A/N: Well, here it is after three or so months! I finally finished my Sweeney Todd fanfiction. I'm very happy with it, as I hope you will be too. To explain something, the second dream is based off a roleplay experience I had recently, though I wasn't the one roleplaying. I really don't have anything else to say.
If you find any spelling and gramatical errors, please notify me. I will change them as soon as possible.
Sweeney Todd and any other characters in this story do not belong to me. But I made up the guy with the eyebrows.
Two sets of footsteps echoed down the stairs and in through the thick door I'd left ajar. One was heavy and clumsy, as though the owner was intoxicated. The other was light and offbeat, probably meaning someone with a slight limp. A sharp twinge of fear hit me. Was it the judge with an official health inspector? No, Sweeney would never have let him past the door to the shop. He was watching the door, right? I sprinted to fetch a sheet to place over the beadle's corpse and started the meat grinder to remove as much evidence as possible in the short time I had. The footsteps at the door ceased and a creaking ensued. My arms pumped the crank faster and faster, nervous sweat trickling into my eyes. A familiar voice called and my heart sank in relief.
"Mrs. Lovett, are you there?" I turned as Mr. Todd stepped slowly in. Something about him was different. His blood-spattered shirt was still in a subtle state of disarray, his silver razor was open in his hand and his hair was as messy as usual, the white streak singing out in the coarse light.
"Yes, Mr. T?" I answered. He turned to me and a lopsided smile lit up his face. Then it hit me. He had been a dead man walking since he arrived in London by boat. His facial expressions were about as cheery as a mausoleum. But as of now, it appeared as though a huge shadow had been lifted from him. He held himself with the same air as he had before Judge Turpin sentenced him to 15 years in prison. Even his eyes seemed less like cold, black, and forgiving voids.
"Mr. Todd, what is it?" I asked again. "Did Judge Turpin arrive?" I checked the time. A quarter to midnight. He shook his head, still grinning wildly.
"Only one thing in the world could give me as much joy as to see the good judge tonight," a bit of the old fire burned in his eyes for a moment. "But I'm afraid I haven't yet had the pleasure to make his acquaintance this lovely evening."
Acquaintance? Lovely? Those were words rarely added to his vocabulary so sincerely. A small, gnarled hand appeared around the thick bake room door, and that's when I realized that all my work -my plans, everything- had been wasted in just one week. My heart sank to the floor in disappointment as a ragged bonnet with tendrils of yellow hair growing out of it like weeds peeked around the door following the hand.
"Mrs. Lovett, I believe you have lied to me," Mr. Todd rocked back on his heels, the now frightening smile never wavering.
"Lucy is still alive," he hissed, narrowing his eyes. Fear and adrenaline shot through me again as Sweeney raised his razor and took up a menacing stance. Lucy, who had brushed some of her hair to the side to reveal her once beautiful face made a sound like a dying cat.
"No, no, not lied at all. No I never lied! Said she took some poison, she did, but I never said that she died," I defended. Sweeney took step forward, and I took two steps back. I could now feel the intense heat from the oven on my back.
"Kill the witch! Kill the witch! She's the devil's wife!" Lucy shrieked. She'd moved to stand behind Mr. Todd. Without warning, the clock tolled 12. A desperate idea sprang to mind.
"Mr. T, you must hurry, Judge Turpin will be here any minute!"
His smile trembled, and then disappeared altogether. He snapped his razor shut and stood up straight. Giving Lucy a nod and me a warning glare, he ran out of the room and up the stairs. I sighed in relief. Lucy stared at me, making some sort of growling noise deep in her throat.
