Abberline *with a sneer*  You are a fool, you choose your precious little family instead of all the power I could invest you with.  I got hold of your wife before and I can do it again, I can get better servants than that idiot *points to Nate* and I will not fail again.  *thinks for a while.*  I might as well tell you because you amuse me.  You want to know why I chose him.  *indicates himself*  Not because of this body, but because of his mind.  Now, I have to say that I cannot enter your mind because you guard it well, but his mind was open.  Seems that these little family tragedies and this substance abuse he's been indulging in can do some harm to a mind, especially if it is already sensitive enough and has the gift of dreaming, which he is not quite aware of.  He does not want to know what he should.  Most of these damned dreamers are able to resist an attack, but I felt immediately that he couldn't.  The stronger will prevail.  He had not a chance against me, the fool.  Think about it.  The family you take a joy in made him weak and useless.

Willy:  His family didn’t make him weak.  He just couldn't handle a family yet.  No family can destroy you, no matter which way you put it.  The fact that Abberline suffered such tragedies is because he wasn't able to handle it.  As for my wife, you'll never lay a hand on her … ever.  I'd rather kill myself then see her get hurt.  When you captured her the first time, you have no idea of the anger that overtook me.  And I felt like a fool.  I let you … you worthless bastard … get her.  *eyes tear up remembering Madame, wipes them away quickly*  It will NEVER happen again.

Abberline:  Just remember that there may come a day your protection will not be enough.  He was warned but did not heed, and his wife and newborn child perished.  Now you have been warned.  *backs away from the bars and laughs.*  So what it is that you really want from me?

Willy:  My protection will be enough for my family, you will leave them alone.  *swallows, sighs*  I want to know what the process is.  What do you do after you've got the heart, soul, and blood?  Do you sacrifice them all?  To whom?

Abberline:  They will be used to provide me with what I need.  I don't think I will share with you all my secrets since you so stubbornly refuse to cooperate.  Say goodbye to the brat and his mother and father, and the gypsy.  *sits down on the mattress.*  That's all you need to know.  *They both hear a door banging in the corridor.*  That will be the Commander, I suppose.  Why don't you go and bother her instead.  *leans against the wall and closes his eyes.*

Willy *looks at door, then back at Abberline*  We'll be saying goodbye to you in time.  This I promise on my mothers grave.  *pauses, then walks away, out door, sees Commader, tips hat*  Portsmith, how are you this fine day?  *acts as if nothing is wrong*

Portsmith *beaming*  Why, Mr. Wonka, it's always such a pleasure to meet you.  Can I be of any assist?

Willy *grins*  Why yes actually, I was wondering … could you possibly tell me what you plan to do with the possessed Abberline?  You couldn't actually be keeping him in there forever now, could you?  *gives a handsome smile*

Portsmith:  Oh, Mr. Wonka … *takes a look around to be certain that no one can hear her.*  Frankly, I don't know what to do with … that … that ... creep.  If I only could get my soul box back from those bl … er ... from whoever it is who has it now, I would certainly find a way.  Um … would you like a cup of coffee in my office?  How is your charming wife?

Willy:  What a shame.  I hope you can get Abberline back safely!  *smiles warmly*  As for my wife, she's just fine.  Coming along heathy.  We're looking forward to the children.  I should be getting home to her now.  *checks pocket watch*  It's getting a bit late, she'll be wondering where I am.  Do me a favor, huh?  *places hand on Portsmith’s shoulder*  Keep me up-to-date on Abberline, will ya?  I have concern, and I would love to know what’s going on, ok?  *winks, handsome smile*

Portsmith:  Of course, Mr. Wonka, of course!  Maybe some other time then, when you have better time.  I will personally see to it that you get all the information you need.  My best regards to the Madame.  *looks after Willy as he goes out, says to herself*  Now, if all the citizens of Deppville were like that, this would be a good place to live in.  How on earth did Manouche manage to worm herself into the factory …

At the Wonkas’ factory:

Willy *walks into the master bedroom, Madame sound asleep, sits on the side of the bed, takes off shoes, hat, coat, throws everything on the floor, sighs, covers head in hands, turns and sees the back of Madame, moves and kisses her forehead*

Madame *stirs, turns, looking up at Willy*  Wha? ... Where have you been all night?  It's late, sweety ...

Willy:  I took a nice long walk, ran into Portsmith on the way.  Ended up having a quick conversation with her.  *smiles, look of worry that he can’t hide in his eyes*

Madame *smoothes hand over his face*  What’s bugging you, Willy?  I can see it in your eyes ...

