Longest chapter yet coming up, so brace yourselves! Over 3000 words this one, but I don't think it will keep this record. Been a while since I posted the last chapter, I know, but exams have been pretty rough this week and as much as I absolutely love this story, my future is my first priority, so thanks for being patient. Thanks again to those who have reviewed, followed, and favourited!

Oleander Grimm: That's perfect. When I know I can create that effect it just warms me up, I can't deny that I was really trying my absolute hardest to create an upsetting chapter, but it's nice to know my effort paid off! Thanks so much!

Dylan: Bitter-sweet I'd say. I'd go into detail but this chapter actually does that for me.

Guest: I can see your confusion. The chapter was originally named 'And That's Final' because it was a quote from Grandpa Joe in the chapter, it wasn't because it was the last chapter. I understood the confusion and changed the chapter name, I hope it didn't catch out anyone else. Sorry about that!

LuckyDuck932: Bill will play a very significant role in this story to come, so yes, he will continue to appear. I've always been a fan of the story since I was a little kid, so I've got quite a large interest in it. I've always thought about different ways the children could be portrayed, how the entire could be portrayed in fact, and so I decided it was time to stop fantasizing and put it down on paper. I'm very glad you and many others enjoy it too! As for Mike, read below:

OK! So, I previously said Violet was the most changed character from any other source of media. I did initially think that, UNTIL I wrote this chapter. Yes, Mike does make his debut here, and I know a lot of people have been excited to see him, but he's certainly, in my opinion, the most changed from his counterparts in other media, BY FAR! I got a bit worried writing this chapter, just because of the difference with Mike, but if I didn't go through with it I'd regret it, I know it. Hopefully you guys will like the character just as much as I do. I think I've over hyped this a bit now...oops.

Oh and by the way, just to clear things up, I don't usually write with accents. If a character has an accent and they're speaking, it's very rare I'll change the writing style to fit that accent. I did do it with Bill a couple of chapters ago, but I regretted doing that because I just didn't think it worked. A lot of characters, including ones in this chapter, are from different places, but an accent won't be strongly shown because I don't like incorporating accents into my writing style. I just thought I'd get that out of the way to avoid confusion.

Anyway, here it is, Chapter 11:

"Alright then, you can start tommorow."

Charlie remembered these words clear as day as he pranced home to the junkyard that night. He couldn't wait for work the next day, as evident by his glowing smile. Bill had gone slightly into more detail on what the job required before Charlie had left with his Grandpa. Stacking shelves, sweeping the floor, even working on the till in Bill's absence. Charlie knew how to do maths, whilst Grandpa Joe couldn't afford for Charlie to go to school, he ensured he still got his education. Five days a week Joseph would sit down with his Grandson and teach him basic maths, English, and especially History, one of Joseph's favourite subjects to teach. Charlie actually quite enjoyed it, I mean, it was a contrast to what he usually did...which was nothing...

Upon hearing Charlie's exciting news, Grandma Georgina was spurred into her own stories, explaining to Charlie about her own jobs. "Ooh...I'll tell you my first job" she started every sentence in her story with. It seemed that she had atleast six first careers, as far as her story was concerned, each as nonsensical as the last. Charlie was sure she even repeated HIS story. The boy listened anyway, smiling at the points he had to and just showing general interest.

Joseph just sat back, on a heap of rubbish, watching the two conversate. He watched Charlie, thinking about the events that had happened not too long ago, the ones that Charlie had seemingly forgotten about. Joe had never expected this from the boy. All of these years, he believed Charlie to be happy, has it all just been a facade? Of course it has been, how stupid could Joe have been? Charlie would have to be an idiot to not understand the horrors of his life, and an idiot he certainly isn't. Charlie knew just as well as Joseph did. He knew that his grandmother who had grasped him into one of her senseless stories would soon be gone. He knew that his Grandpa Joe would follow soon behind her. And then, himself. This was all Joseph could think about as he layed on a rotten pile of rubbish that night, attempting to go to sleep. He couldn't rid of those nightmarish thoughts of his grandson being terrified and alone, without the company of his grandparents, just waiting to die himself.

These thoughts continued into the next morning, as he saw his grandson merrily skip away, but not before giving a hug to his grandmother and Grandpa Joe himself.

"Have a good day at work" Joseph smiled.

"Will do Grandpa!" beemed Charlie, before he disapeared into the streets.

It was now that Grandpa Joe wanted a Golden Ticket just as much as Charlie.

"We need to get you a shower lad!" were some of the first words Bill spoke as Charlie entered the sweet shop for his first day at work, "You can't be wandering around this shop looking like that, you'll drive off customers. Plus, no offense, but you blooming stink."

Charlie just laughed, as did Bill, but he still made it known he wasn't joking. He lead Charlie into the back and into his bathroom, told him how to work the shower, and then left him with some fresh clothes before leaving to continue his duties.

