First chapter, hope you like it and I hope you read it and review it too because as usual I have no motivation to write if no one reviews. Please read!
Now it was common knowledge to the three inhabitants of the barber and pie shop that it is to be expected that everyday a young sailor by the name of Anthony Hope would pay them a visit.
Anthony would always begin the visit in the same manner; bursting in the door of either business shouting "Mr. Todd!" and then, when all ears in the room were at attention, he would continue breathlessly, after explaining how he had run all the way there, and introduce the current predicament he had come across.
But it was not common knowledge, nor to be expected, that Anthony would show up in the middle of the night, pounding on the door to Sweeney Todd's barber shop.
Sweeney Todd wasn't trying to sleep.
For a diabolical mass murderer like him, sleep was out of the question.
It just wasn't…villainous enough.
For it was common knowledge to the world that the darkest of all dark deeds were done not by daylight, but by night.
Now Sweeney didn't have the luxury to roam the streets at night, slashing the next of anyone whom he might come across, but at least he could spend his nights awake and plotting his revenge.
Except for when the wooden stairs outside his shop began to creak and suddenly a thunderous banging on his door began.
Sweeney jumped up from his barber chair, and crept through the darkness towards his door. The only light in his room would have been the moonlight, shinning in from the window, but it wasn't there tonight.
Razor in hand, because razor was always in hand, Sweeney grasped the rusting metal doorknob and twisted, the squeak unheard over the continuous knocking, and as quickly as he could jerked open the door.
Before he could speak, Anthony found a razor at his throat and so instinctively lifted his hands.
Sputtering through chokes of fear, Anthony managed to say "M-Mr. T-Tod-dd! It-it's me!"
Sweeney's eyes were a adjusted to the pitch black and all it took was a squint to tell that it was indeed, someone he knew, though 'it's me' didn't explain much. He slowly lowered his razor, closing it and pocketing it.
Sweeney considered just slamming the door in Anthony's face for interrupting him, but decided that would lead to more pounding so allowed Anthony to enter the dark room, closing the door quietly behind him.
"What do you want, Anthony?" he asked gruffly, sparing any pleasantries and hoping to get this little midnight meeting over quickly.
Shivering, Anthony crossed the room, sitting himself down without invitation on the nearest thing possible; the barber chair. Sweeney didn't like this, but before he could speak, Anthony continued.
"I didn't know who else to come to…" he began, "I mean, I couldn't well go to the authorities with it, since Turpin has them under his control and he doesn't like me very well. But I couldn't just sit by and tell no one, you know, that wouldn't have been right either, so I came here to tell you!"
"Tell me what?" Sweeney demanded.
"I witnessed a murder!" Anthony declared.
Sweeney's first instinct to the word 'murder' was interest, but then it was fear. What if Anthony had found him out? What if Judge Turpin and the Beadle were waiting outside for him as he and Anthony spoke?
"Where?" Sweeney inquired.
"Out in the streets, near the docks I think." Anthony tried to explain, furrowing his brow attempting to remember, "I don't really know London all that well, I'm not sure where anything this is…"
That was a relief, at least Anthony didn't see the murder committed looking up in Sweeney's barber shop. Sweeney almost sighed but that wouldn't be the evil thing to do.
"Alright then," Sweeney changed the course of conversation from where it happened, to what happened, "What exactly happened? What did you see?"
"I was walking back from—" Anthony was cut off.
"It doesn't matter where, what happened when you saw the murder?" Sweeney interrupted.
"I got lost and I walked into an alley and walked behind a dead tree." Anthony stated, still shivering, "Two men ran into the alley, yelling, one of them had a knife and killed the other!"
"How?!" Sweeney questioned. Normally, he wouldn't really care about what was going on in London at night but if there was a chance…
"He slit his throat!" Anthony exclaimed, his voice breaking as he clenched his fists shaking and trying not to cry, "And I just stood there and watched and did nothing! Oh I'm such a coward!"
Anthony dissolved into outright sobbing, throwing his hands onto his tearing eyes, hoping to save any last bit of dignity he had.
Sweeney paid the crying boy no mind though, the man killed had had his throat slashed.
Someone was stealing his method!
Before Sweeney could make a decision on what to do about it, the door burst open in a loud smash, causing both Sweeney and Anthony to jerk their heads around to see it.
"What's going on in here?!" Mrs. Lovett screeched. A large rolling pin was waving in her hand, to threaten anyone who might be harming the (unrequited) love of her life, "Oh, it's only you, Anthony…Mr. Todd, what is he doing here so late?" she lowered her weapon/cooking utensil.
