The clock in my kitchen said 6:45 PM. I was late. I was so engrossed in my plans for the night-rehearsing them over and over again in my head I had barely touched my plate. I had planned to be somewhere a certain time and was already off to bad start.

I scarfed down as many bites as I could and grabbed my car keys and hoodie on my way out the door still half-chewing and half-choking on the food.

It was cold and drizzling as I pulled out of my driveway. This was it. The night I finally went to that abandoned factory on the hill.

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It was a pleasant thriving factory about thirty years ago. People came from far and wide to gawk and take pictures. There were no more tours at that point since several kids who won a contest were either maimed or killed in very "unpleasant" circumstances. The factory itself was more like a big, ugly,pastel,giant candy spewing machine. Like some gaudy monstrosity that vomited its shitty sugary essence all over the town.

That machine,however unsightly, boosted the local economy tremendously and many livelihoods were connected by several degrees if not outright to Wonkas Candy Co. Hundreds of trucks would come daily and leave fully weighed down for markets all across the country. It really was amazing how much product was shipped in a twenty four hour period. Almost inhuman.

I'd heard the rumors, we all had. Supposedly there were strange little people or creatures who toiled tirelessly in the machine day and night. Rumors of who they were and what they ate (children) and even what they actually did to the candy. Was it strange creature droppings mixed in the recipe that made Everlasting Gobstoppers last so long? What about the vibrant coatings on Snurples? Did the little devils have luminescent piss they happily leaned over and added to the brew? What made it worse is that the candy really was good and most people had at least a few pieces a week. It was like trying to stop drinking sodas or coffee. Most people just could not do it. You would be chewing on a FluzzyFarfel half enjoying it and half hating yourself for being weak minded.

The ingredients and the rumor that the creatures ate little children (especially those that asked for them several times in front of a mirror) were in fact actually childish. What actually did scare everyone including grown ups was the occasional sighting. A creature would walk by a window or close a door. You might catch a peek of them on the roof of the factory doing maintenance. Nobody ever got enough of a look for a detailed description and often it was so quick you weren't even sure you saw it. But you did. A small dark oddly colored blur and you would be left trying to process what the hell that was. It was kind of an accepted but not really discussed open secret among the town. There would be a sighting, the rumors and gossip would start anew and then about a week later everyone went back to their normal routine.

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It was completely dark now and the headlights lit up the factory gates. Some youths had already broken the lock some time ago and one gate was rusted half open. I shut off the car and grabbed my backpack and flashlight and stepped out. It was colder and the drizzle was now rain. The hoodie was a good choice and I was nice and warm.

The guy who built this place, Wonka, clearly had some issues. More than likely undiagnosed. He built a huge staircase leading up to the front doors of the factory. I was halfway up this when I heard a whisper. And then laughing. At least I think that is what I heard. I paused for several minutes not moving and not breathing. Soon all I could hear was the pounding of my pulse in my ears over the sound of the rain and continued up.

"If you can read this you are fucking gay" and "Todds mom sucked my dick" were spraypainted in two different colors across the front doors. There was other graffiti there, a lot actually and I had a few laughs at some of the more clever ones. _____________________________ The door was scarred by scratches, dents, dings and gouges but still held strong and locked all these years. The owner may have been crazy but he was not an idiot and flew in the best construction and engineering crews from all over the world. He could afford it. The crew would start work on one piece of the project and then another crew would finish it while the first crew started somewhere else. Other new crews would come in and add or modify. Even more crews were hired to come in and do the same. Compartmentalization. Each crew worked on enough to know what they were building or at least they though they knew what they were building.

Whoever designed or built the doors completed a marvel. The doors were clearly designed to keep things out and to keep things in. Even local demo companies could not knock down the doors and the concrete walls on each side were so well reinforced and so thick to blast a hole in them might seriously damage the building. The bank that now owned it would have none of that as it was still a large well built structure on a huge piece of land that was worth tons of money. Better to leave it up. The bank had no choice really as nobody wanted to develop haunted or cursed land.

I open the backpack and feel around until my hand hits something metal and pull it out. It is a key chain with three very distinct and special keys.

......To be continued ....maybe