A/N: I only own the movie, characters, etc. in my head. Which apparentle isn't real life. Hmmph. Also, thanks to my Beta Amythista. She's the best. On with the story!
I can hear them, you know. Their voices penetrate the cold stone walls of the dreary place once known as my home and flow straight into my body, the last tatters of my soul. The voices are the only sounds that I hear. Not Mrs. Lovett, whose high-pitched voice grates in my ears, or Judge Turpin, whose voice is somehow pompous and oily at the same time. No, these voices are rich and velvety, smooth and calm, able to persuade me to do what they know I must do. They're always right. They say I should avenge Lucy. They say I must kill Turpin. And they say I must practice. So I shall. I will watch the crimson blood spatter the ground like a cold, emotionless painting. They have enlightened me, the voices. They know how to kill the sickening excuse for a man that is the Judge. And so I will be ready. And when I hear that voice like poisoned honey, with his attempt at flattery thinly veiling his slimy nature, I will strike. The silver razors will glint in the sun, and they will be the last thing he sees. The carved pattern on the handle will turn ruby, and it will be art. Artwork all because of me. Finally, all of London will know who I am, and what I am capable of doing. They cannot underestimate me. I will be remembered forever. And it's all because of the voices. They guide me through the days, until I will be victorious. And that day will be the most glorious day of all. That day, when I will finally punish the world for allowing my Lucy to die. That day, when all of England will see the injustices done to me. That day, when I will finally have my revenge. That day.
Why, that little green button looks awfully lonely. Someone should click on it, and keep its self-esteem high. Gso on, don't be shy. It'll appreciate the gesture…