"What are you looking at?" I sneered, and turned to close the oven door. The growling noise grew higher pitched, until it became a prolonged shriek. Lucy flew at me before I even had a chance to turn around. My face hit the hard floor as she reached for my hair and started tugging as hard as she could. I struggled with her weight while still getting over the initial shock, but we both froze when we heard the clanging of gears and stared as Judge Turpin's body fell headfirst on the pile. I used this moment to buck Lucy off my back. She screeched as I pinned her arms down. Our eyes met for a moment and all I saw staring back at me was a hollow shell. Mr. Todd's footsteps slammed down the stairs and through the door and Lucy suddenly went limp. I almost felt relief that he would take this creature back to Bedlam. Instead, I only felt cold. Sweeney held his bloodied razor to my neck.
"Get up," he barked. I obliged. He led me backwards across the room, cornering me.
"Mr. T, I assure you that wasn't what it looked like."
He silenced me by pressing the blade closer. He whipped around me, still holding the razor out and backed slowly toward Lucy, who looked fairly smug.
"Not to worry, Mrs. Lovett. We'll be out of your hair now," he said, his face absolutely serious. He and Lucy were gone as quickly as they had arrived. Back to the upstairs flat, I supposed. Five minutes passed before I dared to breathe freely again. Weak and trembling, I slowly walked to the center of the room, right in front of the door, and collapsed. Tears streamed haphazardly down my face and sobs wracked my body as I hugged my knees to my chest. I continued to weep even as the scraping of metal on stone echoed across the room. It could've been Jack the Ripper and I wouldn't have cared. Let him kill me. I had nothing left to live for anyways.
"Mum?" I heard at the corner of my subconscious. A small hand was placed on my shoulder, hesitant at first.
"Toby?" I whimpered, then started to cry harder
"Yes, mum," the voice responded. I swallowed my tears and sighed.
"We could have had a great life."
"Mr. Todd was a bad man, mum," Toby said quietly. He sat cross legged and put my head in his lap. I drifted into sleep as he started humming.
I dreamt that Lucy's body fell through the door trapdoor, very soon after the beadles. I was dragging her over to the oven to burn the evidence when Mr. Todd came down the stairs. He recognized her immediately and blamed me. I pleaded my defense, and he held out his arms in forgiveness. We sang and danced round the bake house. Until, without warning, he missed a step, and as I tripped, he threw me into the wide open oven.
I awoke screaming and in a cold sweat. Toby was gone, replaced by a pillow and a blanket. Dim light seeped into the room from a faraway skylight. The oven was off and there were no bodies in sight, Lucy's or otherwise. Propping myself up on one elbow, I took another look around the room. No dried blood in the corner, no bodies in the meat grinder either. Had this all been a dream? Toby was nowhere to be seen, and my voice was too hoarse to call out for him. If this had been just a dream, and Mr. Todd had never arrived at my Fleet Street establishment, then how in God's name did I end up down here? I remembered something Toby sang to me once. Whistle I'll be there... his soft voice echoed through my mind. I gave it a try. Nothing happened. I whistled again, but louder. Sure enough, Toby came running into the cold bake room
"What is it, mum?" He huffed, his breath puffing white in the cold dawn. Seeing his face brought the entire weight of last night's happenings down on me. I took a deep breath, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
"Nothing, love," I got up, folded the blanket, and gave him the pillow. Side-by-side, we walked up the stairs and into the house. We put the pillow and blanket back on the bed and shuffled into the dreary shop.
"Got anything you want me to do, mum?" Toby asked, patting down his wrinkled shirt.
"Why don't you run down to the butchers and fetch me five pounds of meat for the pies?" I asked, handing him pouch of coins retrieved from my bodice. Once he was out of sight, I hung my head in exhaustion. I spent the rest of the morning making pies, rolling and kneading dough. Toby took a feather duster and cleaned the corners of the shop the moment he got back. Sometime around one in the afternoon, the bell on the door rang out. Excitedly, I rushed back to the counter, but my smile faded when I saw who it was. Anthony and another boy stopped dead when they saw my face.
"Excuse me, Mrs. Lovett, but is Mr. Todd around? We didn't see him in his shop…" Anthony asked tentatively. I didn't answer.
"Mum?" Antony was cut off as the bell rang again. This time, it was Mr. Todd and Lucy.
