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Chapter Text

Willy woke up the morning of February 8th feeling content. Content, that's something he hadn't felt much in life. Willy was always on the move, thinking, working, creating. Since the Buckets have moved in however, he developed the ability to slow down and relax.

Willy got out of bed, showered, and dressed in his usual manner. A long coat, nice tailored pants, stylish boots, and his signature top hat. He peered into the mirror and admired his reflection, smoothing any stray hairs he may have. Once he was satisfied with himself he headed down the the Buckets living quarters.

The Buckets no longer lived in their slanted little house. They remained in it for over a year, but soon found themselves feeling cramped. Willy had an apartment built in for them close to where his own living area was. The slanted little house still remains in the chocolate room though, but it now serves more as playhouse or reading room.

Willy walked down the hallway towards the Buckets apartment lightly whistling a tune. He could smell the breakfast Mrs. Bucket has prepared and highly looked forward to it. Once he reached their door he gave it a short rhythmic knock before heading in.
Inside he was greeted with warm smiles from the Bucket family, and a hug from dear Charlie. After 2 years, he now sees Charlie as the son he never had.

Mrs. Bucket asked Willy if he would care for breakfast and he happily accepted the offer. The family sat and chatted while eating the delicious breakfast. Once finished, everyone helped clean up, including Willy. He loved his little family and wanted to help as much as he could.

While standing at the sink helping with the dishes, Willy felt a tug on his coat. He looked down at an Oompa Loompa holding a small stack of envelopes.

"Oh thank you!" Willy said nicely. The mail was sometimes fun to open. Occasionally Willy received mail from fans, which was always nice.

"Anything good today?" Grandpa George questioned.
Willy sorted through the mail. Bill, junk, bill, oh! Something handwritten! "Maybe!" Willy said cheerfully, "this is handwritten. Oh how I love mail from my customers. They are such wonderful people." Willy practically glowed while opening the letter.

"Willy, once you're done reading it, may I see it?" Charlie asked as he looked over Willy's shoulder. "Well of course my boy! Often people mention you and your ideas, so really it's to you as much as it is to me."
Willy finally got the letter open and started reading. Charlie watched his mentor's face while he read, and soon saw the chocolatier's face drop. Soon he had an expression that almost looked like fear. This made Charlie's blood run cold. What could that letter say to make Willy look like that? "Willy, are you okay? What does it say?"

Willy couldn't find words. He could barely breathe. The world around him seemed to slow down, and the air thicken. Who could have sent this, this horrible letter. Charlie approached and Willy snapped out of his trance and jerked the letter down out of his view. This is nothing a child should lay eyes on.

"Charlie, do you mind going to the chocolate room and counting the chocolate flowers? I want to make sure I have enough."  Willy made that request up as he went, he just wanted Charlie out of the room for a moment so he could discuss this letters with the adults of the family.

"But why Willy? What's in that letter?" Charlie asked with a concerned tone.

"Oh, nothing! Nothing important. Boring ole adult stuff. Billing, numbers and whatnot. Go one scoot, go count those flowers!" Willy escorted Charlie to the door while faking a bright smile, trying his hardest to not look concerned about anything.

Charlie looked up at Willy, he was sure that his friend has hiding something, or had finally lost his mind. He respected Willy's request though, and headed on down to the chocolate room.

As soon as Charlie was out, Willy shut and locked the door. He turned around and faced the Bucket family with that fake smile completely gone. The look of fear was back.

"Willy, is everything alright?" Mrs. Bucket asked. "No, I'm afraid it isn't. I don't want anyone to panic or lose their heads, this letter is probably a sick joke, a very sick, unsettling joke." Willy realized he had begun to ramble and looked down at the floor uncomfortably.

"Well, may we see the letter?" Mr. Bucket said while walking up to Willy. "Huh? Yea I guess. I warn you though," Willy said "it's not nice. It has some pretty strong language in it. That's what I didn't want Charlie to see. I don't want to scare him."

"Okay, I think I can handle it Mr. Wonka." Mr. Bucket grabbed the letter from Willy's hands and began reading.

Dear Wonka,

How have you been? Hell why am I asking, I can see that hideous factory and can read the paper. I know you're doing fucking fabulous. I can't believe a little faggot like you made it so big. You don't deserve a single fucking thing that that you have. My father is far better at making candy. He spent his whole life making the best candies I have ever had. The difference between him and you? He's not as flashy and fucking weird as you. He makes classic candies, ones that will be here until the end of time. While you on the other hand make fad candies, ones that are big right now, making your weird ass filthy rich. One day though, your weirdness will go out of fashion. But personally, Im afraid that day won't be soon enough. So I am here to get rid of you. I know that's why I was placed on this earth, to take you down. God told me. He told me that you are a damn demon that was put on earth by Satan to destroy good people like my father. Count your days Wonka, because I will soon send you back to hell where you came from.




Mr. Bucket finished the letter and was taken back by it's words. This is the ramblings of a deeply disturbed individual. He looked up at Willy who still looked frightened. "Mr. Wonka, this is indeed, um, disturbing to say the least. But let's not panic just yet. Like you said, this is probably a weird joke. I wouldn't worry too much." He handed the letter back to Willy.

Willy gave a nervous laugh "ha, yea you're probably right, you're probably right..."

Mrs. Bucket pipped in to try and cheer Willy up "How about you go get Charlie and help him with those flowers, get your mind off of this, okay?"

"Okay." Willy said weakly, placing the letter in his jacket pocket. "I'll go find him, thanks for making me feel a little better."

After Willy left the room, Mr. Bucket told his wife the gist of the letter. She looked at him concerned "Do you really think this is a joke? What if this is something serious?"

Mr. Bucket sighed, "I'm going to stay positive for now. Let's just wait and see what happens."

Chapter Text

Willy tried to go about his day as normally as possible.  Him and Charlie worked in the inventing room, tested new candies, and pondered design ideas. The letter stayed in the back of his mind though. Willy could tell that Charlie hadn't forgot about it yet either. Ever so often Charlie would casually ask about the letter, but Willy would always change the subject immediately.

"So Willy," Charlie said as they walked back to the living quarters, "can you give me a hint to what that letter was about this morning? Was it bad news?" Willy pursed his lips and kept walking, he knew he couldn't hide the letter forever, but for now he was going to try. "Charlie, please, it was nothing. Stop asking." Charlie was taken back by Willy's tone, it was stern and serious, very unlike Willy.

Once they got to the apartments, Willy fiend exhaustion and headed to his door. "Aren't you coming for dinner?" Charlie asked.

"Hmm? Oh no, not tonight Charlie. I'm so tired I can barely hold my head up! Tell your family good night for me." Willy then headed inside his apartment and shut the door quickly.

Inside Willy changed into more comfortable clothing and poured himself a glass of wine. He rarely drank, but his nerves were on edge and he hoped some alcohol would help. Willy sat down and looked at the letter. He inspected each letter, the wording, the ink it was written in. He concluded that the handwriting was that of a man. There was no way to be 100 percent sure, but that's what it seemed to him. The writing seemed to be hastily written as well. No pools of ink to show that the writer had stopped to think about what was being written. It all seemed to be one long string of thought.