Willy *smile fades, thinks of what Abberline said ..."That beautiful wife of yours, she has a spirit I could use"...  lays his head down on her stomach, closing eyes, listening for sounds from his children*

Madame *runs fingers through his hair, picks up his head*  Baby, what’s wrong with you?

Willy *swallows hard, slight smile*  Can you make me a promise, Kim?  *Madame, looking into his eyes, makes no movement*  Promise me you'll stay in the factory as much as possible okay?  I just want you and the twins to be safe.  They'll be here soon enough ...

Madame:  You went and talked to the possessed Abberline, didn’t you?

Willy:  Damn … nothing gets by you.

Madame *sits up*  William Wonka ... why did you do that?

Willy *takes her hands in his*  I had unanswered questions love, please, you have nothing to be concerned about.

Madame:  So I'm not supposed to be when you come home and say "Stay in the factory"?

Willy *sighs, looks at her hands*  It’s just ... he said a few things ... like he was ... gonna go after you again ...

Madame *swallows*  For the twins ...  *Willy nods*  Willy, don't worry.  I know you'll never let anything happen to me or the children, right?

Willy:  On mom's grave I won't!

Madame:  Then I know we'll be fine, okay?

Willy *smiles*  Okay...

Madame *smiles, kisses him*  Now come on, get dressed, you need sleep.  *Willy nods, gets up, finishes getting dressed, gets into bed, Madame in his arms, protecting her, falls asleep*

On The Apparition:

Kat *turning away*  And if I don't ... I mean why is it that Abberline can even do this … the blood, heart, soul … and no one has to die??

Ama:  Abberline is a dreamer, and he only seeks his rightful mortal life.  What Marchand is after comes at a much higher price.  *Concern crosses Ama's face; she stares at Kat intently*  Kat, you mustn't!  You have to remember what he is, not what you wish him to be.

Kat *turns angered*  He's desperate.  Maybe if somehow given time … other options … everything could be different.

Ama *sighs*  Kat, don't ...

Kat:  How can I not?  After all, it's thanks to you I now know who he is.

Ama *sadly*  You realize that you're now risking much more than three lives.  *Whispers*  Remember, his blood still flows in your veins.  *Ama fades away to nothing*

Kat *shouts into the empty air*  That's right!!  Why don't ye just spit another riddle at me and vanish off the face of the Earth!!!  That seems te be what yer best at!!!!  *Turns once more, glares at the box.  One last time, goes up on deck, issuing orders to set course for Deppville, mumbling*  There has te be a way …

An Alternative:

Manouche *slowly comes to, tries to remember what happened.  Recalls having gone to The Viper to explore it, as its proud new captain.  Though there would always be things she would miss about her beloved Libertine Trailer, she could tell The Viper was going to suit her quite well.  The day was mild and sunny, the waters calm and bright blue, not a cloud in the sky.  So how had she gone from that tranquility to this – this dark, closed room, she knew not where.  She moans, her eyelids heavy as she tries to pierce the darkness, and she realizes she’s lying on a cold floor.  The air is stuffy, as if the room hadn’t been open for a long time.  She tries to sit up, drops back from an intense wave of nausea; she fears she may throw up.  Then she hears a familiar voice:*

Leader:  Take that glass next to you, drink it.  Hurry, it will make you feel better.

Manouche *still unable to see, though she’s starting to be able to make out shadows, gropes around, feels a glass, nearly knocks it over but grabs it in time.  Holds it up, drinks, and the nausea passes as quickly as it assailed her.*

Leader:  Better?

Manouche *nods, still trying to see*  I – I can’t see ye, but I know all too well who’s addressin ‘me.  Wh-where are we, what happened?

Leader:  Details aren’t so important, Dreamer.  Suffice to say we had a great need to talk to you, and we were pretty certain you wouldn’t come amicably.

Manouche *drains glass, tries to calm her trembling voice*  I can’t imagine what you an’ I would ‘ave t’ discuss.  Ye’d best be gettin’ me back, I’ll be missed …

Leader:  This won’t take long, I promise.  And I think you’ll find it very interesting.  We have been doing a little research, for lack of a better word.  We have found a way around your dilemma … or at least a large part of it.  But it will require some cooperation on your part.

Manouche *frowns*  What dilemma would that be?