"Good morning, Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney smiled cheerily.
"Mr. Barker," I gave a curt nod.
"It's still Todd. And hello to you, Anthony!" Mr. Todd gave him a hug. The other boy stood awkwardly in the corner, trying to hide his face under his hat.
"Mr. Todd, you were just the person I wanted to see. It's about Johanna," Anthony glanced at Lucy, who was bent over, sniffing some of the pies I'd just baked.
"Johanna?" Mr. T's face grew serious.
"Where is she?"
Anthony beckoned for the other boy step forward. Sweeney's face turned morbidly angry.
" You…" He muttered, hand immediately finding the holster where he kept his razors. Anthony recoiled slightly, but still proceeded to remove the boy's cap. Long yellow hair fell around the boy's shoulders. Mr. T's face immediately switched to forgiving. Lucy was still wandering around the shop, smelling and or tasting various objects.
"Johanna?" He choked, his eyes glistening.
"Father?" The girl immediately flew at Sweeney. They embraced for several minutes. Anthony put his arm around Lucy with a look of satisfaction on his face. Lucy hissed and fled behind the counter. I finally snapped.
"That's it!" I shouted, ushering Lucy out from her hiding spot.
"Everybody out!"
Sweeney looked at me with hurt in his eyes, and I glared back with as much venom as I could muster. He gathered his group and submissively herded them upstairs. Toby ran in as the door closed.
"What's going on?" he shouted, out of breath.
"It's okay, love, just Mr. Todd," I sighed, taking a seat at one of the few indoor tables.
"Is he harassing you again? I'll kill that man, I swear!" Toby grabbed the meat cleaver I'd left on the counter and ran out the door.
"…Again…?" I whispered to myself, confused, but quickly snapped out of it and followed Toby up the stairs.
"Get back, all of you!" I heard from Toby as I neared the door. I saw him swinging the large knife around toward Mr. Todd.
"And you…."
"Tobias!" I called to him. He spun around, narrowly missing Johanna with the cleaver. Sweeney looked amused.
"Come back downstairs," I commanded, cheeks burning. He hesitated for a moment, but followed like a lost puppy dog when I gave him a stern glare.
"Toby, you can't keep doing things like that," I told him once we got back to the shop.
"Sorry, mum. I was only trying to do what I thought was right," he hung his head in shame.
"I know, dear, but if they catch you misbehaving, they might take you back to the work house. And we don't want that, now do we?"
"No mum, Toby looked up at me with sad eyes.
"That's my boy. Now how about you go off and sweep the floors?" I suggested. He got up eagerly at the prospect of pleasing me and ran to get the broom and dust pan. The rest of the afternoon brought little change, and little sunlight. Rain started falling as I closed up shop early at 7:30. I retired at eight, exhausted from a long day of baking and regretting. Toby was left to clean up, and hopefully not kill Mr. Todd while I slept.
Sleep didn't come easy. My head kept churning out different scenarios and possibilities. At one point, I had the absurd thought that if I apologized to Mr. Todd, maybe he would forgive me and send Lucy back to Bedlam. Then we could live happily ever after, by the sea with no one to question us about our previous affairs. I was half tempted to do so, but then reason kicked in. He would never let that hag out of his sight again for as long as he lived, no matter how much I tried to persuade him. They had 15 years to catch up on. And now that they had found Johanna and Judge Turpin was out of the way, they could really have the perfect ending. But where did that leave me? Kicked out onto the street like useless cur. Widowed, and with a failing business. The money earned from last night could never sustain the shop, what with the price of good meat these days. And I could no longer rely on Mr. Todd for supplies. It'll be hard to beat human pies, I can be certain of that. And now I have Toby to feed….
Finally, sleep found me, heavy and dull. Toby crawled under the sheets sometime in the middle of the night, whimpering something about ghosts. I woke up, still tired. Toby was gone, and the sheets lay splayed on the floor, probably where I'd kicked them. I shivered. The weather was getting quickly colder, a sign of a harsh winter to come. I dragged myself up, made the bed, and got dressed. I was putting my hair up when I saw Toby sitting at a table with a pensive look on his face. There was a letter in front of him with fancy cursive scrawled on it.
