Author: DangerGirl7283 PM
The barber and the baker...yes we all know the story. But...if everyone died at the end of the movie, then who was there to pass on the tale? Please R&R!Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama - Sweeney T. - Chapters: 9 - Words: 21,236 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 07-02-09 - Published: 12-11-08 - id: 4711012
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I own nothing except Victoria. All credit goes to Paramount, Tim Burton, Christopher Bond, and whoever else helped to make Sweeney Todd.
"A-right, sir! You're new 'ome is ready for ya!" one of the workers said.
"Thank you, sir. Have a pleasant day," the new owner of the house replied. When the door closed, he took a good look around.
The wallpaper was singed, and looked more like it belonged in a church than an old pie shoppe. The floor was filthy. It obviously hadn't been swept for many, many years. Everything needed to be either cleaned or replaced altogether. Sighing at the thought of how much work would need to be done, the man went outside, needing a reprieve from the musty air inside. He heard his wife already barking commands to the children, telling them to begin the grueling task of cleaning the house.
London's outside air wasn't much better from his home's inside air, but he would take just about anything. Cleaning didn't appease to him much, so this was better. He looked around, and thought he saw something.
A door. A large, metal door, hidden behind some overgrown shrubs. Curious, he went towards it and tried to open the rusted entrance.
It was heavy, and took a great effort to make it budge, but it eventually opened. Immediately, a foul stench assaulted his nose, and he almost turned back, but curiosity got the better of him. He went in.
The room was pitch black inside, and he couldn't see anything further than his nose. It was large, he could tell, because with every step he took, his footsteps echoed throughout the room.
Though his steps were careful, he still stumbled upon something. Warily, he reached down and picked up the object. It was a book. Even more so curious, he nearly ran out of the large room into the light with the book, eager to read it.
On the book's cover, there read, 'Victoria's Diary', engraved in gold on its green velvet cover. He opened the book to the first entry, taking a seat on a bench outside.