Oompa Loompa Takeover

Chapter 6

VI

Dazed and frenzied, Miles stumbled through another hallway. Everything was messed up. When he'd imagined the inside of Willy Wonka's factory, he'd thought it'd be pretty straightforward. Concrete, machines, conveyor belts and packages. I mean, it was a factory wasn't it?

But no, of course it wouldn't be that simple. This was Willy Wonka after all.

So far he'd seen nothing that even looked like a factory. The first door he'd come too had been at the end of a black and white checkered room that got smaller the farther you went. He'd squeezed through that, only to find himself in a round blue room with a doorway up in the ceiling. Miles thought he was going to need a grapple hook like Batman before he was going to get up there until suddenly, he figured out that by walking on the floor like a hamster would in a wheel, the room turned until the door was right beneath his feet.

How long ago that had been, he had no way of knowing, the place was like a maze and he'd gone through all manner of doors and still gotten nowhere.

The door in front of him at the moment had a giant keyhole and a sign on it that stated boldly: The Chocolate Room.

Miles, breathing hard from all his running, bent down and peered through the 12 inch keyhole. Before him was lush green grass that spread over soft sloping hills. Candy cane trees and fondant flowers dotted the whole landscape as it declined into a beautiful brown river of chocolate that shone and sparkled as it flowed peacefully by.

Such beauty felt at gross odds to the horrors that Miles had just seen. His heart sick, he made to rise. He had to pass through there. To find what, he wasn't sure. But there had to be something, something at the heart of the factory that he could destroy. Something that would make it possible for him to avenge his mother and...Miles took a shaky breath, pushing back any tears that threatened. He'd mourn Gerald when and if there was time.

He was about to open the door when he heard the sound of muffled cries. He shot back down and pressed his face to the keyhole once more.

No. It was impossible.

Across the scenery, following the small peppermint candy gravel path was a group of Oompa Loompas. And up in the air, being carried by them, was Gerald.

He was tied up with the strongest binder there was, Strawberry Twizzler ropes, his mouth gagged by a dirty rag. His face and all the exposed skin Miles could see of his was battered and covered in red welts that were quickly turning purple.

He's not dead! Miles could have cried.

Why wasn't he though? Miles shook the thought away, he'd figure that out later, after he'd rescued his friend. He pushed the door open slowly and crept out into the grass, his Glock firmly grasped between his hands.

"Oom-pa Loom-pa Doompity Doo," The group that was holding Gerald began singing. "I'm a-fraid it's all over for you."

Not if I have anything to say about it. Miles thought as he did his best to be stealthy and make a steady gain on the O.L. Gerald, though he could have spotted Miles from his aerial perch, was too busy thrashing around and screaming to notice.

There were eight in the group. Miles was confident he could take out at least two before they were able to train their weapons on him. He set his feet apart, ready to run for cover when he'd need it.

"Oom-pa Loom-pa doompi—"

CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!

The sound of gunshot echoed loud in the large domed room as one Oompa Loompa was shot in the neck, another in the leg. Gerald was dumped unceremoniously to the ground as the O.L. pulled their guns out and fired back at Miles. Miles dived behind a giant peppermint tree trunk and hunkered down as their infamous butterscotch shatter bullets whizzed by. Whatever they'd shot at Gerald, probably non-lethal gumball slugs, they were not sparing on him.

He cried out as one of them blew through the bark of the tree and sharp fragments of both peppermint and butterscotch exploded, sinking themselves into his skin like shards of glass. Trying to ignore the pain, Miles whipped around the other side and sent a couple shots at the creatures. His arm was shaking too hard and he missed them completely. He did however hit a glass tube that was sucking up the warm liquid chocolate from the river, causing it to shatter and send chocolate gushing out onto the Oompa Loompas. Miles took a chance and dived into the open for a clean shot, managing to hit one of them in the shoulder. He trained his sight on one's head when--

Click, click.

He was out of bullets. Miles's eyes widened. Idiot, he cursed himself. He'd forgotten to reload when he was behind cover.

One of the Oompa Loompas had already recovered enough to get Miles in his sites.

Just when he thought he was done for, a loud cry resonated throughout the room. Everyone looked up to see a large figure sliding down one of the glass tubes that sloped down into the river at a 45 degree angle. The man, using a huge chunk of what appeared to be toffee for a makeshift skateboard, began spraying the O.L. with ammunition.

They scattered in an attempt to survive, the one about to kill Miles abandoning his weapon and diving towards the underbrush for cover. Miles took off in a run, his hands shoving a new clip into his gun. Who or whatever the stranger was, they were going to shoot Gerald if they weren't careful. Miles had to get him free and away from this madness.

Miles was vaguely aware of the tattered, hulking figure leaping off the glass tube and somersaulting onto the grass. As soon as the man slowed, he swung his rifle out and hit an unsuspecting O.L square in the chest, launching it into the chocolate river with a splash. One Oompa Loompa launched itself at the man in an attempt to pry his rifle away. The man only let loose a savage roar as he stood, lifting the rifle and the Oompa Loompa holding onto it, and slamming both into the ground.

Miles slowed only long enough to kick one of the injured O.L. that was attempting to rise and reach a gun before he rushed to Gerald and pulled the rag from his mouth.

"Dude! Get me out of this stuff!" Gerald pleaded.

Miles pulled a knife from his leg and hacked as good as he could through the sticky Twizzler vines that were wrapped all around his friend. "Thank god..." Gerald muttered as his hands were freed and he began to pull himself from the candy.

Miles stopped with the vines then and watched, mesmerized, as the big man that had saved them lifted one of the remaining Oompa Loompas over his head, and with a roar brought it down on his knee. Miles cringed at the crack of bones before the O.L., now completely limp, was dropped to the ground. The big man was quick then to regain possession of his rifle. Miles's eyes widened as he directed it at them. But he did not fire. "What the fuck?" He exclaimed instead, looking at them with abhorrence. "What the hell's going on here?"

"We—we're not Oompa Loompas! We're human!" Miles stuttered, his hands coming up.

The man's dark eyes scrutinized them for only a moment longer before he scanned the room. "Fine. If you two geniuses wanna live to see tomorrow, I suggest you get off your butts and follow me. More of them will be here any minute." Without waiting for them, the man turned and took off across the candy landscape.

Gerald was now free and Miles took him by the hand and pulled him up. Miles pointed after the quickly departing man. Gerald responded by shrugging and scooping up one of the Oompa Loompa's fallen weapons.

They took off in pursuit.