"Morning, mum!" Toby greeted when he saw me. I nodded to him, narrowing my eyes.
"What have you got there, Toby?" I asked. He looked down at the note, then back to me.
"It's a letter that I found under the door this morning. It reads: 'Dean Mn squiggly line Lonett, d am squiggly line ad to tell you that d will be learning for a week. Anthony and something that looks like a bow…" He turned the paper this way and that, trying to decipher the writing. Finally, I just took it from him.
"Dear Mrs. Lovett, I am sad to tell you that I will be leaving for a week. Anthony and Johanna have decided to move to America and Lucy and I will be accompanying them to the dock to see them off. If anyone wanders into your shop wondering where I am, please tell them I went to New Haven. Sincerely, Sweeney Todd." I didn't read the postscript out loud, thinking Toby would take it the wrong way. Be careful.
I heard the creaking of wood, and saw a sturdy man with a round face tromping up the stairs.
"Excuse me sir!" I called, running to the open the door. He stopped and turned, sneering at me.
"What do you want?" He growled. His voice was thick like molasses. I was taken aback by the hostility inflicted in his tone.
"Are you going up to see Mr. Todd?"
" Yes. Why?" He raised a fuzzy eyebrow in suspicion
"He's left, sir, gone down to New Haven. But he'll be back next week." The man dropped both his eyebrows and grumbled, stomping back down the stairs and back around the street corner.
That was odd… I thought, stepping back into the shop with a shiver. Toby was cleaning out the cupboards. Several roaches scuttled out the door. I closed it, disgusted, and went to put on a coat. When I came back out, there was a person staring in through the window. I slowly went to open the door.
"Can I help you?" I asked. The person turned slowly, not wanting to take their eyes off whatever was so captivating inside. They looked at me, then at a carriage across the road, and then stepped inside, muttering something unintelligible. They hobbled over to the table Toby was now sitting at and took a seat across from him. I grabbed a pie from the stack on the counter and a plate. But right as I was about to turn to give it to the person, I heard a thump and a squeal of surprise from Toby. I swiveled sharply only to see an upturned table and Toby lying on the floor, holding his arm and whimpering. The mysterious person was gone. Toby looked up at me, tears filling his eyes.
"She bit me…" He whispered.
"There, there, dear. Let me see it," I bent down and reached for his arm. He recoiled at first, but after a moment, let me see it. Blood welled in an uneven crescent shape just past his wrist.
"It's only a flesh wound, love. Let me get you some bindings for it," I gave him his arm back and scoured my drawers. Once I had found the appropriate cloth, I went back to him and wrapped it around the cut. He winced but looked grateful. I up-righted the table (with much difficulty) and sat Toby down.
"Can I ask you a question, mum?" He asked as I set a pie down in front of him.
"What is it, darling?" His tone worried me. He paused in thought for a moment, turning his pie over and over on the plate.
"What really went on with Mr. Todd? I mean, I had my assumptions, but I never really got the whole story," he said after a minute.
"You want the whole story?" I looked at him and with raised eyebrows. He nodded.
"Well, it all started about 15 years ago." I sighed and sat down across from him. "Back before I had this pie shop. He lived here, with his wife, Lucy. Oh, they were the golden couple back then, they were. Me and Albert lived across the way little. I had a meager establishment, not one to be proud of. Mr. Todd had his barbershop in here. This was their flat, the whole thing. Caught the eye of many a businessman, but they wouldn't sell. Now, you know Judge Turpin, right? He had his eye on Lucy, and when he wanted something, he got it. So one day, when she and Mr. Todd were at the market, he had the poor barber arrested on a false charge. He was sent to prison for 14 years, I think it was. But he wasn't Sweeney Todd back then. No, back then he was Benjamin Barker.
