AN: I know I told some of you I'd get this out by Friday, but a lot of stuff came up. I have a huge project and school started again. So I am seriously very sorry. This was the soonest I could get this out. I'm so sorry. Anyways, this is Sweeney's thoughts on the last chapter, and I will begin writing a new story about Sweeney hearing voices (and other sub-plots) soon. I hope you enjoy, and thank you everyone who has reviewed! Especially you who review every chapter, you are too kind. :)
He never knew how to feel when it was the last customer of the day. Should he be relieved that more vermin had been rid of the world, or set in a bad mood as he hadn't gotten Judge Turpin? Normally, it was both. As he would bring his razor across the man's throat, the blood flowing in a beautiful arch out of his neck, he wouldn't ponder his emotion. He knew his emotion then, sick joy. Seconds after the body slid down through the chute, skull cracking against the hard floor below, he would think about what he felt. As the thud echoed below, he would walk over to his window; eyes clouded, and try to figure it out.
On Saturday nights, there was always a steady flow of customers. After finishing a pie, they all seemed to find their way to Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor. Every third customer be sent down to the bake room, and the other two would probably help themselves to a man more closely shaved than themselves. He always killed his last customer, except if they brought family with them. That was something that never changed.
Quite the joy to Mr. Todd, his last customer of the day had not come with any family. If Sweeney had been a generous man, he would've given the man the shave he very much needed, and sent him on his merry way. However, unfortunately for the customer, Sweeney Todd wasn't the generous type, nor did he think anything of being kind to the human race.
So within moments of the man making himself comfortable, Sweeney brought his razor across his throat violently. He had a firm grip on his shoulder to keep the body from convulsing out of the chair. Once the blood turned to a slow trickle, Sweeney slammed his foot on the pedal. Without waiting more than a second after the body slid down, he walked over to the large window. Mrs. Lovett must've closed her shop for the night, as there wasn't anyone around. The only one outside was Tobias, piling dishes and wiping off the counters.
He walked over to his chair, where he had left a rag, and picked it up. Upon doing so, he strode back over to the large panel window, only to be taken aback. Where Tobias had previously been standing, a grown man now stood. A frown formed on his face as he cleaned his razor off. He hadn't seen him before, and why was he there? Wasn't it blatantly obvious that the shop was closed?
Mr. Todd shook his head, walking over to the desk to place his razor perfectly in its case. He brushed his finger across it before closing the top, and walking back over to the window. He was yet again taken by surprise. Mrs. Lovett was now standing outside as well, talking to the man. Sweeney growled, clenching his fist. He then took the time to examine that man.
He was well dressed, obviously from a richer part of town, with well groomed hair and fancy clothing. Sweeney took note to the way his eyes flashed to the woman's chest for a quick moment, and the man's smirk became all the more disgusting to the barber.
Mrs. Lovett looked wearily at the man before her; he could see from her eyes that she was questioning his motives, just as Sweeney was doing. There was no doubt in his mind what he was talking to her for, however. He knew what he wanted.
The man laughed. Mr. Todd could hear it clearly from his shop, and pulled his lip back into a grimace. He talked to her, smiling largely, taking a step towards her. Mrs. Lovett frowned, her eyebrows knit together as she began to talk to him.
As the man's eyes darted yet again to Mrs. Lovett's chest, Sweeney began to stalk away from the window. He wouldn't let anyone violate her that way. His wife had been raped. He wouldn't let his baker end up the same way.
His feet clunked heavily against the old stairs, but he could care less about the element of surprise. He just needed to get her out of there. He could hear Mrs. Lovett talking, but didn't focus on her words. He was looking at the man who stood across from her, and was taken aback for the third time that night. In the first up close glance Sweeney had at him, he was reminded of Judge Turpin, fifteen years ago. He had the same brown hair, and the same smug look on his face. His eyes. Oh, his eyes held the lust that Mr. Todd saw in Turpin's eyes when he spoke of Johanna. The same look that Turpin had all those years ago, when Lucy was almost in his grasp. He could feel the hate building inside of him, the boiling in his veins, the fire in his eyes.
She was completely unaware until that moment that he was behind her. She gave a small gasp as she turned to look at him, 'Mr. T! Gave me a frigh', ya did!"
He wasn't really listening. He wasn't even looking at her. That man's face. He could tell he was just like Turpin, exactly like that bastard. "Who's he." He couldn't stop the venomous tone from lacing his words.
Mrs. Lovett turned around again to face the other man. "Oh, 'e's Mr. Brown. Jus' stopped by to visit, 'e did."
He could tell she was lying. Her voice betrayed her.
Sweeney opened his mouth to say something, but the man, Mr. Brown, interrupted him. "Actually, I stopped by to ask Mrs. Lovett to accompany me on a walk tomorrow."
His face darkened, he had the same clean accent, the same cocky tone. How dare he ask his baker to go on a walk? How dare he even speak to her with nothing but thoughts of disgusting acts in his head?