Leader *sighs*  The soul box, Dreamer, wake up!  Let’s stop playing so close to the vest and agree that none of us wants to see Marchand take control of the box …

Manouche:  Ye seemed anxious enough t’ help Marchand ‘ave it before.

Leader:  Let’s just say we’ve come to realize the error of our judgment regarding Marchand.  As I was saying, Marchand is not a suitable recipient for the box.  And it would be equally disastrous for that silly Commander Portsmith to possess it.  The box belongs with us, the Guardians.  We’ve kept tabs on it for many years, and it’s time we got it back where it belongs.  The facts are as follows:  your friend’s soul is in the box … Marchand has taken control of your friend’s body, to further his plans.  Portsmith still wants the box back and has just enough knowledge of its workings to make her in some ways the most dangerous of all.  But Marchand’s ownership would mean the end of your town, and everyone in it.  He’s ruthless, he does nothing but use, use, use, until there’s nothing left.  Then he moves on.  If he gains this power, your friends will all die, and your town will become a wasteland.  If you lived to see it, you wouldn’t recognize it.  *pauses*  Now ….. if you’re interested, we have found a way around this tragic outcome.  It’s not perfect, but we think you’ll agree it’s the best choice to be made.

Manouche *eyes growing accustomed to the dark, is now able to make out the Leader, and a few other figures standing near him.  She runs a hand through her hair, swallows*  Right … I- I’m listenin’ …

Leader:  It’s true, for the box to be utilized to its full potential, the owner needs the heart, soul and blood … as you well know by now, that means you, the boy, and his mother.  However, we have found a way around the need for the heart and soul.  We have found that to combine the blood with the spirit of an equal and sympathetic dreamer, we can achieve the same results … and we can free your friend Abberline’s soul, as well.  One simple ritual, and his soul would be returned to his body … and Marchand would be out in the cold.  He would survive for awhile in his natural form, but he would either have to quickly find another body or perish.  But that would be entirely his problem.  He will be so weakened once this is done, he won’t be a threat anymore, to anyone … except the very weak.

Manouche:  B-but ye’d still need me.

Leader:  We would still require your blood, that is correct.

Manouche:  An’ … jus’ who is th’ spirit ye mention?

Leader *hesitates*  After we escaped the island, we returned to Fiji, where we studied hard on what could be done.  Those of us who escaped, that is.  I regret to say that some of the Shadows wound up in the box, along with your friend’s soul.  They’re stuck there for good, I fear.  Abberline, on the other hand, has enough of the dreamer about him that he’ll be able to escape, through this ritual.

Manouche *fear growing*  I don’t give a toss about th’ blasted Shadows.  Why’re ye not tellin’ me??  The SPIRIT, mate … whose is it?

Leader:  I think you know.  Your twin brother.

Manouche:  M-me brother … but … he’s dead …

Leader:  We learned in Fiji how to resurrect his spirit for our needs.  It’s exceedingly powerful.  Combined with your blood, it’ll –

Manouche *whispering, eyes wide*  Th-that’s not possible …

Leader *raises hand, shadowy figures around him disperse slightly; another figure steps forward, taller, head bowed, posture sorrowful.  There’s a glow about it, and as it moves in front of the Shadows, Manouche is able to see its face*

Manouche:  D- Dani …

Leader:  Keep your distance.

Manouche *jumps to her feet, starts toward him*  Dani!  *Leader motions, Shadows rush forward, hold her back.  As she struggles, the figure inclines its head toward her slightly, then steps back, withdraws back into the darkness*

Leader:  You mustn’t have contact with him, not yet.

Manouche *sobs*  Wh-what ‘ave ye done, y’ devils?  This is black magic, this is.  It ain’t possible …

Leader:  What you’re seeing is his spirit, Dreamer, and it’s quite possible, I promise you.  Let me quickly explain your options, and then you can decide.  If you let us combine your blood with your brother’s spirit, thereby allowing us to possess the box once again, here’s what you’ll be doing:  Kat and Raven will be safe forever, as will Abberline.  Marchand will be vanquished, or so weak he’ll no longer be a concern.  Portsmith will recover and go back to being her usual pompous self.  All of Deppville will be left alone, because we Guardians have no need for the resources that your town and its inhabitants would offer someone like Marchand.  We will take the box back to where it belongs, we will resume guarding it … and that’s all we intend to do with it.  Deppville will never see us or the box again.  And here’s something else, an added bonus … you will be reunited with your brother.  It’ll be in the spirit world, but you’ll be together forever.  Though he died as a child, his spirit continued to grow.  He’s your age, it’ll be as if you never parted.  Think of it … one of your fondest wishes coming true …

Manouche *still struggling in the Shadows’ grasp*  But … but h-how do I ….