Charlie looked around the room he was in, and he was amazed. It was clean and pearly white, it almost hurt his eyes, Charlie had never seen anything look so dazzling in his entire life. As Charlie pushed off his shoes and pulled off his socks, he suddenly felt the cold of the tiles below him on the soles of his feet, making him jump ever so slightly. The shower itself was the best feeling Charlie had ever had in his life, times by a hundred. He was so hypnotised by the feeling in fact, that Bill had to bang on the door and tell him to hurry up. Charlie finished up in the shower, ensuring to follow Bill's instructions of how to wash, before slipping on the clothing Bill had left for Charlie. As he was slipping this fresh wear on, he wondered how Bill had clothes in Charlie's size.

"Charlie! Come on lad!" Bill shouted again with another bang on the door.

"Sorry! I'm coming!" Charlie replied, pulling on the rest of his clothes quickly and running out, accidentally bumping into Bill.

"Watch where you're going Charlie!" Bill laughed, before taking a step back and examining the boy, "Bloody hell, it was hard to believe there was a little lad under all that dirt!"

Charlie smiled, he noticed how different he looked now. His hair was as long and scraggy as usual, but it was clearly blonde now, and was no longer dyed in rubbish. His face was bright and pale white, and he looked a lot more healthy now, despite the purple bags beneath his eyes and the dark and chapped lips. His fresh clothes were still a golden yellow, perhaps Bill had purposely chosen the colours for him to match his old wear. Charlie was again reminded of the question, about where the clothes in his size had came from, but Bill was already talking away before Charlie could ask.

"Come in, let's get you round front, you've got some shelves to stack." Bill gave Charlie a little pat on the back as he moved him through into the front of the shop.

"Bill, why do you have clothes in my size?" Charlie asked.

Bill suddenly paused, looking rather taken back by the question. He gave a rather awkward smile at Charlie, "I'll tell you later, let's just get a day of work done first Charlie, okay?"

"Alright" Charlie responded, hoping he hadn't hurt Bill's feelings. It seemed like a rather touchy topic to him, perhaps he had hoped Charlie never even noticed.

Charlie was directed to a series of rather large boxes, and from what he could see, there were about eleven or so. He looked up at Bill, who looked back down at him.

"They're mostly Wonka Bars, we get a new shipment every day because they sell so fast." Bill spoke up, "And the boxes are quite heavy, so if you need help carting them around just ask me or Arty."

"Arty?" Charlie responded.

"The security guy, it's not his real name but he prefers me to use it." Bill noticed the terror in Charlie's eyes, "Don't worry, he's not an axe murderer, he's just a little scary looking is all."

"I think he doesn't like me." Charlie added.

"And why would he not like you? He doesn't even know who you are."

"I don't know...it's just, how he looks at me."

Bill raised an eyebrow, "Well, in that case, just ask me then, I'll be happy to help."

"Okay, thanks, but I think I'll be alright..." Charlie said, as he looked up at Bill. Suddenly he smiled and gave the big man a hug, causing Bill to flinch backwards in surprise. "Thank you Bill! Thank you so much!"

"Uh, no problem Charlie..." Bill clearly didn't know how to react with the little boy's arms around his stomach. He pondered on whether he should hug him back or not, but Charlie was already off of him and over by the boxes before he could finish his decision.

The hours passed by, and Charlie enjoyed every moment. He enjoyed feeling clean, he enjoyed the odd conversations with Bill, he loved the warmth of the shop, he loved the sights and he loved the idea of getting a Wonka Bar at the end of the day. Bill was right when he had told Charlie about the amount of people who would be coming into the shop, every person from the whole village must have charged in, and they were picking Wonka Bars from the shelves faster than Charlie could stack.

The Security Guard, Arty, was staring at Charlie the entire time, the same way he always did. Charlie was in too good of a mood to let it phase him though, he just continued with the day, knowing how great it was going to be. And it was, by the time the day was finished and the shop was closed, Charlie was ready to open his Wonka Bar.

"You've got no pressure on you this time lad," Bill spoke up, "there's always tommorow if you don't get it today."

With that said, Charlie ripped the Wonka Bar open. It would've been the best thing in the whole world for Charlie to see a bright and shining Golden Ticket there and then, but he didn't, he just saw chocolate. Charlie hid his frown as he turned towards Bill, giving a shrug and croaking "Oh well."

"Like I said, there's always tommorow, it might turn out to be your lucky day." Bill said with a soft and sympathetic smile, "Here, come on, collect your paycheck."

Charlie froze, "What?"

Bill looked up, confused, "What?"

"My paycheck?"

"...Yeah...did you think I wasn't going to pay you?"

"I thought the Wonka Bar was my pay..."

