The crowds had gathered around the locked gates of the old factory. Charlie glanced down at his watch, it was 7:59am, one minute to go until he would finally appear after all those years. Grandpa Joe held his hand tightly, trying to not get lost in the sea of the crowds that now swarmed them. They all waited eagerly for the man to arrive. Charlie grinned with delight as the large wooden doors slowly creaked open. He clutched the golden ticket tightly, keeping it close to his chest and away from the desperate people who would kill to experience what he was about to. A shadow moved in the darkness beyond the doorway, slowing stepping out into the light. A man dressed it a top hat and deep purple suit.

"Wonka" Charlie whispered under his breath. The guards approached ushering forward the chosen children through the gate with their single guardian. The man stood smiling a smile that was as white as it was wide. He stepped up towards the small makeshift stage. He towered over all of the chosen ones, and the pulsating crowd.

"Welcome children" He spoke. "You are the chosen ones, the ones that will have what all those behind you only could dream to experience." He stepped down off the stage and moved towards them, his long black cane tapped the ground as he called out each of the chosen by their name. The silver of the steel handle sparkled in the sunlight. He stood in front of the first child with his hand outstretched in warm welcome. The echoes of the crowd almost drowned out his words, they only became louder as he made his way along the line speaking to each of them, Charlie and Grampa Joe were the last.

"Augustus Gloop, Welcome." His words were kind as he spoke to the large blond child who stood next to Charlie. The cane tapped the ground again as Wonka stepped before him. Charlie felt his heart pounding in his chest, he was bustling inside for this moment. He was so glad that it was finally here that his smile could not capture the joy, instead it felt disfigured.

"And finally, dear Charlie. I know that you, of all the others will have the most wonderful time here. Welcome." He shook the strange, kind man's hand all the while watching the cane from the corner of his eye. Wonka looked up towards the rest of the group, his words stretching out to all of them

"Welcome." He paused, raising his hands, "Welcome to the chocolate factory!" he shouted. With hands raised the sky exploded into a sea of coloured explosions and light. The crowd cheered gleefully, almost in a craze. With a dash Charlie snatched the walking cane from Wonka, smashing the World Famous Chocolatier across the face, rendering him unconscious. A splatter of warm blood sprayed across the boy's grinning face. It was a mix of rage and crazed joy that radiated from Charlie. He swung the cane again with an engaged strength and brought it down again on the crumbled purple mass that was Wonka. Again and again, with each swing brought more crimson liquid raining down on the boy. The others stood in silence, even the guards were unsure how to react. The crowd behind the gates were pushing up against the steel in waves. With the blood stained handle in hand, Charlie ran to the stage and yelled into the microphone.

"Take and eat your fill." He challenged the crowd. They roared, pushing down the gates, trampling the guards underfoot,and swarming towards the small group. Charlie raised his fist, clutching the cane as he charged through the factory's doorway. He was followed firstly by the small group who succumbed to Charlie's insanity, purged on by the screams of the crowd that now swarming through the doorway following their commander. The boy with the golden ticket led them into a war to taste the forbidden, charging through the open doorway into the shadowy depths of the chocolate factory.

After the last of the crowds had entered, all that remained were footprints in the crimson syrup that lead from a trampled, blood stained purple mass, down into the most wonderful place on earth.

It was through this single act that the ancient prophecy had been fulfilled, announcing with it the dawn of a new and dreadful era. For it was once written:

There will come a day when the sky is colored brightly,

a young one shall mark a time of war and an age of temptation.