Well if you've come back for more - thank you very much! I must apologise for the absence of Todd in this chapter; this is really just so I can get to the next bit, so please bear with me - it is all important, I promise! In the next chapter we will be back with Todd, but I hope you enjoy this chapter in the mean time.
I forgot the disclaimer last time, but just for clarification: I do not own Todd, Mrs Lovett or any other 'Sweeney Todd' character, however Mary and Lampitt are completely my own creations. I would also like to thank Mr Burton and Mr Depp for giving us one of the best characters we've seen in a long time Thank you!
The heels on Mary's shoes scraped over the wet cobbles as she squeezed the drenched parchment between her fingers, cold as they were. The streets were empty. She saw not a soul as she made the deceptively long walk to her pimp's hovel; a tight noose of guilt tied firmly around her neck.
She could smell the fumes of Opium from the top of the rat-infested lane. Heavy beads of rain pelted down on top of her uncovered head as she stared inanely along the row of shop-fronts. The one facade that hid behind the rest was the one her eyes fixed on. She unscrewed the piece of paper gripped between her white digits and glared at the address: 97 Tudor Street.
Mary swallowed dryly; the road seeming to elongate before her every time she took a step forward. Her heart thumped dangerously in her ears, even as the bells of St Dunstan chimed their garish song.
The door was suddenly within her reach. She never expected it to exist despite the number of times she had carried-out her services within the fetid rooms. Dim light flickered from the burned-down candles placed throughout the front room: no attempt had been made to veil the smoking faction from the outside world – as Mary could see, peering though the filthy, scummy window.
The thick air hit her lungs the moment she dared to step inside. She hesitated, trying to inhale any oxygen that may be left within the building: nothing came. She drew in a breath nonetheless and gagged as it struck the back of her throat. She had never been able to stand the stench of Opium, particularly when regulars insisted on smoking it over her.
Her feet brought her to the main parlour, pushing through the heavy smoke and insipid light. The echoes of Todd's words still stabbed at Mary's skin, bringing sweat prickling to the surface. It was only when her eyes fell on the whoremonger that the words sunk further into her flesh: it crawled with the sight of him. His pathetic form sprawled out over a velvet couch; entirely vulnerable to anyone with a passing fancy. Mary sneered at the room full of social drug-addicts – most of them having been a client of hers in the past.
Mary stood over the couch, defying all temptation to smash-in the face of the sleeping body instantly. Her fingers traced the black tray of ashes beside the shadow as she considered its power as a weapon, but still she returned to the cool sensation of steel pressing against her stomach. Perhaps this is how Todd felt as he towered over his victims; entirely powerless as they recline in the leather chair, unaware as the barber slips a silver blade from his belt, a gentle smile gracing his lips, before he lets their lifeblood flow from their bare necks with one swift jerk. She heard now the last few choking gasps as they shuddered from their bodies. She was sliding ever-further into his psyche.
Reality shot through to Mary as the shadow began to stir. Her hand dropped away from the Laudanum bottle and hovered over where the knife was buried in her skirt.
The candle flame flickered angrily over dead eyes as they opened to see her. Sweat from fevered dreams stained the cushion as he stared at the young prostitute for what seemed like hours.
'Mary...?' Lampitt's voice was rough and strained. He ran a thick tongue over his lips. 'Why are you here? No one has asked for you...'
The pimp began to struggle to his feet, his hand reaching for stability, his legs buckling under fifteen stone of blubber. Mary took a smooth step backwards so his hand missed grabbing her by an inch. She glanced around at the other smokers as Lampitt's mood grew darker; nothing could have woken them, they were all too far gone to notice anything.
'What the hell do you think you're doing here? How dare you disturb me!' His fist gripped her bare collar viciously as he pulled her across the room. 'I've told you before that I am not to be disturbed! I come to you – not the other way round!'
A hand clouted her sharply across the face. She felt the doorframe connect with her spine as the force of the slap drove her back further. Lampitt's breath left hot spittle on Mary's face as he pressed her against the wall, his mouth sneering over her skin.
For a moment he stopped his ranting and paused, a wary expression slowly covering his features. He dropped his nose to her neck and inhaled.
'You smell of shaving oils...You've been with that bastard Todd haven't you?' His head inclined slowly. 'Did he tell you to come here?'
Mary stayed voiceless; her eyes focused resolutely on the dense window.
'DID HE TELL YOU TO COME HERE?!' Phlegm choked up from his throat as he screamed. She watched him gob it onto the floor next to her feet before returning to her eyes. Still she said nothing, but stared now fixatedly on his shadowed face. Lampitt narrowed his glare.
'Why did he send you here? What does he want?'
Mary said nothing.
'Answer me bitch!' He swung his palm across her face for a second time and strengthened his grip on her neck. Her face turned slowly back to his.
'He wants to give you an answer...'
Lampitt frowned.
'An answer to what?'
'Apparently you made him an offer -' Her cheeks had gained some colour, rather than being the bleak ashen they usually were. Lampitt felt a chill skitter up his spine, but still he managed a grin.
'I knew he'd come round – he's not a stupid man.'
Gradually, Mary's pale lips twisted into an eerie smile.
'You're right – he's not.'
She felt his left hand begin to hitch up her thin skirt as he held her against the wall; his fingers prying at her undergarments.
'I have to admit Mary; I'm gonna miss you – you were one of my finest whores...'
As Lampitt's greasy lips pressed themselves hard against her own, Mary jerked the knife into his bloated stomach.
She ripped away her lips as his breath was cut short. He seemed unable to comprehend the warmth flooding his torso as Mary lifted the blade and eased it further into his gut, cutting through the thick fat. Lampitt's mouth gaped open and closed as he looked down at the knife, a shaking hand hovering over the gash. He was vaguely aware that Mary had pulled out the blade and was wiping it on his shirt. Her lips were at his ear as he stumbled backwards, back towards the couch.
He heard words whispered gently to him as he felt the spongy tissue of his stomach come away in his hand.
'His answer was 'no'-'
Mary let him drop onto the couch where she had found him, before turning her back and padding from the room.
Faint murmured gasps followed after her as she closed the heavy door; London's putrid air hitting her hard in the face. Even once she'd made it to the end of Tudor Street, the rich, coppery smell of fresh blood was still strong in her head.
Next Chapter: Mrs Lovett ain't too happy with Todd's new friend...