Sweeney didn't answer and turned back to Anthony who had returned to sobbing face in hands.
"Where did the murderer go?" he asked.
"Into an inn right down the street…I just let him walk away…" Anthony spoke, his answer muffled through his fingers.
"I'm going there." Sweeney declared.
Anthony looked up wide-eyed, tears still evident on his face, "You are?" he inquired hopefully.
"YOU ARE?!" Mrs. Lovett inquired angrily, "No why in the world would you want to get mixed up in any murder business. I don't know what's going on around here but—"
"A man died of a slashed throat." Sweeney stated.
"Oh." Mrs. Lovett mouthed, then added cheerily, "You should definitely do something 'bout that!"
She knew that if there was a criminal investigation on the slashed throat, there was a slim chance that somehow, it would be linked to the barber and pie shops and they would be ruined.
Besides, no one can steal Sweeney's style like that and get away with it.
"I'm going right now." Sweeney announced, "What Inn was it?"
"Um…I don't know…I ran past so fast I didn't read the name and it was awfully dark out there too…" Anthony fumbled, "But the door was painted with a red flower, is that any help?"
"Maybe…" Sweeney muttered.
Truthfully, he had no idea where that inn with the red flower was, but saying so wasn't one of his top priorities. The only place in all of London he knew well was Fleet Street especially after his fifteen year absence.
Never the less, Sweeney headed towards the door, brushing past Mrs. Lovett on his way out.
"I'm coming with you!" she called after him as he stomped down the stairs.
"No." Sweeney replied, without looking back as he continued on his way out into the London night.
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Sweeney had sulked through seven streets until he finally passed a building with rose painted on the door across from an alley with a tall barren tree towards the back.
Running his finger over the razor in his right hand, Sweeney ventured into the alleyway and saw a body lying dead one the cobblestone, a puddle surrounding him made of rainwater, blood and other liquids that would be in a dirty London alley.
"That idiot." Sweeney scowled, clenching his fist around his razor.
The dead man's throat hadn't been slashed. Instead, it had been stabbed and a rough red circle-shape was left behind as evidence.
Only Anthony wouldn't be able to tell a slash from a stab.
Sweeney was about to turn to leave the alley when he heard voices. He looked across the street to see a light exit the red-flowered building, illuminating it's carrier, a burly and hairy man. A woman ran out after him quickly after, screeching at him about money.
"Follow me!" burly and hairy commanded, grabbing the woman's arm with his free hand and dragging her across the street, "I want to show you something!"
"Let me go you crazy bastard!" the woman yelped but was powerless to stop him.
Sweeney got behind the dead tree just as burly brought the woman into the alley.
"Look there!" Burly boomed, letting go of the woman's arm and pointing to the corpse.
The woman gasped, then screamed.
"I'll killed that man, see, and I can do that to you if you don't shut up about the money!" Burly threatened, glaring at the woman.
She didn't answer, she was too busy vomiting on the ground next to the stabbed man.
"You killed that man?" Sweeney asked, walking out from behind the prickly old tree, his form only a silhouette.
"Who the hell are—"
Burly was unable to complete his profane exclamation, for Sweeney had swiftly snapped open his razor and was holding it at his throat. A tiny bed of blood dripped down Burly's unshaved neck as his eyes grew wide and he began to perspire.
The woman, who had just finished regurgitating her latest meal, took one look at the scene and turned and fled the alley.
When Sweeney was about to give this man his closest—and last—shave, when he saw another light and heard more voices.
"It was this way!"
Anthony's voice.
And then multiple sets of footsteps thumped into the alley.
The local Constable, Mrs. Lovett and Toby, following Anthony rushed into the alley with the dead tree to find Sweeney standing with his razor to a man's throat about to make the killing blow.
And just when Sweeney thought he was going to have to murder them all, Anthony spoke.
"That's him, Constable-sir! That man there is the one that killed that man lying on the floor!"
"Are you sure?" the Constable questioned.
"Definitely." Anthony nodded.
The Constable returned the nod and marched over to Sweeney, patting him on the shoulder.
"Sir." He said, "You've just apprehended a murderer that has committed a crime against gone and may have gone on to commit more except for the fact that you have stopped him."
Sweeney just scowled and growled, "So?" in response and slowly lowered his razor from Burly's throat as the Constable chained his hands together.
Anthony ran up to join them, smiling widely at Sweeney.
"You're a hero, Mr. Todd!"
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