Leader:  Now, let’s look at the alternative.  You can keep trying to escape Marchand, but eventually he will capture you, as well as Kat and Raven.  You can’t all run from him forever, he’s completely determined and will never stop.  Now that he’s seen time and again the power between you and Raven, in particular, he would never be satisfied with just another’s Romany blood.  And as long as Marchand’s pursuing you, he’ll continue to use others’ bodies to maintain until he gets what he wants.  So other innocents will die because of this.  And chances are, these victims will be people you know.  He’s already thinking once again about your dear sister, your friend Madame Wonka …

Manouche *stops struggling, stares*  Wh-what??  Why would he ….  That’s not true, yer lyin’!

Leader *sighs again, nods at one of the Shadows next to him.  Manouche groans as a visual comes into her head.  She sees Willy at the lockup, talking through the bars to the possessed Abberline; sobs as she hears what he’s saying to Willy:  "That beautiful wife of yours, she has a spirit I could use."  "I got hold of your wife before, and I can do it again ... "

Manouche:  Nooo!!  We won’t let it ‘appen, y’ bastards!  We – we saved Madame that time … Willy’s me brother, he knows I’d lay down me life fer Madame –

Leader *sternly*  Then PROVE it.  Talk is cheap, Dreamer, and in case you hadn’t noticed, time is running out.

Manouche:  Y-yer makin’ all this up, jus’ to get th’ box.  These are tricks yer playin’ … this can’t be real …

Leader:  It’s all quite real, I assure you.  Contact Alifi, she’ll tell you.  This is all knowledge we gained in Fiji.  Why won’t you believe it?  Why won’t you agree to this, and stop bringing trouble to these people you keep saying you care for?

Manouche *tears running down her face*  I – I ‘aven’t been bringin’ trouble … I …well, I never meant to …

Leader *sees he’s found a chink in her armor, speaks in a softer voice*  I know, I know, good intentions, of course.  But trouble you’ve brought, nevertheless.  Already, Mr. Wonka is seeing that he’d better cast his lot in with those who can offer him protection.  *Nods again to Shadow standing next to him; Manouche sees vision of Willy speaking to Portsmith after visiting Abberline in the lockup, the two of them looking quite chummy*

Manouche:  B-blimey, that’s … well, that’s jus’ Willy bein’ smart, innit?  I mean, it’s always best t’ stay on th’ Commander’s good side …

Leader:  Are you sure that’s all there is to it?  Mr. Wonka is very fond of you, but he’s no fool.  He would never put his wife through that again.  And think of what Marchand would be receiving with Mrs. Wonka – you yourself know the power of twins.  *speaks louder, in a harsh voice*  If you’re selfish enough to say no to our offer, you may as well just escort her straight to Marchand’s doorstep.

Manouche *lowers head, sobbing, feels her legs giving out from under her; Shadows shake her roughly, hold her up*

Leader *continues*  But go along with us … and you’ll save them, you’ll save them all.  *pauses, plays trump card*  And who knows who Marchand plans on inhabiting next?  Could be your husband …

Manouche *sobs louder*  N- nooo … oh, by th’ bloody stars …

Leader *leans over as Shadow to his left says something; nods, looks back up*  Very well, Dreamer, we’re finished for now.  We’ll return you to your ship, and you can think it over.  We know not the location of the box at this time, but we do know that the one who possesses it will be looking for you.  Keep in mind everything we’ve told you.  You have at least until the box is located to give us your answer.  We hope you’ll acquiesce.  Your refusal will be the height of selfishness; it will buy you only a little more time, and it will bring more misery to your loved ones than you’ve caused them already.  Don’t worry about finding us when you’ve made your decision.  We’ll find you when the time comes.

*Everything goes black; Manouche feels a sensation like falling.  Next thing she knows, she’s back on the deck of The Viper … the day mild and sunny, the waters calm and bright blue, not a cloud in the sky.  Slowly sits up, looks at her shirtsleeves, notices a sickly green residue where the Shadows’ hands grasped her arms.  Buries her face in her hands and cries*

Down by the river:

Manouche *slowly walking back home from The Viper, the Leader’s words weighing heavy on her mind.  Decides to take the longer way home, through the woods.  Stops at one point, sinks down on the riverbank, watches the water pensively, wondering what to do.  A voice from behind startles her:

Dreamer, we have new trouble.