The mention of God also perplexed Willy. He himself had never been religious and identified as agnostic. The writer however believed that god had spoken to him directly. To Willy this screamed nutty, which relieved and unnerved him at the same time. On one hand, if the person is a nut, maybe they are locked up somewhere, or home bound. One the other hand, someone unstable like this person seems to be could be capable of some messed up things.

Willy noticed that he had been fixated on the letter for a while now, it was almost midnight. He sighed and put the letter in his desk drawer. It wouldn't help his nervous state of mind at all if he didn't get any sleep. Willy made his way to his bed and laid down.

Sleep did not come easy. Willy's mind raced with possibilities. Who was this person and who was their dad? He was pretty sure that Slugworh never had children, neither did Probnose or Ficklegruber. So who could it be? And J? Was that the name or just a piece of a name, or just a random damn letter the nut picked out? As these thoughts passed through his mind, Willy tossed and turned. Every time he fell asleep he jerked awake, convinced someone was in the room with him.

Defeated, he knew sleep wasn't going to happen. Willy got out of bed, walked to his small kitchen and grabbed the wine bottle. He didn't bother getting a glass and just drank from the bottle. His stress level was now high, and he was desperate to feel even a little relaxed. He took the bottle back to the bedroom with him to finish it off.

After downing the whole bottle, he finally fell into a deep slumber. It was not restful sleep however. Every dream that occurred was frightening. Willy dreamed of being lost in an unknown building, of being followed. Willy heard voices in his sleep, threatening him, belittling him.

As Willy slept through the night, someone in that sleepy town was placing a letter in the mailbox. As they placed it in, a grin formed on their face. The fun was only starting.

Chapter Text

The sun made its way through the dark curtains in Willy's room. When it hit him he scrunched his face and groaned. What time is it? Willy rolled over and put his feet on the ground. His head was pounding and he felt slightly nauseous. "Ugh, why do I feel so terrible?" As soon as he finished that thought he spotted the empty bottle of wine sitting on his night stand. "Oh yea...that's why." Willy struggled to stand and walked into the bathroom. He glanced into the mirror, "oh lord, I look like a truck hit me."

Knock knock knock, "Willy, are you okay? It's almost noon." Charlie asked. "Noon? Shit." Willy mumbled to himself. "Um, yea Charlie, I'm fine, just overslept a little. I'll be out soon!" Willy faked cheeriness. He sighed and undressed to shower. Maybe that would make him feel human again. In the shower his headache soothed a little, but his thoughts started up again. That letter. That freaking weird letter. Should he be concerned. He felt like he should be. It gnawed on his insides, making him feel sicker. He groaned again and finished his shower. Standing there and getting pruny wasn't going to help anything.

Once dressed he headed down to the inventing room. He still wasn't up to talking to the Buckets. He felt a little guilty for avoiding them, but he wasn't sure he could fake being okay, and he hated showing emotions other than ok and happy.  Willy tinkered with the equipment, no ideas were coming to him. It all seemed foreign to him suddenly. His mind was elsewhere.

While staring at the bubbles forming in a vial, an Oompa Loompa walked up to him and handed him the mail. Willy looked at the envelopes and felt like someone punched him in the gut. He thanked the Oompa Loompa and stared at the mail. What if there's another letter? What if it's worse than the one yesterday? Willy just wanted this problem to go away, he didn't want to have to deal with this. Curiosity got the best of him though, and he picked up the stack of mail. The first one he saw was innocent enough, it was from the bank. Not fun, but not threatening. The next, a credit card application, which he didn't need. The third was just the water bill. The fourth however looked like the envelope the threatening letter arrived it. Same color, same handwriting, no return address.  Willy realized he wasn't breathing, or blinking. He quickly shoved the letter into his jacket pocket and sat down. He felt panic rise and his breathing suddenly quickened. This can't be happening. It can't be. "Why me? What the hell did I do?!" Willy said to himself.

Suddenly he heard footsteps coming his way. Logically he knew that it was probably just Charlie, but he still was afraid. "Willy? Are you in here?" It was Charlie. Thank god. It was just Charlie. Willy took a deep breath and tried his best to compose himself so Charlie wouldn't be suspicious.

"Yea Charlie, I'm over here!" Willy thought he sounded pretty convincing, he thought he sounded pretty normal. He smiled to himself at being such a good actor.

"Willy, are you okay? You sound funny." Darn, maybe he wasn't as convincing as he thought. "Yea Charlie, I'm fine! Honestly I got a little aggravated at this machine, just couldn't get the darn thing to work right" Willy giggled as he finished his sentence.

Charlie wasn't convinced. He looked at Willy and noticed he didn't look well. He had dark circles under his eyes, like he didn't sleep. "Willy, are you sure you're ok? You look like you've been sick."

"Well, isn't that a nice compliment." Willy thought to himself. "Yes Charlie, I am fine. Just didn't sleep very well is all. That happens when you get older." Charlie seemed convinced enough for now, thank heavens.

They worked the day as normally as possible. Charlie kept staring at Willy with curious eyes, and it made him uncomfortable. Willy just wished this whole thing was over, or even better, it never happened. The letter in his pocket was preventing him from believing that. He could almost feel it's weight. It haunted him.

He decided that he was going to get one of the Bucket p-p-pa, adults to read the letter for him. He had to. He couldn't live not knowing what was within it. Maybe literally, what if it was a serious, actual, detailed threat? This could be life or death. That thought scared him. Life or death. He shuddered at the thought.

Willy lucked out at getting time with the adult Buckets with out Charlie. Charlie had already planned to go see a movie. Usually Willy was a little apprehensive about Charlie going out, but he welcomed it today. Willy said his goodbyes to Charlie as he headed out, told him to be careful and not stay out too late. As soon as Charlie left the factory Willy promptly made his way to the Buckets. He had to know what was with in this letter.

Willy knocked on the door, but not as rhythmically as normal. He didn't have the energy. He walked in to the room and the family immediately knew something was up. "Willy dear, you okay?" Mrs. Bucket asked. "No, not really. Can you all do me a favor? another letter and I can't make myself read it. I'm too.... afraid." Willy hated admitting that. He hated looking weak.

"Of course Willy, let's see it." Mr. Bucket said as he approached Willy. Willy reached into his jacket pocket. Even touching the letter made him feel funny. Mr. Bucket opened it painfully slow, at least that's how it felt to Willy. The wait was killing him. As Mr. Bucket read the letter, Willy watched his face, looking for any hint of what the letter might say.

"Um, well this letter is very short Willy. But... uh... what it says is concerning." Willy looked at him as he waited for more "what's it say, just tell me." Mr. Bucket looked at Willy with worried eyes "all is says it's "see you soon."

