I thought I'd try my hand at a Sweeney Todd fic, and I wondered what Lucy/the beggar woman might have been thinking when confronting Sweeney. Rated for a small bit of violence.
- - -
Do I Know You?
- - -
"Who are you?" demands the barber in front of me. He has a haunted look in his eye, a tormented, angry expression. Life has been cruel to him, just as it has been to me. Life beggin' on the streets is a hard one, but it is all I know. It is all I remember. Yet there is something… something peculiar about his face, his blades that are familiar to me. Perhaps he is a memory long forgotten. Perhaps he is from a dream.
But that is not why I have come to this place. I came to warn this barber. I must warn him about that witch, the devil's wife. She brews her spawn below, making that awful stench. It is a stench from Hell it is! I plead with the barber to beware, to be rid of that witch. But my pleas are in vain. The barber is tensed, and his blade twirls in his hand. But I try again, he must know of her evil! Only mischief will come from that evil woman! He must know this. Mischief, only mischief!
I must protect him from her. I know that I must. She has kept me from him for ages, sending her servant boy to shoo me away. I come back though. I will always come back. Something stirs deep within me as I look at him. A powerful feeling… Yes… I must know him. But… how do I know him? I blink as I run my weary eyes over him, my grimy hands fiddling with my tattered attire. He has a sharp, devilish gleam of rage embedded in his stare, but still I struggle to recollect his face from a place before.
"Do I know you?" I ask softly.
He will know. He would remember me. I wait for his answer, and barely comprehend when the cold piece of metal quickly cuts across my throat silent as the wind, spilling my blood onto my skirts. I have no time to understand that I am falling down a dark, horrible pit and even less time to realize that after meeting the cold ground with a bone-shattering thump, that I know no more.
