yeah, the title.
not saying that Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory isn't already a horror thing, cause I mean... it is... This was inspired by Wonky Willy, on YouTube. It's really interesting and has amazing special effects, you should really wa...
A/N : CHILD TORTURE This is a short rushed chapter which I'll be editing soon, so please don't say it's shitty I'm trying my best 😅 also idk if Mikes mum is called Doris or Ethel I've seen it both ways so I ✨ chose ✨
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"W-what did you do to him?"
Ethel Teavee looked down to her minature son who was strapped by his wrists and ankles with brown leather belts, tightened to the point his hands were bloated and purple. Long metal bars twisted and turned and currently he was stuck between two at the back. Ethel recognised this machine as a Taffy Puller, since she had seen one on a school trip during high school, with it's silver metal sticks sticking out and turning over the young screaming boys folding body. He was so loud that his gibberish yelling covered the noise of his bones snapping and nerves tearing. It was just like him to be loud, especially when he was watching his decades old westerns on TV, screaming 'get him!' and 'die! Die! Die!' But never had she heard him shout like this. Neither had she heard him so high pitched. His voice about ten notches higher than it was. She wasn't sure how exactly he could produce such a deafeningly loud and high pitched squeak, but then again she didn't know how her son had gotten to his height of a few center meters.
Mike gurgled out a choking sob as his leg slowly and antagonizingly crunched over a stick of metal. The metal turned and it brought his leg with him. He screamed as the bones and nerves tore away on his legs. The machine stopped abruptly like everytime he was damaged, and he took the chance to scream out for his mommy. She couldn't do a thing, though, since the glass wall separating them was unbreakable, no matter how hard she hit.
Mike's leg was curving in on itself, and his knee had skin dipping right into it. The tiny little doll like figure wailed and the minute another tear slid down his face, an Oompa Loompa operating the machine started to rev it up again.
Mrs Teavee threatened that she would call the police, but she doubted he, or it, could hear her. Plus, there wasn't any phone nearby. There was really nothing to help her at all. So she just watched as her little babies arms began to be pulled to impossible lengths and curve over a branch of metal. His arm was now shapes like a cresent moon and quite obviously, broken. The machine stopped once more and an observing Oompa Loompa nodded to the one controlling the puller. Next, the other boys leg was pulled to fit his other legs length and shape. The next was the other arm. A loud crunch echoed around Ethel and she just cried. Like she always did.
The watching Oompa Loompa nodded once more, holding up a thumb nonchalantly. Teavee banged on the plexiglass wall as a part of her motherly instincts. She needed to help her baby any way she could. But she knew she couldn't. Not in this factory. Or torture chamber she supposed.
A third metal bar beneath Mike, the same one he had been laying on, began to rise up slowly, digging into his back. Mike screamed at his mother to help, calling her name's and crying out his eyes. The Metal bar kept on pushing into his back, his stomach rising. One last stream of tears and silent scream, and the sounds of crunching and cracking filled the room. Just like fire, Ethel thought.
The machine could finally work faster without the bones jamming it's process. It turned over itself, the tiny miniscule body cracking and grinding into metal. His legs arched over and tore apart, revealing bone and muscle and tissue and blood. Arms tore and flapped around the bloody mess, falling to the floor in a tiny puddle. His body burst as it fell into the pullers middle, tiny parts of thin flesh spreading out at every direction. Mrs Teavee screamed at her bloody mess of a son, banging on glass and cursing in every language she knew, just so she could get her point across. A little Oompa Loompa walked across the room with a vacuum like object, pointing it towards the bone and blood scattered on the floor. Practically dust. The vacuum sucked it right up and filled a tiny jar in its middle. Then, all three working Oompa Loompa's calmly walked out, not even flinching at Ethel's deafening cries.
Ethel banged her head against the glass, and before one final weak hit she felt something rap on her shoulder. She turned around, eyes completely blurred so she couldn't see a thing. She stayed quiet this time though. If they were going to kill her first she might as well give up on screaming. A small figure, she guessed an Oompa Loompa, opened the plexiglass with a passworded lock she hadn't noticed. It was a small pad at the side with tiny numbered buttons. Must've been the tears blocking her vision, she assumed. Maybe that was why she hadn't noticed it. Once the glass frame disappeared into the ceiling, she was pushed in and she fell right into a tiny left over bit of bone of her son. She yelped and grabbed at the sharp crunched up bones stabbing into her face. Tears flowed once again, staring at all that was left of her son. The same Oompa Loompa behind her followed her in calmly. He carried a large silver machine behind him like a pulley. Ethel would've assumed they weren't strong because of their small size, but she guessed wrong. She rubbed at her eyes and they widened at the sight of the thing.
The Oompa Loompa closed the glass wall and placed the Machine right next to the identicle other taffy puller. Only this one was much bigger. Fit for pulling large amounts of taffy. Large enough just for her.
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