Chapter Text

Willy couldn't believe it, that's all it said "see you soon." This person was crazy. How soon is soon? "Willy?" Suddenly Willy was jerked from his thoughts. Both Buckets looked very concerned. "Maybe," Mrs. Bucket started, "you should get the police involved in this. This is scary." Willy thought that she may be right. This may be getting out of his control. Not only could this person hurt him, but they could hurt the Buckets, and Willy couldn't live with that.

"And maybe, we should tell Charlie." Mr. Bucket said. Willy sighed. He knew he had to tell Charlie, but the idea of scaring him was not a pleasant one. "Well, let's cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, let's go to the police so we can get back before Charlie comes home."

Willy and Charlie's parents got into the glass elevator and headed to the police station. Willy felt foolish. He hated asking for help. He just knew the cops would think he was being a big baby about this. As they landed dread filled Willy. He hated this so much.
Once landed they headed inside. Willy had the letters tucked into his jacket. When they reached the door Willy wanted to turn around and just disappear. When Mrs. Bucket saw Willy pause she grabbed his arm and pulled him on in. She knew him well enough to know that this whole thing was making him very uncomfortable.

Officer Cooper sat at his desk looking through files on his computer. It had been a slow week. He supposed that's a good thing in his line of business, but still he was bored. Suddenly the door opened. 2 men and a woman walked in. One of the men was rather odd looking. He was dressed very fancy and had a top hat on. One didn't see that very often in this little town. The three people approached his desk.

"How can I help you all?" Officer Cooper asked politely. "Mr. Wonka here has received some threatening letters that we think the police should look at." Mrs Bucket said as she gently pushed Willy towards the officer. Willy nervously got the letters out and handed them to the man. "I received the long one yesterday, and the short one today."

"I see," Officer Cooper said while taking the letters. He walked back to his desk and turned on a overhead lamp so he could see the letters clearly. He opened the long letter first and read it, then the short one. Willy and the Buckets stood eagerly waiting for the Officer's reply or advice.

"Well, these are certainly threatening, but there simply isn't enough evidence do actually do anything yet." Willy wasn't a fan of this response. Even though he predicted nothing would be done, actually being faced with that answer sparked something inside of him. " So you're just going to wait until I'm murdered, is that it? I can see we wasted our time coming here!" Willy was mad. Madder than he thought he would get in this situation.

"Now hold on Mr. Wonka," Officer Cooper defended himself, "we'll have officers patrol around the factory, but that's all we can do for now. I'm going to make copies of these letters so we study the handwriting, but that's all we can do. I'm sorry." Willy just gave him the evil eye. He knew logically that the officer was right, but he was still mad. He chose to keep his mouth shut so he wouldn't say anything he'd regret. "Thank you Officer," said Mrs. Bucket said "let us know if you see anything unusual."

The three got back into the elevator and headed back to the factory. Willy felt defeated. How is he going to be able to relax with these silly threats and nothing substantial being done about them. He also dreaded having to tell Charlie.

When they got back to the factory Charlie had already gotten home. "Hey everyone!" Charlie said cheerfully "where have you been?"  All the adults looked at each other knowing someone was going to have to say something. Willy reached into his jacket and handed Charlie the letters "Here. Read these. We were at the police station. Sorry Mr. and Mrs. Bucket for exposing him to the foul language in them."

Charlie quickly grabbed the letters, fearing that someone would change their mind and take them from him. He quickly read them, having a hard time believing someone would say these things to Willy. "Who could have wrote these Willy..?" Charlie asked sadly.

"I have no idea Charlie. I thought on it all night and I can't think of a soul. I don't know what to think." Charlie thought for a moment, "What did the police say? Are the going to help?" Mr. Bucket walked up behind Charlie "They are going to have some police patrol the area and study the letters. That's all for now."

"What are we going to do?" Leave it to a child to ask the real questions. Willy wasn't sure. He had a security system of course, and security cameras, but are there other things they could do? "Well, I guess I'll keep and eye on the cameras, but other than that Charlie I don't know." Willy answered. "Maybe we could all stick together and stay in the same apartment." Charlie suggested. Willy raised an eyebrow at that idea "Charlie I'm not sure about that, I..."

"I think that's a marvelous idea Charlie." Mrs. Bucket added "Willy think about it, if something happened, you would be all alone over there. That's not safe." Willy begrudgingly agreed. She was right. If someone broke in and was coming for him, being alone wouldn't be the ideal.

Charlie went over and helped Willy get some of his things he'll need overnight. Willy didn't like staying anywhere but his room overnight. He enjoyed his alone time, needed it really. He hadn't had to stay with others overnight in years. He wasn't looking forward to it.

Willy decided that the couch in the living room was his best choice, he didn't want to displace anyone. It was close to the bathroom and the door, so it made Willy comfortable. After dinner everyone settled in and went to bed. A nervous tone was still in the air among the family.

Willy laid on his back staring at the ceiling. How did it come to this so quickly. 2 days ago things were fabulous. Now, he feared for his life while having to sleep on a couch. Willy craved some wine, or liquor. Didn't matter at this point, he was stressed and tired. He wished he had snuck some in his bag when he was packing, but Charlie would have seen. Willy preferred people didn't know that he drank sometimes.

It seemed like the longest night in history. Willy dozed off a couple of times, but was awake most of the night. It was now 7 am and Willy wondered when someone was going to get up. If they didn't soon he was just going to head back to his apartment since the sun was up. That was safe right? He didn't really want to use the Bucket's shower anyways. With that thought he got up off the couch. As he got up he heard his back crack, it wasn't the best sleeping couch in the world that's for sure.

Willy quietly gathered some of his things and headed toward the door. Slowly he turned the knob, trying not to make any sound. He didn't want to wake anyone. Once the door was opened he slipped out and walked down to his door. He looked forward to napping in his bed.

That thought was instantly killed when he got to his door. Written in red the words "IM HERE" was painted across his door. Willy's breathe caught in his throat and he dropped what he was holding. Someone was in the factory. How did they get in. How did they avoid tripping the alarm? Willy backed away from the door, stumbling over his own feet causing him to fall backwards. Frantically he crawled back to the Bucket's apartment. In his panic Willy couldn't seem to walk or talk correctly. He roughly opened the door , instantly making eye contact with Mr. Bucket. Willy's breathing was erratic and choppy as he yelled


Chapter Text

Panic filled the apartment. Willy was in a complete panic attack. He sat in the floor with his back against the wall trying his best to breathe. He could feel his face going numb. Tears rolled down his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to not let them fall. Mrs. Bucket sat in the floor with him and tried to calm him as Mr. Bucket called the police.

"Oh god, the call dropped, I'm gonna try again." Mr. Bucket said as he frantically dialed. "GOD it dropped again!" He checked his phone and noticed he had no service at all. Usually they had full service. "Willy, do you have a landline?"

"Yea, but it's in my room. I don't know about you, but I don't want to go over there." Willy said weakly. "Willy we are going to have to. We have to try and call for help!" Suddenly everyone noticed that Charlie had entered the room. He stood there motionless. He had been listening since Willy came in, but just then got the courage to come in. Willy tried to compose himself.