"Charlie...what kind of person would I be if I forced a starving, homeless boy to do a day's full of work and then only payed him with one Wonka Bar at the end of the day?"

Charlie just stood there, perplexed. He was actually getting payed. This was an ACTUAL job.

"Now come on, collect it." Bill repeated, watching Charlie come towards the till. Bill handed him an envelope, with his name written onto it quickly in permanent marker.

"There's thirty pounds in there, and I know it may not seem like mu-"

"THIRTY POUNDS!?" Charlie boomed, "What!? Thirty pounds! Really!?"

"...yes..." Bill didn't know how to react.

"WE'RE RICH!"

"I wouldn't say that..."

"Thank you so much Bill! Thank you so much!"

"Umm, no problem lad..."

"I need to show Grandpa Joe and Grandma Georgina! Thanks Bill, bye!" were Charlie's last words before he zoomed out of the shop, leaving a very bewildered looking Bill in his wake. Charlie couldn't wait to get home and show his Grandpa this money, it would change everything. Thirty pounds? That was enough to feed them for a lifetime! Bread, milk, clean water, heck, maybe even a couple of treats here or there, or another Wonka Bar maybe? The possibilities were endless! Charlie was the happiest he had ever been in his whole, entire life.

"ONE MORE LEFT!"

Oh, how short lived it was.

"IT'S BEEN FOUND! THE FOURTH!"

Charlie stopped his giddy running upon hearing someone shout this. The Golden Tickets...that's what they have to be talking about.

"IT WAS ONLY YESTERDAY THE THIRD WAS FOUND!"

Charlie began running again, the television shop wasn't far away, he needed to see who had won the fourth Golden Ticket. As the wind ran through his bright blonde hair, Charlie began to think about the Golden Tickets. There was just one left now...just one...oh dear.

Like he expected, the television shop window was surrounded again, but without his Grandpa Joe, Charlie could slip between the crowd and make his way to the front. Getting a clear view of the numerous televisions through the window. The Golden Ticket winner themself was no where to be seen, just a reporter facing the camera, stood in front of a very average looking house. It was full of dull brick reds and stone blacks, and sported rather dusty windows that could have done with wiping. It certainly wasn't anything like had been seen with Veruca's home.

"The fourth Golden Ticket is GONE ladies and gentlemen! Found by seventeen year old Michael Tevyson, the lucky finder here in Limerick, Ireland! I guess you truly can call it the luck of the Irish!" spoke the reporter, "And here we have our man now, looking awfully caught off guard..."

Out walked the Golden Ticket winner himself, holding the shiny glittering prize in his hand. The reporter was quite accurate in his last statement, the boy looked surprisingly...surprising. He seemed not to have dressed up at all for the occasion. He wore what looked to have once been a white vest, that stuck to his skinny and bony frame, stained with black as though he had been swimming in a vat of oil. His skin itself looked no different, even that on his face, and he must have been smiling the entire time too because his teeth shared the same dark, oil smudged pattern. On the topic of his face, it certainly was odd. He wasn't funny looking...it was just the expression he wore that was unsettling. Wide eyes that allowed two dark grey eyes to peer over the world, thin eyebrows that looked like spears, a shrivelled up nose, and to top it all off, a wide, beaming smile that stretched ear to ear, displaying a set of yellow gnashers. His hair gave away the same impression too, as it pointed scarily into the air from the top of his head, looking like a dark black pit of spikes. He looked similar to Charlie in weight, but he was far taller and much more lanky, making him look very skeletal. His unsettling facial expression remained as he neared the reporter, holding his Golden Ticket in front of his face as he moved up to the camera.

"And here he is now, Michael Tevyson, the fourth Golden Ticket wi-"

"Thankyou!" Michael shouted excitedly, the smile just growing wider, "But I would very very very much prefer...if you could call me Mike!"

"Umm...ok..." the reporter replied, giving the same reaction to the boy as the audience did. His ideolect was very wierd, filled with dramatic pauses and over pronunciation of words. He was scarily enthusiastic.

"Or...better yet...Doctor T.V.! It's a new name I've been whizzing around...rolls off the tongue I think, very well...very very well...try it..."

"Umm...Doctor T.V.? That's a...cool name..."

"Yes! Very much so..."

"Why the Doctor title though...can I ask?"

"You can ask if you'd like..." Mike exclaimed loudly, "It's because I'm a Doctor! Silly!"

Mike started to laugh hysterically, as though what he had just said was the epitome of jokes. His laugh was loud, enthusiastic, sinister, and went on for all too long. He stopped suddenly, wiping the saliva that had spewed up onto his lips with his oil coated hand, and just stared at the interviewer.

"Is there anything else you would like to ask myself, kind sir?"

