There was nothing but to wait. Sweeney Todd detested this type of waiting. He waited in prison for 15 years for a chance to grasp the life he had once known. He had waited days and nights for an opportunity to seek his vengeance. Yet, this time, he was waiting for the reason of his shattered dreams, life, and family. Sweeney Todd was waiting for Judge Turpin, and every step he took brought impatience and anger.

He had sent the letter. What the hell was taking the bastard so long?

His pacing stopped as he gazed outside of his window that overlooked the filthy London. A soft glint bounced off of the razor as he held it in his hand. Soon, it seemed to sigh. Soon…


Toby sat, listening to the ominous pacing that continued upstairs in the barber shop. He is dangerous. He had to warn Mrs. Lovett!

Toby stood with a sigh and walked into the parlor where he found the woman dozing in a recliner chair. She woke with a slight start as the boy walked in further, silently begging for forgiveness for waking the only person in the world that had ever shown affection towards him. He would return the favor.

"Where you been, lad? Been quite the rush at dinner tonight, me poor bones is ready to drop," she murmured as her eyes closed.

Toby continued to walk forward. "I went on an errand for Mr. Todd. I stopped by the workhouse to take a look and I couldn't help but think that if it weren't for you…I'd still be there." Mrs. Lovett smiled and opened her eyes.

Toby kneeled at the side of her chair. It's now or never. "Mum? What if there was someone who was bad, but you never knew it?"

Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened as her head turned to look the boy she had grown to love. Did he know? Had he seen something? "What are you talking about? What do you mean bad?" the woman asked, but Toby ignored her questions and spoke.

"I would never let anything harm you. You saved me and I will be forever in your debt. But there is someone who I think wishes to hurt you," Toby cast a glance at the ceiling, "Someone bad."

Mrs. Lovett jumped out of her seat, in terror. "Please, there is nothing to be afraid of, dear!"

Toby just shook his head. "I knew you would say that. I just want you to believe me. Mr. Todd is dangerous!"

Mrs. Lovett let out a hiss of air as if she had been punched. "You believe that Mr. Todd is dangerous?"

Toby nodded his head slowly. Though the fear in her eyes tore at Toby's heart, he remained firm.

"Now dear," the baker said, choosing her words carefully. "Mr. Todd is a wonderful man. He has taken care of both of us. I would never dream of thinking bad thoughts of him. You must trust my word and him as a person. Nothing will ever harm you, Toby. I swear it."

The young boy seemed to waver. "Are you sure, mum?"

Mrs. Lovett nodded, "I'm sure." She walked over to the piano that had not been played in years. She slipped some coins out of the purse that was the boy's former master's, taking care that she was not seen. "Why don't you go to the market and buy us some sweets, dear?" She handed the money to him, the wallet still hidden. Toby smiled as he took the money.

"Thank you, mum!"

"Take your time, sweet, and you may purchase anything else that takes your fancy."

The boy sent her one last smile as he walked out of the room and slipped out the door. Mrs. Lovett relaxed. She would not let her Toby be harmed. She loved him as her own.

"Better check on Mr. Todd," she said too herself. The stairs shuddered slightly underneath her feat as she walked upstairs to the barber shop.

"Mr. T?" she asked as she walked in. The room was very dark, yet she could make out the barber's figure, staring out of the window. "Toby went out to get a few things," she informed him. He did not reply. "Are you alright?" Mrs. Lovett questioned as she took a few tiny steps forward. He whirled around to face her.

"The judge will be here soon," he muttered, his eyes glinting dangerously. The woman placed her hands on her hips.

"Well, that explains the bloody pacing," she whispered. He turned his head to gaze out of the window once more.

"Excuse me, Beadle Bamford calling on official business!" Both the barber and the baker rushed out of the shop and down the stairs to where the shout had seemed to come from.

