I've reread my old Sweeney stories and decided I needed to redeem myself. I don't know about you, but I found many things I needed to improve on. Especially Sickened Soul, but I am not going to rewrite that. No siree, I had enough of rewriting. This is pretty much a collection of oneshots about the cruelty of men, which is as wondrous as Peru…and how they paid the price.

"I'm sorry, Father, I'm sorry!"

The pitiful cries pricked Sweeney Todd's ears. He raised an eyebrow as he slunk towards his window. At the foot of the stairs there was a tiny, frail girl cowering in the shadows of a towering man. Garnet blood was trickling from her button nose, and tears gushed out of her bruised eyes.

The man struck her across the head with his gloved hand. "Shut up, you bag of muck. Stop that awful sniveling, it's giving me a headache."

The little girl whimpered and struggled to end her flow of tears, but failed. The man tersely grabbed a handful of her yellow hair and wrenched her up until her tiny feet dangled above the ground. She shrieked and sobbed, begging her father to stop.

"You worthless shit," he growled. "I rue the day you were born." He flung her to the ground, dusting his hands off as if he just dealt with a slime-covered hog. "Now don't you dare move an inch. I'm getting myself a shave and then we'll finally see that workhouse manager."

Boiling fury surged in Mr. Todd's blood. What kind of father was that man? His entire body stiffened and burned with unquenchable rage. The man was a monster, a filthy, disgusting monster. How dare he beat and humiliate her in front of London? At that thought, Mr. Todd clenched his teeth and balled his fists. All of London didn't even care about the girl. They just ambled along to fulfill their own agendas.

Mr. Todd's eyes flickered down for a moment to the little girl before she disappeared behind the stairs. Yellow hair. She had the exact shade of gold as Lucy and Johanna. Before he knew it, hatred and vehement clutched Mr. Todd's heart and wrung it, squeezing all the fury and abhorrence into his blood. His mind suddenly pictured Lucy or Johanna being abused like that, and Mr. Todd immediately forgot about anything else except that everyone deserved to die. Especially him.

A red glint sparked his dark eyes for a moment as the man traipsed up the wooden stairs, adjusting his bowler hat smartly. Mr. Todd breathed deeply before professionally admitting the man inside the shop.

"Good afternoon, sir," he greeted through gritted teeth. "How may I pamper you?"

"Just a shave, and make it quick," snapped the man as he tossed his hat to the coat rack, which nearly hit Mr. Todd in the process. "I've got an important appointment to attend soon, and I'd rather not miss it."

"Oh?" said Mr. Todd, lathering the thick white paste over the man's chin. His entire mind craved for spilt blood. He was practically trembling with anticipation. The blade was right in his holster; he could just do it now…

Patience, my friend, he urged both his razor and himself. How can you take joy in revenge if it doesn't last?

"With the workhouse manager. It's about time my petty child did something worthwhile for this family. All she does is take our food and clothes, she might as well earn it."

Mr. Todd glared at the man's finely trimmed jacket and the velvety bowler hat. This man was the last person who needed to worry about money and food.

"Well, I heard the workhouse was a dangerous place for children," Mr. Todd said calmly, though he felt far from serene. He flicked out the razor, the silver gleam grinning back at him with shrewdness. "I heard stories about children's limbs snapping off because of the machines."

"That's precisely what I'm hoping for," the man grumbled. Mr. Todd froze in mid-shave, his muscles rigid with loathing. He gripped so tightly on the blade's handle that his knuckles turned ashen.

"Oh, don't you fret, sir," Mr. Todd chuckled, his voice dripping with mockery. "You won't be late at all for your appointment…with the devil."

The man's eyes flipped wide open in shock as Mr. Todd offered a sardonic smirk. He opened his mouth to utter a bloodcurdling scream, but didn't have the chance. Mr. Todd flung the razor right into his throat. Cascades of sanguine gushed from the wound as the man gurgled and choked, clawing desperately to dislodge the blade. Frothy blood and saliva spewed from his mouth as he sputtered desperately for life. Mr. Todd watched with a cynical grin as the man's frightened eyes clouded and his fingers remained frozen at his throat. Mr. Todd lazily jerked the blade from his patron's throat, tucking it back into its cozy nest.

"F-father?" stammered the slight voice outside. "Are you all right?" Padded footsteps were heard climbing the stairs. Mr. Todd narrowed his eyes.

The body was discarded long before the child stepped into the barbershop.

What are your thoughts? Please tell me.