He didn't notice Mrs. Lovett turn around to face him yet again. He kept his gaze on Brown. "And did she agree?"
He shook his head with a sigh, but Sweeney could tell that he wasn't exactly done trying. For tonight he may have been, but he'd try again. Men like that always did. They got what the wanted. "No, she didn't seem too enthralled by the idea, so I will take my leave of you. Good night, Mrs. Lovett."
The man reached to grab her hand, but she pulled it away, narrowing her eyes slightly.
Sweeney put his hand on her shoulder. He wouldn't let Brown say anymore. "Come with me, Mrs. Lovett."
He began to pull her up the stairs, not noticing how fast he walked, nor how she stumbled on a few steps along the way. Brown hadn't left yet, and he wanted Mrs. Lovett out of his sight.
As soon as he opened the door to his shop, he pushed her inside, pressing her against the closest wall. He pressed his body against hers. She was safe for the night. He couldn't hurt her tonight.
"Who was he?"
Sweeney could tell she was afraid. Her eyes had widened, and he could feel her heart racing against his chest. "Mr. Todd. . . " It was a whimper.
"Who was he?!" He leaned more of his weight against her, not to hurt her, but to keep her where she was.
Mrs. Lovett shook her head, her hair hitting his face. "I don't know, Mr. Todd! 'E just showed up, I'd never seen 'im before, I don't think! If I did, I didn't know 'is name 'til now! Please, Mr. Todd. . ."
He was too close to her. He worried about her getting raped, yet here he was, slamming her against a wall. He turned away, walking to his chair. There was still a bit of blood from the last customer on the seat. He placed his hand on the arm of the chair.
Sweeney could hear her footsteps coming up behind him, and then he could feel her hand being lightly placed on his shoulder. "Mr. T. . ?"
He sighed, she was warm. He thought that Mr. Brown probably assumed she was warm also. He gripped the chair tighter. "I don't want you to talk to him again." He turned to face her, trying to calm down. It wasn't working to well.
"Mr. T, 'e started talkin' to me. An' I'm not gon'na jus' not talk to someone when they talk to me. An' anyways, why's it matter so much? It was jus' a friendly conversation, it was!"
It wasn't Mrs. Lovett's fault his anger started to return again. It was that man. The mere mention of him caused anger to flow through Sweeney.
"That's just it, Mrs. Lovett! A friendly conversation with the likes of him, then you would have taken a walk with him, and God knows where you'd end up for the night!"
Her eyes widened, "Mr. Todd! I'm not a whore! I said no when 'e asked me to take a walk wit' 'im! I didn't wan' to!"
"He'll keep coming back! You encouraged him by acknowledging him! He'll come back, and ask you again, and you'll give in!"
"Mr. T, why does it matter to you what I say to the man?"
She should know. She should see the resemblance. She should see that he is just like Turpin. He clenched his fists at the thought, "It doesn't. I just don't want you to be taken advantage of."
Loose hairs fell around her face as Mrs. Lovett tilted her head to the side in confusion. "I wouldn't 'ave said yes to 'im anyways, Mr. T. An' if I did, I wouldn't let me self get taken advantage o'. No man's gon'na treat me like tha'."
He thought to when he pushed her against the wall, just moments ago. She would've let herself been taken advantage of then. She would do anything he said. He knew that. He walked a step closer to her, eyes softening. "Why do you let me push you around all the time, then?"
She looked into his eyes. She opened her mouth a few times, and then closed it again. The third time, she spoke. "You're different, Mr. T. S'not the same."
"How isn't it, Mrs. Lovett?"
A blush rose to her face as she looked away from him. It suited her, and kept his eyes on her.
"It's jus'. . . Different, Mr. Todd. You're different, I feel different for you than for some man off the street. S'not the same t'all. . ."
He didn't understand, but he knew it was hard for her to say. She stuttered, and her cheeks were red. He stepped closer to her, and placed his hand on her cheek. She was almost too warm. "Just don't talk to him, or any other man, again."
Mr. Todd needed to think. He needed to clear his head. He needed his razors. He needed to feel the cool silver in his hand, instead of the warm flesh of his baker. The warmth confused him.
With the cool metal in his hand, he calmed down. His anger washed away, as did his confusion. "Leave me, now."
He didn't hear her leave. He never did.
The streets were empty, but it was easy enough to find him. He was talking to one of the whores, which didn't surprise Sweeney in the least. After Mrs. Lovett refused him, he'd need to find his satisfaction elsewhere. In the dark alleyway at night was the perfect place for a man to do so.
Sweeney waved the beggar off, and she scuttled away without much of a complaint. She could see the murderous glint in his eye, and no doubt the silver in his hand. Mr. Brown watched her round the corner, and began to turn around. Before he could do so, Mr. Todd put his razor to the man's throat, digging it in roughly and dragging it across.
AN: So, what do you think? Yet again, I'm so sorry for the delay. Review please, they make me smile. :)