Author Note: So I've been wanting to put up a new story recently and after watching "Sweeney Todd" a few dozen or so times while painting (I am not kidding! it's almost sick how many times I've watched it recently!) anyways...so this is going to be a first for me, I usually don't post things until the story is completely written (which leads me to why I don't have a lot of my stories posted...I can never be completely happy with them so I just leave them to rot and take up memory on my computer) :(
I don't own Sweeney Todd, if I did I'm sure Helena and I would be best of friends and I wouldn't have to put up posters and talk to myself. (is that weird?) (I'm really not that creepy but this just makes me sound like a stalker...which I'm not)
Anyways...I hope you enjoy this story and since it's not done I have no clue how long it will be! this is an adventure, hope you stick around to enjoy it with me!
BTW: Lucy is really dead in this one. And I cannot write a cockney accent. I will try a little bit but you're probably going to have to imagine it. Sorry!
The Stolen Ruby
Eleanor Lovett moved easily through the crowd at St. Dunstan's market place late in the day. It was nearing evening and she noticed the gray clouds that hung low overhead. Quickly gathered her groceries, she began the 15 minute walk home.
Glancing up at the steadily darkening skies she quickened her pace towards her warm pie shop. Just as the burgundy haired woman turned onto Fleet Street she heard the sharp clap of thunder overhead just before the clouds released their heavy down onslaught of rain upon the people of London.
Picking up her brightly colored skirts she raced the last few blocks home before quickly dashing into the darkened entrance of her home and shop.
"Toby?" She called out, setting the basket down onto the clean countertop. Wondering why the candles hadn't been lit, she made her way back to her parlor looking to see if her boy had drunken himself into a stupor again. The poor lad seemed to do that a lot. "Toby?" her voice echoed silently in the house and for some unknown reason she shivered. Walking into the dimly lit parlor she made her way over to the fireplace which was giving off a soft glow from the dying embers, she did not see her adoptive son at his usual place. She grabbed a candle from the mantle and lit it. Becoming worried Nellie walked down the dark hallway which lead to the boy's room.
She opened the door and peered inside, hoping to see the outline of his small body bundled up beneath his blankets. She sighed in relief when she saw him fast asleep, holding a bottle of gin precariously in his fingertips. Tip toeing into the room she grabbed the bottle from the boys loose grip. Smoothing the hair away from his forehead she kissed him and thought just how thankful she was to have the small lovable child in her life.
Taking the bottle with her she closed the door and made her way back into the gray kitchen. The dim light from outside cast an eerie glow to the kitchen and she shuddered again. Thinking it was because of her damp clothing, she set the gin bottle down, lit a few candles to illuminate her work area and decided to go change before unloading the groceries from the large basket.
Mrs. Lovett walked into her bedroom, which was right off of the parlor, and lit more candles using the one she still carried with her from the mantle. She hummed softly under her breath as she took off the damp dress and undergarments and put on a new outfit. It was one of her favorites, a dark red taffeta trimmed with black lace. Fixing her hair in the mirror she smiled at herself before heading back to her kitchen, leaving the candle behind.
As she walked down the short passage way from the parlor she noticed that the kitchen was dark again even though she had just lighted the candles before she changed. She shivered again and advanced slowly, unsure if something awaited her or if the candles had both just died out. She entered the kitchen and kept her back to the wall, it had grown dark outside and so there was not light in the sinister kitchen. She reached where she knew one of the candles lay and began making her way back to the parlor to light it.
Once in the passageway she hastily flew to the fireplace and lit the candle. The little light didn't do much for her frazzled nerves. Making her way back to the kitchen she went to cross to the other candles but as she drew to the center of the room she heard the soft moan of the floorboards behind her seconds before something heavy hit her in the back of the head. Mrs. Lovett fell to the ground in heap, causing the light to go out and she fell unconscious as she was lifted up by two men and taken out of the dark, now empty, pie shop.