"Lucy did not take this news lightly. She eventually had to sell the shop. I took that as a great opportunity, being as how Fleet Street usually gets a lot of business. Lucy and I actually became quite good friends. I helped her care for her child, Johanna, and in turn she helped me care for my ailing husband, who died soon after. Then one day, Judge Turpin had grown weary of waiting for Lucy to come to him, and he ordered her to his house on the night of his big masquerade ball. Oh, the things that went on in that house on that night are too horrible to even imagine. Lucy ran into my shop, sobbing. A few days went by, and then something very curious happened. Lucy came downstairs right as I was closing up, Johanna in her arms. She went up to me, handed me the child, said 'tell him I couldn't wait any longer,' and ran out. I followed her, of course, down to the apothecary. She'd purchased some sort of poison, and was about to drink it. I tried to stop her, but she could not be persuaded, and I couldn't do much with a baby in my arms. She ran down into the tunnel leading to Bell-yard just as Judge Turpin came round the bend. Turns out he saw Lucy walking down the street without Johanna and got worried. He found me with the child and took her back to his house. I meandered back to my shop, confused and wondering what I was to do next. I sold my pies for 9 or so years before Mr. Barker showed up again. He wandered into my shop one afternoon, but he didn't look at all like himself. The life had gone from him. I let him set up shop upstairs. That was around the time we picked you up."
"And what really happened to Signor Pirelli?" Toby asked.
"From what I know, he was blackmailing Mr. Todd, and ended up dead in a trunk, his face smashed in with a teakettle. That's when we came up with the brilliant idea to start putting people in the pies. Mr. Todd would slit their throats in the shop -just a few here and there, nobody who would be missed- and then I would bake them in into pies and sell them to the general public. It's actually a pretty brilliant business scheme, if you ask me." Toby shuddered at the thought.
"So I was right all along…" He muttered
"Put on a coat deary, you're going to catch a cold," I said, changing the subject.
Nobody else came that day. I guessed the pies had simply lost their appeal with the public. Rain started falling around the time we closed up shop, leaving Fleet Street eerily deserted. In the two days that followed our run-in with the crazy old woman, only a couple people bought pies. The next two brought no business whatsoever. On the third day since Mr. Todd's leave, I was becoming anxious. Not only was the money beginning to run thin, but this was the longest I'd gone without seeing Sweeney since he returned. On the fourth night, an odd dream came to visit me as I lay wide awake, waiting for sleep to come in its usual sporadic sense.
I was making pies in the kitchen and Mr. Todd was sitting contemplatively at the booth. I walked over to hand him his pie, when suddenly he grabbed my wrist. Standing up, he brought his hand to my sleeve slowly, tracing the contours of my elbow as he passed. It was a surprisingly realistic sensation, one that brought chills down my spine. He'd never ventured to touch me in this way before, so softly, so tenderly. I looked into his eyes for any clue as to what this was all about, but instead of the usual blackness, I saw a sort of clear light, which threw me off.
"Remember how you were talking about living by the sea? Just the two- I mean three of us?" he asked me, grasping my other hand in his. I blinked, nodding. Where on Earth was he going with this?
"Well, I was thinking... maybe... we could make that work...?"
I tilted my head, unable to make sense of the words he had just said to me. Was he still speaking English?
"All I'm really trying to say is... Mrs. Lovett, will you marry me?"
I couldn't believe my ears. My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I tried to speak, but my entire vocabulary had just been annihilated. Mr. T smiled and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. Initially surprised by the sudden onslaught of luck which had just fallen upon me, it took me a moment to respond, but I hugged back equally as tightly. It was very nice, to say the least. Words could not describe the feeling his slowly moving chest gave me.