"I'll go over and call." Charlie stated bravely. "No Charlie, absolutely not." Said his mother. Willy agreed with Mrs. Bucket, "She's right Charlie, it's far too dangerous."

"Someone has to!" Charlie yelled "We can't just set here and wait for that damn nut to kill us all!"

"CHARLIE! Watch your language!" Mrs Bucket sternly said. "No! I'm going over there!" Charlie pushed by his Dad and mother. Willy promptly got up and followed Charlie.

"I'm not letting you do alone! I couldn't live with myself if you got hurt!" Willy caught up with Charlie right when he got to Willy's door. Charlie had felt so brave a minute ago, but now that he sees the writing in the door, his knees weaken. Charlie's parents are behind them now too. "Well," said Mr. Bucket, "we should go on in."

Willy gulped and reached for the door knob, turning it slowly. The door creaked open as they peered inside. It was mostly dark. The only light was a small ray of sun coming in. Willy thought sure the family could hear his heart beating. He couldn't remember a time when he was more frightened.

Charlie looked up as his mentor. He had never seen him look more human as he did right then. Willy looked like a frightened little boy. Charlie could relate. At this point he was also a frightened little boy. He was glad to have his family nearby.

They all walked into the apartment wide eyed. "Where's the phone?" Mr. Bucket whispered "Hm? Oh, it's next to the bed." Willy answered. All four of them slowly walked over to the bed. Mr. Bucket picked up the phone, dialed, and put the phone to his ear. Silence. He hung up and put the phone back to his ear. No dial tone. All the color drained from his face. This was no coincidence. Whoever was here had planned ahead, and well.

Mr. Bucket laid the phone back down. The sound of it hitting the receiver was a dull thud that confirmed everyone's fear.  There was no way of calling for help. 

"Maybe we can get out of the factory and get help." Charlie said while looking at Willy.

"Maybe. But the grandparents won't be able to travel that far in a quickly manner."

Mrs. Bucket thought for a moment, she hated the idea of leaving her parents behind, but it was the only choice. "Okay, we can go tell them what's happening and lock them into our apartment." It sounded barbaric to her, but she didn't know of a better option.

"Ok," said Willy, "let's head on back to you alls apartment and do that." Willy thought the idea was mean as well, but he agreed that it was the only feasible option.

They walked down the hall huddled together, Charlie in the lead. Once back at the Bucket apartment Mrs. Bucket told the grandparents what was going on. The guys stayed next to the door, on watch.

"Great, you're leaving us here to die." Grandpa George said grumpily.

"Pops, please." Mrs. Bucket replied "it's for your own safety. We are going for help."

"I liked that movie." Grandma Georgina added, getting an amused look from her family.

"We are going to go get help, in the next hour or so a police officer will be here for you, Okay?" Mrs. Bucket said trying to reassure the elders. They nodded, not looking completely convinced.

Mrs. Bucket emerged from the grandparents room to find the guys. They stood silently by the door. They were afraid to speak in fear that the intruder would hear them.

"Ready to go?" Mrs. Bucket asked.  They all nodded their heads. None of them could say "yes" to that question without feeling like they were lying.

They headed towards the glass elevator. "Do you think we should use this? It doesn't feel like it would be safe." Willy stated. "How else would we get to other rooms or an exit?" Charlie questioned. "Well, there are stairs. But they are confusing. Even I get lost in them at times heh" Willy chuckled nervously.

"Elevator is our best choice then I guess" Mr. Bucket confirmed. With that Willy pressed the button to summon the elevator. The "ding" had never been louder. It swooshed into view and opened. They all felt like getting in was a mistake. But they also felt like heading down the stairs was a mistake too. Staying was also a mistake. Nothing seemed to be a good idea.

They cautiously stepped into the elevator. Willy looked for the button labeled "chocolate room" and pressed it. He's hit that button hundreds of times and knows that the elevator goes down when pressed from this part of the factory. They all knew that by this point. It didn't go down. It flew backwards causing everyone to fall face forward. All four of them screamed as they fell.

"Willy!! Why is is going so fast?!" Mrs. Bucket shouted.

"I don't know, why would I know?!" Willy shouted back.

Before anyone could say another word, the elevator came to a screeching halt causing everyone to fall backwards.

"Is everyone okay?" Willy asked. A collection of yes' followed his question.

The elevator door opened suddenly, causing everyone to jump a little. The room they arrived at was dark and musty. "Where are we Willy?" Charlie asked. "I'm not sure. It looks like a storage room."

The room was very eerie. They felt like they were peering into a horror movie set.

"Willy, press another button. Get us out of here." Charlie said with a panicked tone.

Willy looked up at the buttons and hit "Inventing room." Nothing. He pressed "Fudge Mountain." Nothing. "Cotton Candy room" NOTHING. Willy angrily punched the elevator wall in defeat. "Nothing works, were freaking stuck!" He hit the wall again. Charlie grabbed Willy's hand before he could do it again.

Something moved in the dark room, causing everyone's eyes to dart in that direction. A figure walked out of the darkness and slowly approached the elevator.

The nightmare was only beginning.

Chapter Text

The figure walked closer to them, becoming illuminated by the elevator's lights. A large man stood there looking down on them with icy blue eyes. The facial expression on the man was happy, predatory, he had just captured his victim after all.

No one sitting inside the elevator could say a word. They were all frozen in fear. The man before them looked at them like prey.

The man stopped in front of the elevator a let out a laugh that put a chill down their spines. "Willy, how good it is to see you in the flesh!" the man said in a gruff voice.

Willy was still unable to respond. He felt tiny, weak. He knew terrible things were about to happen, and he feared speaking would make them happen sooner.

"What, you just gonna sit there looking at me like an idiot. Stand up!! All of you!"

All four did as told, not wanting to provoke the man. He walked up to Willy and stopped just inches from his face. Willy could feel the mans breathe on his face. The man was much bigger than Willy, standing at at least 6'4. Willy was 5'11, but at that moment he felt much smaller. He felt like a child next to this man.

"Do you have any idea who I am Wonka?"

"N-n-no. I don't" Willy looked down as he answered. He didn't want to make eye contact.

"I am Jake Clayton. My father is John Clayton. Ring any bells?" He asked sternly.

Willy thought. ", I'm sorry"



Jake grabbed Willy's coat, dragging him out of he elevator and throwing him to the ground knocking the wind out of him. He then reached up and pulled a string to turn on the light. He gave an icy glare down to Willy, who was trying to catch his breathe.

"I'm not surprised you don't remember the name Clayton. Someone as self centered as you never remembers others. What if I said "Clayton's Candies" does that trigger any kind of memory?!"

Willy looked up at the man ", again I'm sorry."

The words had barely finished coming out of Willy's mouth before Jake's boot plowed hard into Willy's stomach, causing him to yell out in pain.  


Willy looked up at the man again, baffled by what he was saying. He blamed him for his dads failure? That's nuts. "Look, lots of people at that time wanted to work with me, I turned them all down. It was nothing against your father I'm su-"

Jake started kicking Willy again, hard. Charlie couldn't stand seeing this anymore and screamed at him begging him to stop. "PLEASE! YOU'RE HURTING HIM PLEASE STOP!!"

