"Oooooooooohh!" a ghostly moan echoed around the Inventing Room, causing Charlie to jump and drop a beaker. It landed on the floor and shattered, splattering its contents everywhere. The oompa-loompas nearby immediately started cleaning up the mess.
"Chaaaaaaaaaaarlieeeeeeeee," Charlie shuddered. Willy Wonka's ghost had been haunting the factory ever since a few weeks ago. It scared him senseless every time it happened. He'd found out in those weeks that he was terrified of ghosts. Not the kids who dressed up as ghosts on Halloween. They were okay. It was the kind of ghost that was haunting the factory that scared him. The real kind.
Charlie looked around, and then immediately wished he hadn't. For there, next to the Everlasting Gobstopper machine, hovered Willy's ghost.
Charlie could never quite get over the shock of seeing Willy, even his ghost, look disheveled. He had always thought that, even in death, Willy Wonka would be nothing but normally snazzily dressed. But that wasn't the case. Its clothes were burned and full of holes. It was hatless and didn't have a cane. Its long brown hair was now scorched black. In some places, it had been burned away, leaving large bald patches. Its face was burned, which made its eyes stand out creepily. For the first time, Charlie was able to see Willy's hands for all that was left of the gloves was a melted on ring of purple latex around his wrists with a bit that was burned beyond that and flared out around the bottom of each hand. The rest had burned away, leaving his hands as burned as his face.
"Chaaaaaaaaaaarlieeeeeeeee," The ghost moaned again, and, except that its feet floated about three inches from the floor, appeared to walk towards him.
Charlie backed up, away from the horrifying apparition, and fell over a chair.
"You are getting clumsy, Chaaaaaaaaaaarlieeeeeeeee," the ghost intoned. It smiled.
The smile was one of the worst things about Willy's ghost. For, instead of the perfect, white teeth Willy'd had in life, the teeth of the ghost were mostly missing. Only a few remained; a mocking reminder of former perfection. The gums were red, swollen, and bleeding. When the ghost spoke or smiled, blood would pour out.
"Get away from me!" Charlie exclaimed, scooting backwards, before getting to his feet and running out of the Inventing Room.
Slamming the door, Charlie leaned against it, panting. Not that he expected this to stop Willy's ghost. Everybody knew that ghosts could pass through walls. But not being in the same room as the phantom gave Charlie some time to plan his escape, if he could. "I don't know how much longer I can stand to be haunted like this," he said. "If it keeps up too much longer, I'll have to leave the factory. Promise or no promise."
Meanwhile, if Charlie had been able to look back in the Inventing Room, an interesting sight would have met his eyes.
Willy's ghost turned to the side. "Ptooey!" it said. Many pieces of black plastic came shooting out and bounced along the floor of the Inventing Room. Taking a wipe out of his pocket, he rubbed it along his hands, removing the makeup that made his hands look burned. Taking out another, he rubbed it over his face. These he let fall on the floor. Reaching into its mouth, he pulled out two long, red strips. One came from his top row of teeth and the other from the bottom. These had been attached to his gums and had been filled with fake blood. He set these on the nearby table. Removing the plastic glove cuffs, he set them near the strips. Lastly, he pulled off the wig, letting his chin length brown hair fall free and setting it near the glove cuffs. Burping suddenly, he dropped the three inches he'd been hovering in the air and landed on the floor. He giggled suddenly. "That is so much fun," he said. Some oompa-loompas, who knew about Willy's prank, laughed. With that, he walked around the room; making sure things were still in working order. Old habits die hard, as they say.
While he was standing near the door, he heard Charlie's voice. "I don't know how much longer I can stand to be haunted like this," he said. "If it keeps up too much longer, I'll have to leave the factory. Promise or no promise."
Willy covered his mouth with his hand in shock for a moment before dropping it. His face took on an expression similar to the one he wore after Charlie had refused to move into the factory without his family. He looked down at the oompa-loompas. "I had no idea I was scaring Charlie that badly," he said. "I thought it would be like some people feel about riding a roller coaster, or going through a haunted house, you know? Being scared, but in a fun way. I didn't mean to scare him that badly." He bowed his head, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked dejectedly back to the table. He sat down and cupped his head in his hands, setting his elbows on the table. "I feel terrible." He suddenly swiped the pieces of his costume that were on the table onto the floor. "No more! No more haunting!" He sighed. "I'll tell Charlie," he decided. "Then I'll leave this place. Charlie won't ever see me again. He won't want to, after what I did."