Manouche *raises eyebrows, turns to see vision of Ama. Shakes head*  Oh, NEW trouble.  Well, by th’ bloody powers, ain’t that a relief.  I were growin’ weary o’ th’ same ol’ troubles, wasn’t I??

Ama:  You must help my daughter …

Manouche *sighs*  Mum, ye might want t’ consider findin’ someone else fer that lil’ enterprise, whatever it may entail.  I ‘ave a bit of a full plate right now, savvy?  *pauses, sighs*  What can I do t’ help?  Seems I’m more trouble than assist these days.  That ain’t meant as self-pityin’ as it may sound.  It’s jus’ th’ truth, is all.  *picks up small rock, throws it in the river*

Ama:  Kat has found the box.  She’s considering taking it to Commander Portsmith, for a trade – the box for an opportunity to talk to Marchand.

Manouche *turns to her*  Now why would she want t’ do that?

Ama:  I think she believes she can make a difference in Marchand’s life.  If she can make this difference, she believes he would no longer wish to go through with what he’s planning.  She thinks she can convince him to take another life path.

Manouche:  A difference?  What th’ ‘ell kind o’ difference could she possibly make t’ that bastard?

Ama:  Marchand is her father.

Manouche:  Her – her FATHER … *spins around so abruptly, she loses her balance, rolls down embankment, into river.  Surfaces, blows out long stream of water, climbs out, scrambles back up riverbank, stares at Ama, incredulous*  Nooo, it can’t be.

Ama *hiding a small smile at Manouche's tumble*  It’s true.  You probably know Portsmith must never gain control of the box again.  It would corrupt her completely, and she doesn’t quite know what she’s doing with it.  The other concern is …

Manouche:  … Marchand …

Ama *nods*  If he catches on to what Kat’s thinking, he could use it.  He’s in a weakened state, but he must not be underestimated.

Manouche:  But what would he do?  *pushes dripping hair back from face*

Ama *shrugs*  So many possibilities, I wouldn’t know where to begin.  There’s also her magic … he could take advantage of that, somehow … especially with her inability to put it to proper use.  *pauses, looking out toward river, turns back to Manouche*  You must make sure she doesn’t go through with this.  Do not let her take the box to the Commander.

Manouche *grins*  Talkin’ about underestimatin’ … ‘ave ye ever tried to talk Kat outta doin’ somethin’ once ‘er mind’s made up?  I’ve had me tangle with that shovel o’ hers once already, luv.  *rubs back of her head from the memory*

Ama *smiles slightly*  She comes from very strong-willed stock.  She comes by it honestly.  *smile fades*  Please try, Manouche.  She listens to you more than you think.

Manouche *stares at her, sighs*  Bloody ‘ell … I’ll do me best.  But truth be told, I ‘ave other pressin’ matters at th’ forefront o’ me thoughts …

Ama:  I know.  *moves closer to Manouche, waves her arm, and Manouche finds herself completely dry*  Don’t listen to the guardians, Dreamer. 

Manouche:  Then … they weren’t tellin’ th’ truth?  It was a trick … me brother …

Ama *gazes at her sympathetically*  No, they were telling the truth.  They can do what they told you.  But they remain corrupted … you would be sacrificing yourself for nothing, there would still be danger.  There is another way.  Rescue Abberline’s soul from the box, then destroy it.  No one has to die to make that happen.

Manouche:  But … what’re we s’posed t’ do … an’ in th’ meantime, what about others in danger?  It’s me understandin’ that Marchand ‘as threatened Madame Wonka again …

Ama:  I wouldn’t say ignore that; but it’s my feeling he was just trying to rattle your friend.  You remember how he did that with you …

Manouche *breaks out into cold sweat*  B-blimey, how do y’ know about that …

Ama:  Just help my daughter, please.  And ignore the guardians.  Save Abberline, then destroy the box.  You’ll know all you need to know when the time comes.  *pauses, looks at her*  I'm grateful.  Now, get home, my dear ... don't keep your young man waiting.  *She fades away*

Manouche *shivers; then thinks of Blake, heart skips a beat*  That’s th’ best-soundin’ suggestion I’ve heard today.  *turns to head back to house, trips on tree root, rolls down riverbank, falls in water again.*  BLAST!  *pulls herself out, shakes off excess water … hurries home to warm fire, dry clothes, a tall glass of rum, and William Blake.*