Charlie was very unsettled where he stood. The boy had done nothing wrong but, how he acted, how he looked, it just sent a shiver down Charlie's spine. It was moments like these he wished he could grab his Grandpa Joe's hand, or look to him for comfort, but instead he was there all by himself. If Charlie did turn around though, if his eyes weren't so unfortunately locked onto the television screen, he would see that everyone else shared his expression.

"I'm sure that the entire world wants to know, how you won the Golden Ticket..." the reporter asked.

"Oh...yes...very interesting story...very very interesting...I'll tell you inside! Would you like to come in? My parents are waiting indoors for you, I'm sure they'd be absolutely delighted to meet you all!"

Without awaiting an answer, Mike turned his back to the cameras and moved inside, quietly chuckling to himself. The reporter turned to the camera and beckoned it to follow, as did multiple other interviewers and camera crews.

"Welcome to the inside of my parent's home!" Mike proclaimed as he walked into what looked like a relatively normal looking living room.

"Your parents home?" asked one of the reporters, "Do you live elsewhere?"

"I do indeed..." Mike smiled, "Here, come, follow me...I'll lead you to my own domain!"

Mike moved onwards, forcing all of the reporters and their camera men to continue moving again. As they were moving, a reporter decided to begin asking questions then.

"What you're wearing, I can't help but say, doesn't look very much like you prepared for this interview."

"Ah! That's because I didn't. You caught me quite off guard I must say...I was in the middle of an invention..."

"An invention? You invent things?" asked another reporter.

"Oh yes, I find it an absolutely wonderful hobby!"

Charlie smiled. He loved to invent things too, well, not practically, more so in his head. If Charlie had the money, he'd love to put the things he created in his mind to work with a box of tools and the equipment needed. He and Mike seemed to have something in common, although that wasn't something Charlie enjoyed acknowledging.

"And what kind of things do you invent?"

"Oh...you'll soon see."

"Is that what you want to grow up to be? An inventor?"

"Actually...no. It's a hobby but not a line of work in my own opinion. I hope to join the army soon, put my expertise to work as a war doctor."

The crowd gave warm sounds, as did the reporters, even Charlie smiled a little. Mike may look weird, and act overly strange, but it seemed that there was a decent boy under that creepy facade. He wanted to join the army, fight for what he knew was right, help save the lives of dying soldiers. As lovely as it sounded, Charlie didn't like imagining being a patient to Doctor T.V.

"Your expertise?"

"Yes, I take quite a large interest in Biology as well...the human body...what an interesting thing...very...very interesting..."

Mike's eyes widened with a certain sense of desire, and the reporters all just paused in place, in silence. Mike suddenly turned to look at them, gave a quick smirk, before continuing onwards.

The group came to a door, an old, pale white door, looking nothing out of the ordinary. It was just a door...why did it unsettle Charlie so much? Mike reached out his hand and wrapped it around the door handle, opening the door with a creak, and revealing a set of stairs leading into darkness.

"What's down there?" gulped a reporter.

"Oh..." spoke Mike, a rather chilling tone on display, "you'll see..."

Mike slowly moved forward, each footstep causing the rotting wooden steps to creak loudly below him. His head turned sideways over his shoulder to look at the reporters behind him, and they froze under his glare.

"These stairs are a little...rickety...mind your step..."

A couple of nervous nods were given, before Mike turned back around and continued. The reporters continued after him with a much slower pace now, all looking at each other with puzzled and worried expressions. As they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, they were plunged into a hallway equally as dark. The only source of light came from a red neon sign at the end of the hallway, perched just above two double doors, that read 'Enter'.

"Let's do as the sign tells..." grinned Mike as he continued forward.

"Is this...what's this?" asked a reporter.

Mike waited until he reached the double doors before turning around to face the reporter who asked him the question.

"This..." Mike laughed, "This is MY home! My parents are waiting right inside here..."

Mike leaned in towards one of the reporters, scarily close, his breath rippling on the skin of their face.

"Let's go and greet them!"

Mike turned back towards the two doors, before placing a hand on either one of them, and pushing them open. Mike charged into the room with excitement, the cameras following closely behind him.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."

The crowd around Charlie gasped, even Charlie felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Welcome to the land of wonder..."

The room was a dark, mechanical red. A large space that looked small and clausterphobic, constructed from harsh concrete.

"A place just as magical as Wonka's..."

Within the room stood colossal iron contraptions, fitted withspikes, drills, blades, large cogs, wires, screws and bolts, and worst of all, a place for a human being to fit inside.

"A place where Golden Tickets aren't needed for a tour..."

These creations were coated in oil, rust and sweat, and the stubborn red lighting of the room masked whatever else could be splattered over them.

"What is this?"

Mike turned around, his eyes larger, his grin wider, his true form now showing through the evil glint in his eye.

"This..." Mike echoed, "is Doctor T.V.'s Factory of Pain!"