The Beadle stood at the bottom of the stairs, his small face pink and plump. "Evening," he said with an odd wave of his hand. "I am sorry to inform you that there have been complaints of the smell that has come from your chimney. It is very foul, so I am here to let you know that I must take a look at your bake house, according to the health regulations."

Sweeney Todd leaned in towards the Beadle and began to persuade him to let the barber pamper him. Of course, Mr. Todd was not about to pamper the vermin that had led to the doom of his wife and the imprisonment of his only child. No, that was definitely not his intentions.

Mrs. Lovett watched as the two men disappeared into the shop, knowing that she would never be bothered with the Beadle again. He was as good as dead.

Sweeney Todd let the pleasure of slitting the man's throat flow through his veins. Beadle Bamford let out a sickening gurgle as the razor slit through his skin, as if it were its only purpose. The sound was like a symphony to the murderous barber.

"Never fear," he said to the dying man. "The devil shall join you soon enough." And with that, the chair tilted backward, allowing the man to fall through the trapdoor and hit his head against the floor of the bake house. The barber grabbed the Beadle's hat and coat, savoring the sight of them fluttering down and covering the Beadle's shocked face. Though his face was covered, the dark liquid spread from beneath his body, painting the stones around him, a dark crimson.

Sweeney walked out of the shop, his thirst for revenge, still not yet satisfied.


Mrs. Lovett looked up as the barber entered the parlor. "Is it done?" she asked. He nodded his head, causing her to let out a breath of relief. "Good."

She walked over to him. "I need to talk to you about…about…Toby," she stammered. She would tell the barber of the boy's suspicions, but she would not allow him to hurt Toby. She only wanted Sweeney to be aware…


"Mr. Todd!" Anthony yelled as he rushed into the barber shop, Johanna tripping in behind him. "Wait here, Johanna. I shall return with a coach, just stay here for a half an hour. I swear your safe, dear. No one will recognize you," he assured her, noting the disguise he had placed her in. Anthony placed a hand on the fold of her jacket, and straightened it slightly.

No one would suspect a boy to be the beautiful Johanna. No one.

He placed a slight kiss on her head and ran out, leaving Johanna alone in the shop. She walked slowly around the shop, never suspecting that this shop had once been her home. Suddenly, Johanna heard a voice and footsteps heading to the room where she stood. Johanna immediately dropped the razor that she was examining and hid inside of the trunk.

The beggar woman had seen the Beadle walking up the stairs. He had walked up the stairs to hell! He had! "Beadle," she sang softly as she too, walked up the stairs to find the missing man. "I saw you," she declared in a shaky voice while opening the shop door.

It was slightly dark in the room as she paced around, looking for what she thought was the Beadle, but what her body told her was something else, though she did not know what. As she walked to a mirror with a variety of creams and lotions on the top, she noticed a picture with a woman and a baby, their faces smeared with a substance that appeared to be red. Though this would normally be a frightening sight, the beggar stared at the picture itself, entranced by the familiarity of it. Who were these people? Had she met them before? "Place of madness," she shrieked, slamming the picture down. Tears of frustration flowed down her dirty face.

A baby, a husband, love, pain, rape, these thoughts invaded her mind. The room around her seemed to fade as she faced the scene before her. She stood near a young woman with golden hair holding a small child, sitting in a chair, her face holding nothing short of sorrow. "Stop!" she shrieked. "Stop." The image faded slowly.

The bells attached to the door jingled as the beggar fled the shop and ran down the stairs, her tears smearing the dirt on her face. Whoever that woman was that she had just seen, she was in pain, and she felt like she knew that pain. She felt like she knew that woman.

HELLO, MY BEAUTIFUL READERS!! Thank you so much for checking out my story! Sorry if the story was a little general but the "what if" part is coming up. Please submit a comment! FLAMERS CAN GO TO HELL WHERE THEY WILL BE WELCOMED!! Any constructive comment is gladly accepted and the next chapter will be up soon! Review! It motivates me!