Suddenly, he pulled away, leaving his hands resting on my bare shoulders, making me ecstatic that I had chosen to wear this dress today. He looked into my eyes with the same searching expression he uses when he misplaces his lather. His eyebrows shot up, then down again. Without warning, he leaned in to kiss me, and I did not object in the least. In fact, I returned it with twice as much vigor. Emotions ran rampant through my body, sending strange new sensations throughout me. I nearly began to weep, as these were such overpowering feelings of which I had never encountered before, especially not with Albert. He tugged away from me for a moment and gave me a look that seemed to ask "is this right?" but I wasn't done with him yet, and I soon had him up against the shop window, biting his lip with exuberance. Suddenly everything seemed to flip around and I was left with a sickening pit in my stomach. I opened my eyes to see myself, rushing at me full-speed-ahead. It only took me a moment to realize that I was now looking at the world through Sweeney's eyes. An unnatural fear began to slice through me as the other me kept at it. I was suddenly filled with memories of Lucy and Johanna, the sort of memories that would cause any man to want revenge on the one who stole that almost unreal life from them. And I realized that I was his last option for real happiness. Maybe not real happiness, like he had with Lucy and Johanna, but certainly something better than what he had now. And then I understood why he readily went with Lucy even after all the time I had spent trying to get him to like me. I finally had an understanding of him, and I was ready to let go of my jealous thoughts and support him and Lucy. I sighed, slightly roused from my slumber, and vowed to do that in the morning. Upon rolling over, the dream I had encountered from a few nights ago reared its ugly head again. Though this time, something seemed different. I was half expecting a much happier outcome, one where we danced blissfully until morning, for the oven door was closed this time. I was not so lucky. Out of the blue, Toby appeared just as Mr. Todd was about to bring me into a dip. He snarled, dropped me, and ran over to poor Toby, razor at its ready. My head hit the floor, stunning me, but when my vision became normal, I saw Mr. T looming over me, a hideous grin on his face. The grin turned into a sweet smile, and he bent down to kiss my cheek. I smiled back up at him, but the grin had returned and he grabbed me by the throat, Toby's blood still warm on his hands. I kicked and screamed, but he was too strong for me, and my feeble efforts were useless. He lifted me up as I spluttered for help, opened the oven door and threw me inside. I saw red flames swirling around me, and whatever lesson that'd been learned from the previous dream was now lost among the fire. I awoke, sweat dappling my forehead and tried to calm myself with a small tumbler of gin, but only ended up falling asleep at the table. Toby woke me up with a mug of coffee and a shawl to wrap around my freezing shoulders. I drained the coffee, nearly burning my tongue, and went back to work. On the sixth day of his leave, I had to keep myself from going mad. Theories kept popping up in my mind, shouting absurd thoughts.
"What if he moved his shop without telling you?" one said.
"What if he decided to move to America?" another pestered.
"No, he couldn't have. He left his picture of Lucy and Johanna up there," I replied to both.
"Maybe he did that so you wouldn't know?" something else put in.
"Maybe he left because he thinks you're too clingy?" another interrupted.
I tried to ignore them, but one of their conspiratorial suggestions just wouldn't leave me alone.
"What if he's dead?"
The suggestion left me shaken.
Finally, the seventh day came. All my misgivings from the night before dissolved and I buzzed happily around the shop, trying to make everything spick and span for Mr. T. Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks.
"What the Hell am I doing?" I asked myself.
"Mr. Todd is with Lucy now." My excitement fizzled.
"Toby, son, where are you?" I called, setting down a broom. I'd been so involved in my fantasies, I'd forgotten he existed. I heard coughing from his room and immediately grew worried. I walked in and gasped. His face was pale and shining with sweat, and he was cocooned in the blanket, shivering. His eyes were dull and his hair was a mess.
"Do you need me, Mrs. Lovett?" He wheezed, preparing to get up.
"No, no, darling. That's all right, I have it covered," I put him back down and left to find another blanket for him. He ended up following me, the flannel he already had wrapped around his shoulders like a cape.
"I wanted to get up anyways, mum," he sniffled. I agreed to let him sit in the shop and watch, but I refused to let him help me. By noon, small flakes of snow begin to drift down. People walked carefully along the sleet-slick road, nary a one stopping to look at my shop. Suddenly Toby started coughing worse than he had all day. He got up, dropped the blanket, and pressed his face to the window.
