Sorry, no fluff. I feel empty. And this is really short.
Purgatory
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Death isn't like people say.
It's not a sudden impenetrable blackness that engulfs you, neither is it a bright light at the end of a tunnel. You don't suddenly become religious and send desperate prayers in the hopes that the God you never believed in will have mercy on you and you don't see your whole life rush past in those last moments of consciousness.
I know, because I'm dying right now. 'S not a walk in the park, let me tell you that much. It hurts. It bloody hurts. The fire swallows me whole, envelopes me like a protective blanket only that it's not warm, it's hot. Burning hot. I want to keep my mouth shut but I have no longer control over my own body. The screams of agony give way for the licking flames to creep into my mouth and burn my throat from the inside. I feel the fire eatin' away at me, gnawing the flesh off me bones an' devouring me mercilessly. In a way I feel like laughing because it's quite ironic- me dying in the very oven that 'as accommodated a least two dozens of my own victims.
Yes, I see 'em that way. 'T was Sweeney who killed 'em but everything else was my doing. Oh, and how I liked it. Choppin' up those buggers that 'ave looked down on me or worse- never even seen me at all. Every time I'd recognized someone I had found immense pleasure in the beheading and in taking them apart limb by limb, a dark smile on my lips in the process. Guess I deserve to burn now.
When Albert died 'e mumbled some nonsense 'bout 'ow the last 'e ever saw would be me and 'ow that seemed like the most beautiful sight in the whole wide world for 'im. In 'is defense- the bloke 'ad barely ever left Fleet Street. Last thing I saw was my beloved barber's glare before 'e shut the damned hatch, forever cutting me off from the rest o' the world. In his eyes was no emotion, no hate, no sorrow, no regret, givin' me a taste of the emptiness that's surely awaiting me.
Silly as it may sound, for a moment I thought he meant it. That he really forgave me and we could keep on living together in the hell that is London. Bastard caught me by surprise, 'e did. Although I should've known, o'course. In one moment I was in 'is arms, seeing our life by the sea, hearing the seagulls, tasting the salty air… and in the next I'm embraced by the burning heat of my oven. After the surprise came the pain.
And with the pain came the hatred.
With all that was left of my burning heart I despised him for everything he had ever done. For walking into me life all them years ago, for not seeing me for the woman I was, for finding someone else, for leaving me, for coming back, for usin' me… but most of all I hated Sweeney Todd for not loving me.
And I'm saying Sweeney Todd because that pathetic lovesick piece o' shit that was Benjamin Barker was swiped from me mind the very second Sweeney sat down in my shabby kitchen. I always knew there was a dark side to 'im, always hoped he'd show it one day. When 'e did I loved him more for it than I 'ad ever loved Benjamin for his kindness. I couldn't 'elp it, y'see. I'd 'ave given that silly man everything and in the end that's wot I did. I gave him everything I had. Even my life.
Sounds naïve, eh? It don' matter anymore. The pain's gone now, so is the love… an' I believe so is me life.
When 'e dies too then I hope we never meet in hell.