I would like to thank my twinky-dink for putting this on her profile for me! You're totally awesome. Yes, 1ceinabluemoon, that's you! And thank you Obscure Bird for commenting on it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd.
A dull, glassy-eyed glare was all that Sweeney Todd could muster. A day full of slashing, hacking, and vengeance, and all he had to show for it was numerous crimson stains splattered around his room like Spackle. He had done if for so long, it was almost tedious. Day in and day out... people come in, but don't come out. Pies do.
"I want... I want what's coming to me..." he growled listlessly. Sweeney wanted for the judge's blood to spill out and run endlessly through his bloodstained fingers. He wanted it to warm up his lifeless body with the fires of revenge and fill him up with a sick ecstasy.
The judge would walk carelessly through the streets, almost as though he had not an enemy in the cruel world. Sweeney, on the other hand, would glare at him from a distance, not able to do a think about it. Several times he had considered just murdering him in the streets, showing the people what vengeance truly looked like. But, something always stopped him.
Between him and his true love, revenge, always seemed to be a glass wall. The judge had always had people behind him. A whole city perhaps.
"I've got a piemaker..." And he needed her. Th4e only person who truly supported him was the baker downstairs, endlessly taking in the mangled spawn of his love and turning it into something good, even rivaling her beauty perhaps.
"A gorgeous feast from a sinful hobby..."
"Oh, Mr. T..." Mrs. Lovett sighed, as she did every day, almost at least once ever hour. The oblivious barber never heard her sighs of devotion. All he ever heard was the insistent cry of that little voice in his head.
"Kill... kill... more bloody bodies and more bloody pies," she nearly chocked on her last words. All she was to him was the piemaker... his 'pet'. But, she wanted to be his wife... his lifelong companion that he could tell anything and everything. But he only loves what he cannot have without going behind the authorities.
A single tear slid down her face. The small piece of her soul tore itself away from her skin and landed in the dough she was kneading. That tear was the only thing that would ever show the world what she was feeling inside. To the spinning world, all she was was a happy piemaker, all too familiar with her feelings of unrequited love for the enigmatic barber. To her innermost soul, she was an unwanted worker bee in Sweeney's hive. All she did was take his works of gruesome art and turn them into morbid pies that feed all.
"I spread his cries of vengeance to others....