"What is it, Toby?" I asked, dropping my rolling pin on the counter. He coughed in response. Out the window I saw a familiar body standing solemnly across the street, staring at the sign of my pie shop. And he was alone. My heart began pounding like a blacksmith's hammer and I ran out into the freezing winter air. The figure turned slightly when saw me slipping across the street to him. But he didn't move. Without warning, my foot caught on a dislodged stone and I was sent tumbling to the slick road. Dizzy and numb, I felt warm hands help me to my knees and looked up to see a dark face.
"Mr. Todd… Where's Lucy?" it took me a moment to collect my thoughts.
"She fell in to the water at New Haven. We searched and searched for hours, but she was nowhere to be found-" snow crunched behind us. I turned see Toby standing barefoot on the ice.
"Toby where are your shoes?" I asked him sternly. But he only ran a sleeve under his nose and coughed. Mr. Todd helped me up, and then suddenly pushed me away. I stumbled backwards until I finally caught my balance against the wall of my shop. Only then did I notice the slowly gathering crowd of by-standers. And the meat cleaver Toby held in his hand. By now, Toby had the cleaver raised against Mr. Todd. Fear burned brightly in his eyes, and anger lit Toby's.
"Tobias Ragg! What in God's name do you think you're doing?" I shouted. His answer was lost as a cracking sound like gunfire rang through the street.
"Look out!" Someone shouted from down the street. All heads turned to see a horse and carriage sliding along the road. Mr. Todd tried to make a run for it, but Toby swung the cleaver, catching his leg. He fell to his knees in pain. I tried to run to him, but someone near grabbed my shoulder, shaking their heads sadly. I could only watch helplessly as the animal broke free, sending the carriage barreling down the path, still upright, but teetering precariously. I tried to shout to Toby, but all that left my lips was a pitiful puff of air. He cocked the cleaver back, ready to swing, and our eyes met. Then I covered mine. I could hear several shrieks from the crowd and two sickening thumps, along with the squeaking of wheels and splintering of wood. A distressed horse whinnied, and then a pregnant silence spread through the street. I parted my fingers and blinked away tears, afraid of what I would see.
My suspicions were almost correct. Mr. Todd was curled into a ball on his side. Toby lay face up a little further off. The carriage had tipped over and was wrecked into a building. Everything was still, as though it was some sort of horrible picture. I tore away from the crowd, blinded by sorrow and tears. I ran straight to Mr. T and knelt by his head, not noticing the cold biting through my dress.
"Mr. Todd…" I whispered, my voice quivering. Snow fell on his still body. Somewhere behind us, some people gathered around Toby's corpse. From where I sat, I could see the cleaver which had lodged itself handle first in Toby's stomach.
"Mrs. Lovett?" The hoarse reply sent relief rushing through me.
"Oh, Mr. Todd, how did I let this happen?"
"It wasn't your fault, my love," he coughed, shaking his head. I noticed the large bruise beginning to form on his forehead. He suddenly cringed, grabbing his leg. I quickly tore a strip of cloth from my dress and tried to suppress the bleeding. He nudged my hands away.
"Don't," he whispered. I bit my lip to try to keep from breaking down right then and there.
"Well at least now you can be with Lucy," I attempted to console him. My breathing was ragged. He tried to smile, but it quickly faded. His eyes widened, as though he had seen a ghost. The narrow hand reached down before I knew what was going on, and I only saw the razor too late. My head sprung back involuntarily as blood speckled my face. Mr. Todd's visige was locked in fear as blood bubbled out of the newly made gash in his throat. It only took me a moment to figure out who the hand belonged to. By the time I had, she held the disgustingly warm razor to my neck.
A/N: It doesn't end here! I made two alternate endings, so you can choose which one you would like to read next, or just keep going and read them both in whatever order they end up.
