The smell of copper and metal fills Mrs. Lovett's nostrils, along with a hint of rust and salt. It is dark and she feels around for a door, a wall, anything. She feels moistness on her fingertips and she hears a distant sound of someone yelling, followed by a harsh drop to the ground.

She walks further into the darkness until a shadow of a man appears somewhere against a wall. When she approaches the light she looks at her hands, only to find them covered completely in blood. She moves even deeper and finally finds the source of the light - fire.

Even with flames licking at the walls, she recognizes her surroundings instantly as Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial parlor. She also discovers what made the horrifying sounds.

"Come for a shave?" The familiar barber asks her once he notices her presence.

The frightened woman stutters, stepping backwards as he advances his way towards her.


She gasps and sits up from her bed only to find that she is completely drenched in sweat. Mrs. Lovett remembers little to nothing from her nightmare, but this has become almost a daily thing for the last few weeks.

It is Monday, the beginning of a whole new week. Which means, more bodies, more pies and more work for the exhausted pie baker.

"Brought ya some breakfast, dear." She greets later on in the morning, not at all surprised when she gets nothing but a grumble in return from him.

"Ya know, this is the third time this week that I woke up in a sweat." She tells him matter-of-factly, setting his tray down on his desk and turning to look at him.

He pays no attention to her and admires one of his beloved razors, she then clears her throat, bringing him out of his trance.


"Nevermind, dear. Is there anything else you need?"

"The Judge." He mutters, moving to stare down through his window and at the people outside.

"Oh, don't worry 'bout 'im, 'ell come around one of these days."

"Not after that impetuous boy ruined my chance." He suddenly growls, turning to her and furrowing his brows.

"Now, now, love. There's no need to get upset, we'll get 'im even if it means kidnappin' the bastard."

There was a pause, and for a moment it looks like Mr. Todd is actually considering his accomplice's remark. "One of these days, Mrs. Lovett, I just might take up your offer."

She smirks and turns to the door, but not before stopping a second to remind him to leave his dirty shirts by the door for her later.


After another long, grueling day, Mrs. Lovett settles herself down in her parlor with a book. She nods off to sleep shortly after, only to fall into yet another one of her nightmares.

This is short, yes, but it seemed like a good place to end. Hopefully you all give this story a chance because I plan on writing longer chapters and this is also my first time writing in this type of form (as my loyal readers might have noticed).

"Somnambulism" is Latin for "sleepwalking" so you can only imagine what I have in store for you…

Thanks for reading, reviews are my solace.