Hi, this is my first uploaded fanfic, I hope it does well and you enjoy it! I'm kinda nervous about uploaded it but my friend managed to talk me into doing this. Reviews are much appreciated though flames are not.

And no, I don't own any of the characters, lyrics, or anything else Sweeney Todd. If I did do you think I'd be writing fanfictions?

Summary: Sweeney Todd is under the misconception that he is Death itself. Little does he know that London is home to a coven of pure evil and that they will soon seduce him into a bloodlust he has never known before...

Prologue

Rain brutally hammered windows and pounded on the streets, lightning forked acrfoss the sky followed by the loud boom of thunder, and yet men were still traversing the cold London streets. The rain did not irk these men whose business was far more important that the discomfort of sopping wet clothes that clung to the body or numb appendages. A storm was brewing though, and the brave Londoners that prevailed were rushing along their way, holding their hats to their heads and tightly clutching their briefcase.

The sky was illuminated by a brief flash of lightning and the roar of thunder that shadowed it shook the windows in Mr. Sweeney Todd's barbershop. The man himself stood before a window, his nose inches away from the shaking glass. His stood stiffly with his arms folded behind his back, one hand fondling a chaste silver razor, the other clenched into a tight fist. The barber's forehead was creased and one corner of his lip was turned down in a dismal frown. The only signs that he was alive and conscious were the slow rise and fall of his chest and the erratic movement of his eyes.

He watched those below him with black eyes full of hatred and disgust. Those men, those putrid little men…

We all deserve to die…

"Vermin," Todd spat, spit catching on the window.

There's a whole in the world like a great black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with shit and the vermin of the world inhabit it!

Those rhymes were lyrics of the Demon Barber's song. Sweeney Todd lived by his epiphany, his realization that all men were nothing more than shit and that they were damned to kiss the silver blade of his razor.

They all deserve to die!

"And I will see to it that they do," Todd vowed in a low voice.

Wind whistled through a crack in the window, the sound ringing in Todd's ears like a woman's screams of pain. The scream evoked bad memories, memories of Lucy; visions of what that damned Turpin did to her. It also brought other memories, those from a different age, life…

He remembered standing before the fire in the parlor, the warmth not heating his body then slicked with a cold sweat. Lucy was screaming in the bedroom and he had felt worthless, away from his wife with his clammy hands stuffed in his pockets. The screaming stopped and his stomach lurched. Was she dead?

But the wailing of a baby pierced the silence and he nearly swooned from relief. Lucy was lying in the bed, her yellow hair sticking to her wet forehead and in her arms was the baby, Johanna.

Todd roared and his fist slammed into the window. Pain shot up his arm though he did not wince. Pain was what he wanted. He needed the feeling of hot blood pouring over his fingers to bring him back into the world.

The window was now cracked and bloodied. Todd inspected his injured fist and found with satisfaction that glass was embedded in his fingers and blood was running down the back of his hand.

The barber resumed his position standing before the window with his arms behind his back, the fingers of his right hand caressing hand the silver razor, his left ruining the back of his shirt with red stains of blood. He stared into the windows of the building across the street. One window was full of a bright light and inside was two men, one shouting at the other and raising his arms.

...there are two kinds of men and only two. There's the one staying put in his proper place and the one with his foot in the other one's face.

"Vermin, all of them," Todd mumbled. "I will kill them all."

Todd bean to pace around his tiny room, mind buzzing with plots of murder. That damned Judge Turpin, sitting in his well protected mansion so hard to get. And that sailor boy Anthony, Sweeney could have killed him the moment he barged into the shop but the boy would be useful in the future if he could keep out of reach of the cold hands of death.

The cold hands of Death…

Those were Sweeney's hands, Sweeney Todd was Death itself and the razor in his hand was his scythe.

The tiny bell above the door sang of an intruder and Todd's teeth clenched when Nelly Lovett's incessant chattering began. The barber slowly turned and took in the sight of the dripping wet baker, a tray in her hands and mouth rapidly opening and closing.

"'Ow you can stay in this freezin' room I'll never know," Lovett shivered after setting down the tray.

"How the hell you manage to always think of something to speak of I'll never know nor want to," Todd grumbled.

This managed to deflate the baker's positive aura and she trudged back to the door defeated. Todd was pleasantly surprised for once, most times the woman would chatter for minutes before she finally gave up and retired to her own shop.

Todd returned to the window now slightly calmer. He might eat later though he rarely finished anything Lovett brought to him.

The door opened once more and Todd was ready to rage until a thick cockney accent said, "'Ello mate, just popped in for a bit of a shave if you're still open."

The barber's mood changed instantly and he spun around with a sinister smile. "Why of course this shop is open, sir, as long as one requires my services."

"Customer service," the man grinned. "I like this place."

"If you would take a seat, sir," Todd gestured towards the chair. The man sat down in the red velvet chair and Sweeney could hardly contain his excitement. It was a feeling that rivaled that of a predator stalking its prey. Unlike the majestic lion who killed for survival, Todd killed not only for his own survival but for enjoyment and that rush of adrenaline that overtook him every time an unsuspecting victim sits in the chair before him.

Todd flicked open his razor, the little click that it made as the blade set into place making his eyes glitter all the more like the killer he truly is. He tilted the blade this way and that, admiring the lightning flash on the silver for a moment before his gaze returned to his victim. The man was looking rather apprehensive, chewing his lower lip slightly.

"Biting your lip's a very bad habit, sir," Todd said, advancing towards the man.

"Y-yes, but I can't stop," the man stuttered.

"I can stop it for you," Todd barely whispered. He raised his arm and swung, the blade slicing through the air and ripping through the flesh on the man's neck. Blood gushed from the neat gash in the man's neck, coating the front of his shirt and the barber. The look of horror on the man's face as he died, eyes filled with terror bulging from their sockets, nostrils flared and mouth gaping. He tried to scream but only gargled, blood and spit frothing at his mouth and spilling over his chin.

The spray of blood had died down, slowing to only trickle over the man's chest. Todd lifted the corpse's chin with the tip of his razor to admire his handiwork. The slit was a neat line, quite deep, and as he lifted the chin higher the skin at the end of the cut tore, making the horrible sound of ripping flesh that made one grit his teeth.

But to Todd, the sound, the stench, the sight was all something that occurred on a regular basis—if he was lucky. Blood had become something beautiful to him, the crimson life that gushed out of the neck like a flood.

Todd pressed down on the pedal at his feet and watched as the chair slid back and waited until he heard the sickening crunch as the skull of the corpse smashed. Once the chair slid back into place Todd sat down. He took the slightly bloodied rag from his belt and wiped his razor clean with gentle hands. The razor shone in the flashing lightning and Todd stared at his reflection, at the gaunt face covered with fresh blood that he had spilt with his own hands.

"I am Death," the demon barber said in a dark tone. "I am Death and all will fear me."

What Sweeney Todd didn't know was that he would soon come to know death whether he wanted to or not.