A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I, the Ibis, have returned from my piles of schoolwork to bring you a new story! So, on Halloween, I was watching Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (because, you know, nothing screams "Halloween" more than a singing, serial-killing Johnny Depp), and, while I instantly loved it to death, I did have one problem: what was up with that ending? It felt much too abrupt for me. And since I can't travel back in time to have Tim Burton make it longer, here a fanfic on what might have happened had the stories of Toby, Anthony, and Johanna continued.
P.S. MASSIVE SPOILERS IN THIS!
Chapter 1: A Drop of Spilled Blood
Toby ran up the hard stone stairs of the bakehouse, the only sound the soft "drip, drip, drip" of Mr. Todd's blood as it fell slowly upon the dead woman's face, the ghastly couple still and silent and growing farther and farther away. He tried to stop his head from spinning and keep his mind focused on what had just happened. He had just killed the Demon Barber of Fleet Street, the murderer of Mrs. Lovett, Signor Pirelli, and Lord knows how many others.
People would notice Mrs. Lovett's absence tomorrow morning, and no doubt once they discovered the multiple bodies downstairs, the authorities would be brought in faster than he could say "hot pies". Which meant he had to leave the shop at once, and never return. He would climb up the stairs to Mr. Todd's barber shop, and make his escape through the window. It wouldn't be the first time he'd walked over rooftops.
It was a sound plan, except for one flaw: Toby had a bloody knife in his pocket and the blood of a dead man literally on his hands. Even in a place as large as London and dodgy as Fleet Street, that would certainly attract suspicion. He had to get rid of it before he fled.
Toby remembered that there was a basin of water in the barber shop upstairs, where Mr. Todd would wash his hands free of shaving cream (and, in retrospect, also blood). He could wash off his hands there.
He dashed up the steps, his hands trembling at his sides. He looked down, and stopped. He was still holding Mr. Todd's razor, and a small piece of his anger left him. A few moments ago, it had been the weapon of his revenge against the barber. Now it was only a reminder of his terrible deed.
Toby raised his arm and flung the razor high into the air, and could the small sound of its impact on the pavement of West Fleet Street. 'Let it lie there for eternity, or else be washed into the Thames.' He thought bitterly. 'I hope to high heaven that it will never do another evil, by me or anyone else.'
He entered the barber shop, and immediately saw the basin. He would have gone straight to it, had it not been for one problem.
Someone was already standing over it.
Toby cursed himself for tossing the razor away, when he might needed only a minute later. He hoped he'd be lucky and not find himself confronting another killer.
"Who are you?" He yelled.
The figure jumped, and turned around in fright. It was a tall, lanky boy in worker's clothes, with a small build and an effeminate face. He raised his hands slowly, eyeing Toby with something almost like terror.
"M-my name is Johanna." He stuttered. "And you have to help me."