Jake did stop, he turned around and looked at Charlie with pure evil in his eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun, pointing it at the Bucket family. When Willy saw this he got up and yelled "NO! Do you want want to me, I don't care but PLEASE, don't hurt them!!"

Jake turned towards Willy and chuckled. "Why should I listen to you when you didn't give my dad that same privilege?"

"I'm sorry, I really am, but I don't know your dad. It's not my fault he didn't succeed. Please, just let us go..." Willy pleaded

"Fuck no I'm not letting you go. The plan is to kill your ass so my dad has a chance to succeed before he dies. He's not doing well you know, but I'm sure you don't care. He can't succeed until YOU are gone."

Willy looked at the man with pleading eyes "please, killing me or them isn't going to help your dad. Please, just let us go and I won't call the police, please"

"Oh it'll help. I've spent all of my adult life hearing about how YOU and your stupid factory killed small businesses like my dads. People think you're some kind of candy god, but to me you are the devil. You ruined my life!"

Willy knew this "Jake" was delusional. He started mumbling to himself, walking back and forth holding his head in his hands. The Buckets took this as an opportunity to scoot closer to Willy and check to see if he's hurt.

"Willy are you okay?" Mrs. Bucket whispered.

"Yea, I'm sore but I think I'm okay" Willy responded. Charlie feared that Willy was hiding how hurt he was, his face had a constant grimace and he was holding his side.

Jake suddenly let out a blood curdling yell and kicked the wall, then turned to walk towards the group. They all scooted backwards trying to get away, but there was no where to go. Jake grabbed Willy and pulled him up and roughly pushed him against the wall, and hit him in the face hard enough to cause blood to splatter against the wall. Willy collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Jake looked down at Willy and laughed. Seeing his enemy laying on the ground out cold and bleeding was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He took the opportunity to get control of the Bucket family.  They were going to be nothing but a problem in his fun.

"Stand up! All of you!" Jake shouted while glaring at the family. They obeyed and stood, all shaking in fear. Jake grabbed the rope he had brought and tied all three of the Buckets to an old radiator pipe. Their restraints were tight and cut into their skin.

Jake went over to Willy and sat him up against the wall and tied him to a pipe on the other side of the room. Willy was still out, leaning limp against the wall. Jake then walked over to a small door and opened it. It appeared to lead to a bathroom. He went inside, slamming the door behind him. The Buckets could hear him screaming inside there, hitting the walls. This man was unhinged. They all feared they were not going to make it out of here alive.

Chapter Text

Jake paced the small bathroom that was attached to the storage room. His thoughts where racing. Violence boiled in his blood. Just seeing that pompous asshole Wonka filled him with an unspeakable rage. He thought of his father, his poor dying father. He once had a dream to be the most popular candy man in this town. His father's dream was small, he didn't want the world. He was just a good, old fashioned man that wanted a wholesome business.

But no, Wonka had to be here. He had to be flashy, have gimmick candy that caught everyone's attention. Candy that drove people to sin. He was the devil. Jake was sure of it. As he walked back and forth, flashbacks started to happen, driving him deeper into madness.

25 years ago, John Clayton opened his dream candy shop. It was small and simple. He sold the classics. Chocolate, hard candy, lollipops. Seasonal specials. Nothing flashy. His designs made one think of the 50's. When his shop opened it was an immediate hit in the small town. Clayton's Candies was a successful venture for a little over two years.

That all changed when a young man named Willy opened a shop up across the street. The man was only 18 or so. He was handsome, but odd. His designs were flashy and colorful. John wasn't concerned though. He knew that classic was always in style. No young trendsetter was going to threaten him.

John's son Jake helped him in the factory. Jake was about the same age as the Wonka fellow, but John raised him better than what he assumed Willy was. Jake was well behaved, dressed normal, acted normal. Jake went to church with his family every Sunday. He was the definition of wholesome.

"Been kinda slow today, hasn't it dad?" John looked over to his son. "I suppose it has been. No worries my boy, Wonka may be popular now, but people will tire of his gimmicks and come back here. Nothing beats the classics."

Jake smiled and nodded at his father in agreement. His dad was his role model, the smartest man in the world in his eyes. He had to be right.

The weeks passed though, and Clayton's Candies continued to lose business. When they would see old customers around town, all they could talk about was how good Wonka's candies were. It was like everyone forgot that Clayton's Candies was even there.

John stayed late at his shop one evening, staring over at Wonka's. It was almost 9 at night and his shop was still busy. John decided that when Wonka's shop slowed down and he was closing, he'd go over and ask  if they could work together, collaborate. Obviously Wonka knew something he didn't if he was doing so well. While he waited, John told his son of his idea. Jake thought it was great. He wanted to see his dad succeed more than anything.

The last customer filed out of Wonka's shop and John saw him flip the open sign over to closed. Now was his chance. He and Jake crossed the street and knocked on Wonka's door

They looked through the window and saw Willy turn around and look at them. He walked over and opened the door "I'm sorry gentlemen, the shop is closed for the day, I open back up tomorrow at 9."  Before Willy could shut the door back, John blocked the door with his foot. "That's not why I'm here Mr. Wonka, I actually own the shop across the street and was thinking that maybe we could work together, collaborate ideas."

Willy thought the idea over briefly, " I'm sorry, it's a very nice offer, but I'm going to have to pass. My ideas are mine alone, I'm not very good at thinking up things with others. I hope you understand." Willy meant what he said. He was never very good at working with others. He wouldn't even have workers in his shop if he was physically and mentally capable of doing it all.

Willy watched the mans face drop. One would have thought Willy had told the man he was going to kill him.  "Look I'm very sorry, I really am." Willy tried to sound as friendly as he could.

"Ok Wonka. But I think you're making a mistake. We could come up with some amazing things together. But I won't bother you. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

And with that John and Jake turned heel and headed back to their shop. Jake had never seen his dad so disappointed. "I'm sorry about that dad, but we can do fine on our own, we don't need him." Jake tried to be supportive and cheer up his dad. He hated seeing him so down.

"You're right son, we'll make it. Wonka won't be popular for long. You know what I always say?" John said while looking at his son

"Classic is always in style." Jake said smiling at his dad.

Several months later Jake was walking to the shop. Business had improved some, enough to keep the business afloat. Both he and his dad hoped that was a sign that they were getting their business back from Wonka.

While walking, Jake saw the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Wonka's was closed. And it looked like for good. He smiled wide and he walked to Wonka's abandoned shop. He noticed a note on the door. It read

Dear customers,

I have good and bad news. The bad news is that my shop will be closed for a few months. The good news is my business is expanding. I will be building a factory right here in town. Once it opens you will be able to buy my candies in almost all the stores in town, and across the county, and hopefully one day, across the world. This is a very exciting time and I can't wait to open my factory. I am currently taking applications, so if you would like to work in my factory, call me!

