up trying to convince me, turning helplessly to Wonka, who pulled out a large ring of seemingly hundreds of keys.

It was too late, though. The humming had already begun. By the time Wonka found the right key, Veruca had already been dragged to the hole by the squirrels and tossed down. Her scream echoed throughout the room, a backtrack to the Oompa Loompas' song.

Mr. Salt threw open the gate, hurrying down the stairs.

"Veruca? Veruca!"

As soon as he got close to the hole, a squirrel leaped off its stool, hitting his back with enough force to send him down after his daughter.

"Well, that's that, I suppose." Wonka said carelessly, turning and striding from the room.

"That's... that? Are they going to be alright?" Mr. Teavee asked as we followed him.

Wonka waved his hand dismissively.

"They will survive the fall." He said, and then quickly changed the subject. "You know what? I completely forgot about the glass elevator. That is a much quicker way to get around the factory."

Somehow, I doubted that he had forgotten at all. It was very coincidental that at the end of the hallway, the elevator was waiting for us, doors wide open like Wonka had summoned it. It was a show of faith that we followed him in, despite not being able to see the floor.

"There can't be this many rooms." Mike said, staring at all the buttons.

Wonka's smile was a bit unnerving in the single, overhead light.

"Oh, but this is not a normal elevator, is it?"

He pressed a button, and then, we were flying.

It wasn't really flying, of course, as I could see a thin track overhead that the elevator followed, but it was so quick, and went in so many directions, that I found myself grabbing Wonka's arm to keep myself from falling.

He smiled down at me; his eyes filled with a wild light that made my own smile form.

He leaned down, his breath brushing against my ear as he whispered, "As usual, you are impervious to my tricks."

There was a strange emphasis on the word 'impervious', that made my head feel lighter. When I turned my head to look at him, I felt his lips brush against my cheek.

"This is boring! I want to pick a room!" Mike snapped, turning to us.

Wonka's smile was cold as he looked at Mike.

"Go ahead, then."

I blinked slowly, trying to clear the fog that had become imbedded in my mind. It was becoming harder to think of anything but Wonka's hand against my back.

"Hmm…" Mike murmured as he looked around.

Finally, he pushed a button next to his head: TV ROOM. The elevator slammed to a stop, causing both Mike and Mr. Teavee to fall into the glass.

"Not very secure." Mr. Teavee muttered.

Wonka chuckled under his breath.

Everything was quite confusing. I vaguely recalled exiting the elevator, and being told to put on strange, white goggles with spherical lenses. The fact that I was standing in front of Mr. Teavee, who held a very… small Mike, whilst Oompa Loompas hummed all around us, made little sense, but I couldn't remember anything that had happened since we'd arrived in this room.

"What happened-?" I tried to ask, but Mr. Teavee interrupted harshly.

"This psychopath turned my son into an ant!" He shouted. "And, if you had any sense, girl, you'd get as far from him as you can!"

I stared at him, not quite understanding. Wonka had been nothing but nice to me since I'd arrived at the factory… right?

With that, Mr. Teavee followed the Oompa Loompas out of the room, leaving me alone with Wonka and the few other Oompa Loompas that stayed behind.

"My dear, congratulations!"

The words sent a warm rush down my spine, but I still felt cold, staring at the door Mr. Teavee had just exited from. His words echoed through my mind.

"What happened to Mike?" I asked, looking up at Wonka, who smiled down at me.

"That nasty little boy got just what he deserved – as did the rest. He made a rotten decision and got rotten consequences in return."

He held out his hand, gazing calmly into my eyes. The fogginess around my thoughts seemed to thin enough for me to realize that the Oompa Loompas were shooting furtive glances in our direction.

"Come with me, my dear. I will show you your prize." Wonka murmured.

His glove was soft against my palm, but his hand was firm as he pulled me against him. The warmth of his body against mine caused me to instinctively relax, making the fuzziness in my head grow. He led me from the room, and I barely noticed when he removed the glasses from my face.

It was hard to think of anything. It was hard to fight him when, after a short elevator ride, he led me into a colorful room that had swirling spirals on every square inch of the walls, floor, and ceiling. My fingers twitched in an effort to leave the chair after he'd gently pushed me into it. It was no use, though. I was not strapped into the chair, but somehow, I was still unable to move.

"What's happening?" I whispered, staring at Wonka.

I should've been afraid, but there was no emotion inside of me… only a blank fog. His fingers curled under my chin, a small smile on his face.

"I have been watching you, Kylie, for years now. I have seen you grow up into the young woman you are today. You are one of the few people who are like me – neglected by their prestigious parents, cast aside by the rest of society. The more I have watched you, the more I realized that I am in love with you."

I caught his hand in mine as he went to pull away.

"You… you love me?" I asked quietly, my face burning.

His eyes softened, and he laced his fingers through mine.

"Of course, I do. That is why I created this competition… to give you the opportunity to live here with me. You'd be far away from the cameras. In fact, you'd never have any need to step outside this factory again!"

In perhaps another world, his words would've been extremely creepy. But, with me being who I was, no cameras around was perhaps the best thing that could ever happen.

"What about my parents?" I asked. "Won't they come looking for me?"

He let go of my hand, reaching into his coat and pulling out a paper and a pen.

"I just need one signature, Kylie, and even if your parents came here, they would have no control over whether you stayed or not." He murmured; his eyes focused on my face as I took the paper.

"Marriage?" I blurted out, stunned.

He smiled soothingly, and the swirls behind his head seemed to grow in intensity. I watched them, somehow entranced by the swirling patterns.

"It's just a precaution, my dear." Wonka whispered, squeezing my hand gently.

"Okay…" I whispered back.

He pressed the pen into my hand, and I looked down. The words on the paper seemed to swirl, making it hard for me to read them. It didn't really matter what they said, did it? Wonka was offering me a way out of the nightmare that I'd been living… who was I to complain about how he did it?

His smile was warm as he took the signed paper from me.

"Come along, my dear. It's been quite a long day, and you need to rest."

Oddly enough, as we walked from the room, I found myself relaxing even more, warm happiness rushing through me. Wonka had secured my freedom, and he'd professed his love for me. I was loved and free – the two things that I'd never dreamed could happen to me.

I vowed right there that I was going to love him as much as he loved me.

No matter the cost.


A/N: Thanks for reading!