No one knew about the girl that worked behind the walls of the chocolate factory down the street from the shabby house. No one knew what she witnesses, what she hears, and the plans she has to look over before they are put in to play. She had been there for four years, out of sight from the windows and even the man himself that owned the place. Yet, it was he who hired her and kept her busy with endless task and request that ranged from things for candies to shelf indulgence. It was he who brought her into his world of secrets; he thought he could twist her mind and make her bend in his favour. But She bent over for no one but herself and even then she didn't budge without a reason. In this loony man's world, it was a maze of wonders and a few frights. How easy it was to get lost behind so many doors that lead to so many rooms or nothing. How quick she cried to go home but refused to give in. He thought she would be an easy puppet to control but, she wasn't and he couldn't allow her to leave now that she knew all the things he could and would do. No one knew the whispers of destruction. No one knew-
The girl looked over the top of her computer placed in her lap, the small man in the red jumpsuit was standing at the foot of her bed signing away. Rolling her eyes she didn't have to finish translating what he was saying to know she was being called upon. She rose from her bed and placed her notebook down, closing it and sliding it under her pillow for safekeeping. Turning to the door she gave a quick 'thank you Dave' to the little man and he hurried off out of the much larger door. Slipping on her shoes and fixing her clothes she followed behind him but headed in the opposite direction dreading every step. It wasn't that she dreaded being called on because of the person. In fact, she adored the person calling her down the stairs to the basement of the factory. She loved how different he was by making her lock the vault-like doors behind her before continuing. She could gaze into his deep purple eyes as long as her heart allowed as he repeatedly scolds her for not putting on her gloves before entering the room. Oh, how she could listen to him rant on and on with a voice like his, about how much people outside the factory were the worse of the worse as she checked the pulse of the body in front of her.
All those things made her day until she realizes the bitter reality of what was going on. What she would eventually have to clean up, or at least order the little men to clean up because she was too lazy. Even then she was still falling down the rabbit hole willingly with every command she either obeyed or defied depending on the day. No matter how much he threw at her, she would recover and still be there beside him ready to take on anything.
"There you are! Why are you always late when I call you?" Vibrant purple eyes glared at her with annoyance. His anger wasn't toward her completely, but somewhat for her lollygagging arrival. It felt like the eyes threw daggers at her as she opens the door to one of the many cells. She rolled her eyes under her tinted shades and sighed.
"Because I never want to come when you call." She replied mumbling.
"Mumbling. You know I hate that."
"Yeah, that's why I do it, Sir." Wonka closed his eyes with a sigh and waved her forward to the scene. In front of them was another spy that tried to sneak into the factory for whatever reason. Taylor rolled her shoulder already feeling the aching pains that would soon come from having to do swinging motions. She looked over to her boss and watched him slip off his coat and adjusting his gloves. She was about to ask such a silly question of how he got in but was quickly cut off by the sound of the metal cabinet opening. Wonka grabbed what he needed than strolled back over with their choice of weapons in his hand, handing Taylor hers.
"I didn't wear the right clothes. His blood will stain my dress." She said pouting hoping her boss would take pity and tell her to go change. They had curtain clothes for these types of occasions, Wonka already wearing his all-black bodysuit except for his violet elbow gloves and high boots.
"Did you know what I was calling you for before you got here? "
"Then you should have gotten dress appropriately." He turned and faced the shaking gagged and bounded man in the chair. Gripping the handle of his weapon and pulling back into a hitting position. Taylor followed suit turned in the opposite direction.
"You're getting me a new dress then," She would say closing one eye and lining up her shot so she wouldn't miss. It would be a shame to miss when Wonka wasn't in a playing mood. She would be next on his hit list, in a more reasonable manner that it.
"I don't have to do anything, little girl."
With that, they swung on cue and the man's head shook with the equal force of pain and the sound of his skull cracking. Blood poured from his ears and nose and Taylor flinched, still not adjusted to this type of thing. Wonka hummed and nudged the man's shoulder to see if there was any response. There was but a small twitch and then his head lolled. Taylor held her breath about to gear up for another hit when Wonka already set into work finishing up. After more blood splatter than both of them really wanted to deal with Wonka stepped back and bathed in the release of his anger.
"God damn, you're sexy as fuck when you're covered in the blood of your enemies." Taylor cued in amusement resting her weapon across her shoulders. He shot her a look and she shrugged it off wishing he would just take the compliment.
He wasn't in the mood.
She knew that.
She always knew.
Yet she never ceased to stop toying with him.