Thank you for your business
Willy Wonka

As Jake finished the note, tears pricked his eyes. Why was Wonka becoming so successful so quickly? It wasn't fair! He ran over to his dad's shop to tell him about the note, but he had already seen it. He knew once that factory opened his shop would be doomed. He decided right then and there to close up for good. His dream was dead. He was tired of trying to keep it alive.

Over the years Jake's dad became an alcoholic. He had no job and lived in a shoddy apartment. Jake blamed Wonka for everything that happened. If only he had worked with dad, things would have been different. He thought of it daily, driving himself into madness. He became obsessed with revenge. He wanted Wonka to suffer. All of his fantasies involved torturing the strange man, making him scream, making him cry in pain. He frequently dreamed of a voice telling him to get rid of Wonka, and Jake knew it was God talking to him. He was determined to make those fantasies come true, for him and God.

Jake began planning. It had been 21 years since his dad closed his shop. It high time he gave Willy what he deserved. Jake studied computers, and eventually hacked into Wonka's system. He now had control of everything, all while Wonka was oblivious to what was going on. He had been in the system for months before he sent the first letter. He wanted to perfect his ideas before putting them into place.

First thing he had to do was take down the security system. That was easy enough. He made the security camera play a looped video. One would have to study it for hours so discover it was a loop. Next, he hacked the elevator. Leave it to Wonka to have a computer controlled elevator. He reprogrammed it to only go to one room. The storage room.

Jake had been in the factory several times without being seen. The factory was a labyrinth. He finally found the old storage room. It appeared it hadn't been used in years. It was perfect. He knew this was the room Wonka would die in. He stood in the room feeling powerful. He couldn't wait to fulfill his desires.

Jake snapped out of his flashback. He was where he wanted to be for years. He smiled. It was time. Wonka would be waking any moment now. It was time for his games to begin.

Chapter Text

Pain. That's all Willy could register at the moment. His head hurt, so did his ribs. His eyes opened slowly. His face felt sticky and he tasted blood. When his eyes opened his vision was blurry. He tried to move but found that his arms were tied behind his back. He groaned slightly and looked up. His eyes met Charlie's. He was also tied, as were his p-p-paren, mom and dad. Charlie looked petrified.

"Willy, are you okay?" Charlie choked out.

"I think so. My head hurts." Willy said weakly.

"He hit you hard," Mrs. Bucket told him, " your nose and lip were bleeding pretty bad."

That explained the blood in his mouth and the sticky feeling on his face. He wished we could wash it off. The feeling was icky.

The small door in the room suddenly flew open and the large man came out, heading right for Willy. Jake grabbed Willy by the neck picking him up off the ground. The ropes that were around Willy's wrists slid up the pipe roughly, cutting into his skin. Both of Jake's large hands grasped Willy's neck, cutting off all air. Willy struggled, but it was no use. This man was twice his size, he probably couldn't stop him if his hands were free.

Jake watched as Willy struggled to breath. The smaller man struggled,  but he was weak. A sinister smile formed across his face as he noticed Willy's eyes roll to the back of his head and his lips turn blue. Right when he knew Wonka was about to pass out, he let go and let the man fall.

Suddenly Willy could breath again. He roughly fell back down and started violently coughing. It hurt so bad. He felt like the inside of this throat had been burned.

"You like that Wonka? I know I did. You look amazing when you're turning blue. It's a good color on you." Jake bent down to Willy's level. He reached down and titled Willy's face up so that they made eye contact. His eyes were red, tears streaked down his face. It truly was a beautiful site.

"Want me to do it again?" Jake asked, the question dripping with evil.

Willy frantically shook his head no. He was terrified and in pain. He wanted this all to end. It felt like a horrible nightmare.

"No? Then maybe I should do it to little Charlie." Jake started walking towards the Buckets.

"NO!" Willy screamed. "Don't touch him damn it! Don't you dare!"

"Oh so now you can talk! This kid is nothing special, I should just break his neck right now!"

All the Buckets were crying by this point and begging for mercy. Willy was ruthlessly pulling on his restraints, no caring about what damage he was putting on himself. They all watched as Jake reached down for Charlie, one large hand wrapping around his small neck. Willy screamed, so did Charlie's parents. Jake put some pressure on Charlie's neck and he coughed.

Charlie fell to the floor with a thud. Jake started laughing loudly. "You should have seen all of your faces! And heard your pitiful cries! It was music to me. I'm not going to kill this kid, no so quickly at least. What's the fun in killing quickly. I like the idea of torturing first."

Jake turned and gave a toothy smile to Willy, it made Willy feel sick. This man has proved to Willy that true evil does walk this earth, and true evil was in the room with them.

Jake pulled something out of his pocket. It was a switch blade. Willy felt sicker. He wanted to cry, but knew this sicko would enjoy it too much, so he held back.

"Did you know" Jake started "if you cut a mans testicles off, he'll bleed to death slowly. Isn't that interesting?" He said this while staring at the blade, caressing it. He walked over to Willy and squatted down to his level.

"I'd like to see you die like that. That, would be very entertaining." He poked Willy in the chest with the blade and started dragging it down, scratching Willy's skin and tearing his clothing. He stopped right above Willy's belt and looked into his eyes.


"..what?" Willy replied, not believing what was happening.

"You heard me, beg. If you don't, I'll cut them off and make you eat them. Now beg!"

Willy couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He began to sob.

"PLEASE don't hurt me, I'm begging you, I'll do anything for you, but please stop hurting me!"



Willy was screaming at this point. He was horrified. He almost wished that Jake would go ahead and kill him.

Jake got right in Willy's face and hissed "say that you're a fucking faggot that deserves to die. Now!"

"I...I'm a fa....I'm a faggot...-"

"FUCKING FAGGOT!" Jake harshly corrected

"I'm a...fucking faggot...that deserves to die..."

Jake sneered. "Good boy." He lifted the blade from Willy's waist and laughed. He was enjoying this immensely.

Jake decided to let them rest a little. He was getting overstimulated. He didn't want the fun to end too soon. He tightened the ropes on all of their wrists. He wanted them to be painful. Jake left the room and secluded himself in the bathroom again.

"Is Charlie okay?" Willy whispered across the room, voice a little rougher than normal due to the physical stress he had been put through.

"Yea, he's okay. Shaken up. We all are." Mr. Bucket replied.

"Are you okay?" Mrs. Bucket asked Willy.

"I guess. I'm alive." Willy didn't want them to know how he really felt. He felt like he might have a broken rib. It hurt to breath. He was determined to get free, discreetly he was working on his restraints.

They could hear Jake in the bathroom talking to himself. He would randomly laugh. It almost sounded like he was talking to someone. The man was insane and sick in the head.

Charlie sat quietly. His innocent mind had been corrupted. Before today he couldn't fathom evil. He thought that was something that was only in stories, not something that lived so close. Now that he and his loved ones were in evil's jaws, he was scared. More than scared. He was mortified. He now understood the phrase "scared to death." He felt like his heart may stop since it was beating so hard and fast.

