The nervous young man walking the dark streets paused. He felt strange. There was something wrong, he had the feeling he was being followed. He often had that feeling, but there was never anyone there. For a moment he almost thought he heard footsteps. That is why as he rounded the corner of Fleet Street and saw the man on his stairs he called out.

"Sir! Pardon me sir, may I come up for a moment? I am feeling a little strange and would like some water."

The man on the stairs said nothing but waved the man up all the same. By the time he got upstairs there was water waiting for him on the dresser. The dark man was standing nearby looking out the window.

"Is this your wife?" The man with the water asked pointing to the gilded picture frame on the dresser. "She's very pretty." The man at the window instantly switched his gaze out the window to a violent glare at the young man.

"What?" he barked as he shoved the man against the wall.

"Your wife, she's pretty, please don't hurt me!" he choked "I'm going to be married myself." At that the man was released.

"Your intended, is she pretty?" said the man withdrawing back towards the window.

"Yes, very. Soft golden curls, and a face like an angel. All I want is to be able to take care of her. All I want to do is make her happy. Emma is my life. Oh, my name is Jekyll, Dr. Henry Jekyll."

"A doctor, you should have no problems providing for her."

"Yes, that would be the case, but my research is not going very well, I'm not getting enough funding."

"What is standing in your way." Normally the man from Fleet Street would not care to socialize with the people who found there way into his upstairs room, but the young man standing near his dresser brought out sympathy he did not know he had.

"The group of my usual benefactors does not approve of my current experiments. I believe that in time I can create an elixir to separate the good from the evil that lurks within man. They believe it's sacrilegious and refuse to give me funding." The young man continued to talk unaware that his silent host was no longer paying attention. It was not until the young man had driven himself to frustration over his experiments and began to loose control of himself, that his host even batted an eyelash. The man at the window watched with a curious expression as his guest thrashed and choked.

He seems to be having a fit. Hm...if he dies, I'll just send him down the chute and Lovett will deal with him in the morning. If he lives, well I'll just have to listen to him talk.

He turned in disgust as the man wretched and gaged. Then everything was still.

"Alright?" He thought he would ask, for the fiancé's sake. Instead of a weak confirmation like he was expecting, he was answered by a deep chuckle.

"I sense I am no longer in the presence of the good doctor." Said the host to his unusual guest.

"I think your right there friend." Answered the new entity in the Doctor's likeness.

"So it it's not him who are you?"

"You can just think of me as a concerned citizen."

"Concerned for what."

"The current state of London, and it's moral decay." Said the new man. "The same people that believe they have the right to judge me and tell me what I can and cannot do, do things that would make your hair curl when they think no one is watching."

"I believe you friend, you have found a kindred spirit. Someone else in the pit of London who believes in the extermination of the vermin in the city."

"Extermination?" The new man said to himself. "Yes, they deny me what I need, and take advantage of the people under them, in more way's than one, if you see my meaning." The second man nodded. "Yes then that is what I'll do, exterminate them! My friend you are a true visionary. To whom do I owe my gratitude?"

"Sweeney Todd, the barber of Fleet Street," he replied, "If you are ever in the neighborhood again, stop in for a shave."

"I will," said the second man as he left the upstairs room.