He felt bad for Willy. He could tell he was hurt, physically and mentally. He was worried. What if he was hurt bad enough to die? What if he needed urgent medical attention and they couldn't get him there because they were held hostage. He didn't want to see Willy die. He loved Willy like a brother, maybe even like a second father. Charlie couldn't even begin to understand what would happen next.

Chapter Text


Jake peered into the small mirror hanging on the wall. He was physically and mentally stimulated. He'd never felt more alive. He could have swore he looked better too. He smiled at his reflection.

His body was reacting to this in a way he didn't expect. He was turned on. Jake thrusted against the sink and groaned. This is a pleasure he hadn't expected to experience today.

Willy continued to work on his constraints. He was making progress. They weren't as painfully tight anymore. He was still stuck though, but thankful that he was in a little less discomfort. The Buckets were also working on their ropes. They were all determined to survive.

"Willy, are you making any progress on your ropes?" Mr. Bucket whispered.

"Yea, a little. They don't hurt as bad now" Willy whispered back.

They didn't dare make too much noise. The last thing that they wanted to do was further upset the crazed man in the other room. They all prayed that the man would stay in there a long time.

They had no luck. Jake sauntered out of the bathroom with a new kind of attitude. He seemed overly confident, threatening in a new way. He walked over to Willy and gently caressed his face. Willy was confused by this sudden gentle touch. He dared to look up. When eye contact was made, he saw lust in Jake's eyes. Willy would have rather been beaten than have to endure what Jake seemed to have in mind.

Willy looked almost pretty Jake thought as he looked down on the man. His pants continued to tighten. He ran his hands through Willy's long hair and admired the dried blood on his face and the bruises forming around his neck. Those were beauty marks that he gifted him. He deserved every scratch and bruise.

Jake couldn't handle the tightness in his pants anymore. He rubbed it, while placing his crotch closer to Willy's face. He saw the man cringe and look down. Good. The more Wonka hated it, the more he loved it.

"Please don't do this..." Willy choked out. He could handle the pain of being beat, he wasn't sure if he could handle the embarrassment of being sexually assaulted in front of the Buckets, especially Charlie. He was so innocent and Willy wanted him to be innocent for much longer.

"Oh I like it when you beg, that's only making me want to do it more you little queer." Jake grabbed Willy's hair with his free hand and jerked him closer to his groin. He stopped rubbing himself and grabbed his gun. He felt Willy tense.

"You're going to suck me off, and if you try anything stupid, I'll shoot one of the Buckets are random. Understand?"

Tears started pouring from Willy's eyes. He wished he was dead. He would rather be shot in the head than have to do this. He had no choice though, he'd do anything to protect the Bucket family.

Willy heard Jake unzip his pants. It was the worst sound Willy had ever heard. Jake's already throbbing erection came out and was only inches away from Willy's mouth. Dead. He wished he was dead. This is a nightmare. Maybe he would wake up. Wake up!

Jake pushes his erection against Willy's lips "Open up queer. I'm sure this isn't the first time you've sucked a cock."

Willy's mouth slowly opened, his eyes shut. He may have to feel this, but he sure as hell wasn't going to see it. He felt the tip enter his mouth. The saltiness made him grimace. Aggressively Jake thrusted his length all the way in, causing him to gag. Willy tried to adjust to it. He feared if he gagged too much, or god forbid threw up, Jake would decide to kill one of the people he cared about most.

Jake loved the feeling of his manhood in his enemy's mouth. The look of sheer torture on his face, eyes shut tightly, but tears still finding a way out. It was amazing. It was all he fantasized and more. He thrusted in again, hard. "Suck" he demanded. Willy obeyed. He loved when Wonka obeyed.

Charlie couldn't watch. How could someone do this? His innocent mind couldn't handle it. He began to cry. He could hear Willy gag and whimper. Willy didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.  "Please stop hurting him, please stop.." Charlie sobbed. Jake didn't even look his way. He was powerless to help his friend.

Mr. and Mrs. Bucket couldn't watch either. They knew Willy wouldn't want them to. They were obviously worried for him, but they were worried about Charlie as well. He was innocent. More innocent than most boys his age. They sheltered him from the bad in the world, and suddenly they were trapped in a room with someone worse than bad. They were convinced Jake was the worst human being alive and would do anything to get Charlie away from him.

Jake was close to finishing. He could feel himself tighten. He grabbed the back of Willy's head and forced himself down his throat.

Willy could tell what was coming, and he dreaded it. Just the idea of having this disgusting man’s semen in his mouth made him sick. He was going to have a hard time not vomiting. Jake thrusted harder and moaned. Willy felt the vile liquid fill his mouth. "Swallow fag" Jake grunted at him. He forced it down. Jake pulled out, but Willy was still gagging. He had never felt as sick as he did at that moment.

"Good boy" Jake praised. He smoothed Willy's hair down in an oddly caring manner. A smile formed on his face, just like he had come up with the best idea in the world. Jake pulled his gun out, pointed it to the Buckets, and fired. Willy forced himself up and screamed.

Everyone's ears were ringing. No one could hear or think. It seemed like an eternity until anyone noticed who the bullet hit.

Chapter Text

The shot still reverberated in the small room. It was replaced with a shrill scream. Mrs. Bucket was crying and frantically trying to free her hands. Mr. Bucket had been shot in the shoulder, and he was bleeding out.
"Please, let me go!! Someone needs to put pressure on his wound! Please!" Mrs. Bucket pleaded.

Charlie was inconsolable. His wails were all Willy could hear. Seeing his heir in so much agony made everything else he endured seem small. Willy pulled on his restraints with all his strength until suddenly one hand was freed. He couldn't believe it, he was momentarily relieved. He held his hand behind his back and started working on the other. He had to do something. Mr. Bucket was going to die if he didn't get treatment.

Jake laughed. He cackled. This was the most fun he had ever had. Revenge had almost been completely served, and it was delicious. He turned towards Willy. It was time to finish him off.

Success, both of Willy's hands were free, but he kept it his secret. He had to wait for the right moment to lash out. Willy figured that he had a 100 percent chance of death if he did nothing, and a 95 percent chance if he fought back. He liked those odds. He carefully watched Jake. The crazy son of a bitch was laughing, and Willy hated him so much for it. He hated him for all the pain he has made his little family feel. He hated him for blaming others for his family's failures. He wanted him dead.

This was the first time Willy had ever felt homicidal. The feeling was overwhelming. He wanted to beat Jake to death. He wanted him to suffer like he had. He eyed the man, pray and predator were about to switch positions

Jake reached out and grabbed Willy's coat and pulled him close. Willy grabbed on to the pole so Jake wouldn't realize he was no longer tied. Jake placed the gun to Willy's temple and put his finger on the trigger "Time to meet your maker William." It was now or never.

Milliseconds before the trigger was pulled, Willy swung his hand up and grabbed Jake's wrist, pulling the gun away from his head. The gun fired, but missed. Willy heard his family's screams as he attempted to wrestle the gun from Jake. Both men hit the ground.

Adrenaline ran through Willy's veins, giving him extra strength. He pushed Jake to the ground, but he held on tight to the gun. "Give it up Wonka, you can't win!"

"Fuck you" Willy growled through is teeth. He was tired of Jake's bullshit. With one final push, the gun fell from Jake's hand. Willy lunged forward, grabbed it and quickly stood up.

This was it. This was his chance to kill this crazy son of a bitch. Jake peered up at Willy and smiled. That enraged Willy further. He aimed and pulled the trigger. Jake had been shot in the leg.

Willy had done that on purpose. He was living by Jake's words. He was going to torture him before he killed him. Jake was right about one thing. Torture was kind of fun.

"Stand up fucker!" Willy yelled at him "Now!"

Jake reluctantly obeyed. The tables were turned, and he was livid. His eyes pierced into Willy's.

Willy knew he was going to have to demobilize Jake quick. Mr. Bucket still needed attention. He thought about it. He had 3 bullets left. He needed to use them wisely. Willy aimed and shot again, this time in Jake's other leg. He yelled out in pain and collapsed.

Willy walked over to Jake and kicked him roughly in the head. Willy's goal was to knock him out, but not kill. Not yet. Jake was still conscious, so Willy drew back the gun and whacked Jake in the head with the gun butt. That did the trick. Once Willy was sure Jake was out, he patted him down and found the switch blade.

Quickly, Willy went to Charlie and his parents to cut their ropes. Willy stripped his jacket off and used the switch blade to cut off a sleeve.

"Here, wrap this around his wound and apply pressure. We'll be out of here soon, I promise."

They heard Jake move around. Willy stood and quickly turned. Jake was up on one knee attempting to get up. He had blood coming out of his mouth, and one of his eyes bulged out. Willy must have hit him way harder than he thought. Jake attempted to speak, but his words were slurred. Blood poured from his mouth as he tried, pooling on the floor.

"Willy, finish him off, please.." Mrs. Bucket pleaded.

Willy nodded. He lifted the gun and aimed it at Jake's head. "I don't know if you can still understand me, considering how fucked up your head is. But know this before you die. I didn't cause your dad to fail. That was all on him. He gave up. Do you think I didn't struggle to get where I am? Because I did. No one took me serious because of my age at the time, but it didn't stop me. I proved everyone wrong. The only thing your dad did was rehash old ideas and blame others for all of his problems. He was a fuck up, like you."

Jake spat at Willy, and began crawling towards him "Fuck you! Fuck you you stupid motherfuc-"


Willy shot Jake between the eyes. Both of his eyes bulged, blood and brains splattered on the wall behind him. Willy dropped the gun, his mouth agape with shock. He couldn't stop staring at Jake's body. He did that. He murdered someone. He suddenly heard his name being yelled. Willy came back to reality and turned around to face the Buckets. Charlie ran up to Willy and hugged him tightly. Mrs. Bucket did the same.

Willy smiled at his 3 loved one "let's get out of here."

Chapter Text

Willy rushed over to the elevator to see if he could fix it. There was a small box hidden in the top corner that functioned at a control panel. "Hold on, I'll see if I can reset it and undo whatever that bastard did."
He popped the box open and looked for the reset button inside. Once found, he pressed it.

"Okay everyone, get inside and cross your fingers. Let's see if that worked." Everyone huddled together and watched Willy press the button labeled "chocolate room." Nothing happened. "Okay then, let's try the inventing room." Willy pressed the button and once again, nothing happened. Willy let out a frustrated sigh.

"Ok guys. Plan B. There are escape tunnels in all rooms in case of elevator malfunction. However, since I have become unfamiliar with this room, we're going to have to look for it."

All four of them began moving boxes and pressing on the walls. Willy knew it had to be somewhere. He didn't make any rooms that were complete dead ends. Suddenly an idea struck him. The bathroom, it might be in there. He quickly walked inside and felt around. His hand grazed across the mirror, accidentally scooting it to the side. "Found it!" He excitingly shouted. The Buckets filed into the bathroom to see Willy pushing the mirror to the side, which was proving to be difficult due to his injuries. Charlie saw Willy struggle and decided to help.

"Okay, now that the mirror is out of the way, let's go, this should lead to a staircase. Are you going to be able to walk some Mr. Bucket?"

"Yes, I think so. If we take it slow I should be ok." 

The tunnel from the mirror was small, but they all easily made it through to the stairs. "Okie dokie, we need to head up" Willy informed them. Slowly they walked the stairs, not wanting to put any strain on Mr. Bucket. Willy was also in pain, but tried his best to hide it. He'd had enough looking weak for the day.

After 10 minutes of walking, they came to a door. "What's that lead to?" Charlie asked.

"I'm not sure. Let's see." Willy opened the door, but inside was pitch black. He stepped in and started running his hand up and down the wall trying to find the light switch. Finally, his hand landed on it and he clicked the light on.

They were in the cotton candy room. "Wonderful!" Willy exclaimed. "The chocolate room is not far from here, maybe a 15 minute walk. We're almost out!"

They all started walking a little faster, ignoring injuries the best they could. All of their minds wandered to the grandparents as they walked. Are they okay? They must be worried sick.

They came around a corner and could see a tiny door that lead to the chocolate room. They all started to run. Willy did more of a shuffle since his ribs hurt so bad. Once at the door, Willy dug out his keys and unlocked it. The Chocolate Room had never looked better.

All of them quickly crossed the room and headed for the exit. They were almost outside, almost to help.

Charlie made it to the door first and pushed it open. Fresh air hit their lungs. It felt amazing.

Mrs. Bucket told Willy and her husband to sit down and rest. Her and Charlie were not hurt, so they could go get help. They went to the first house they saw and knocked on the door. An older woman opened it, confused as to why anyone was at her door so late. The Buckets hadn't realized it was almost midnight. It hadn't even crossed their minds that it might be late.

The woman was nice enough to allow them to use her phone. Mrs. Bucket called the police and an ambulance.

Within 10 minutes several police cars and 2 ambulances showed up. All the commotion happening around the factory also drew in paparazzi. As Willy was being rolled into an ambulance, he saw a camera flash. Normally that would bother him, but it seemed like nothing after the day he suffered through.

The doctors confirmed that Willy had a broken rib. He also suffered from a sprained wrist and a fractured nose. Mr. Bucket had started going into shock and was required to stay in the hospital for a couple days.

The grandparents were indeed worried when no one showed up after an hour or so, but were unable to call for help.

The police found Jake's body, and since it was in self defense, Willy didn't face any consequences for killing him.

As it turns out, Jake was released from the mental hospital a little over a year ago. He had displayed violent tendencies in the past, but his doctors released him due to pressures from the father.

John Clayton tried his best to press charges for his son's death, but it wouldn't stand in court. He himself died only a month after his son.

Willy and the Bucket family tried to go back to normal, but had some struggles. All four of them required professional counseling due to nightmares and paranoia. With each other's support, they were each improving.

What happened to them was unspeakably terrible, but one good thing did come out of it. The family had never felt closer to each other and more thankful to be together.