Hooray. A first chapter. Are you so filled with joy that you can hardly contain it? No? Me neither.
It's poorly written and intensely short. But, hey, it's fanfiction. That is to be expected.
Not much happens here, guys….
A large ship stopped in a murky dock. On board, a young man with long brown hair stepped onto the bow. He sighed.
"I have sailed the world and beheld it's many wonders, from the likes of the Dardanelles to the breathtaking view atop the mountains of Peru, but there is no place like London."
Another man stepped out from the shadows behind him. "No, there's no place like London." He said coldly.
The younger man looked concerned.
"Mister Todd?" he asked. Mister Todd looked back upon the gloomy, gray city below, almost to ignore him.'
"You are young, Antony. This world has been kind to you. You will learn." Mister Todd murmured something under his breath while walking down the board walk onto the cold streets of London.
"I too have been around the world, Antony. But the cruelty people show you here far passes any of that." He shuddered.
"These streets are filled with ghosts." Antony turned to him expectantly "Ghosts, Mister Todd?"
"Memories from the past." Mister Todd turned away, and began to examine the streets before them. "once, Antony," he began, catching the young man's attention again.
"there was a barber and his wife." He paused, and looked down. "she was….his purpose and meaning in everything he did. She was beautiful. But there was another man who saw this, Antony. A judge. He sent the barber away, and…."
"and what, Mister Todd? Did she fall for it? The wife?"
He swallowed hard. "that was so long ago, Antony. I doubt that any one knows…" He looked back up to Antony. "I'm lucky you found me out there. If not for you, I'd still be lost at sea."
Antony smiled "yes, yes. These past few days, I've come to think of you as a friend, Mister Todd. Do you think I will ever see you again?"
Mister Todd took a step forward. "yes… around fleet street, I'd imagine."
/
I took another step forward on the craggy, corroded ground. I'd been walking for hours, and I was getting extremely exhausted. I could see a dock up ahead, though. One belonging to that of my glorious destination called London. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I'd just spent an hour literally wringing people's necks. Could god not cut me a little slack?
Seems not.
I wandered further and further into London. It didn't seem as wonderful as I remembered it being on my last visit. It seemed gray…and cold.
I wandered around aimlessly for a bit, just taking in the sights. Nothing seemed to jump out at me. Ah, well. I was here to hide. I needed to find a place to stay overnight.
My stomach growled. I was famished from walking all those miles. Before loft, I needed to find something to eat. lots of something to eat.
There were a few fruit stands around, but what caught my eye was a tiny, little shop nestled into a cranny at the end of the street.
Mrs Lovett's Meat pie shop
I felt myself drool a bit. Real meat? In the middle of London? What a joke. But, it was worth a shot.
I felt my feet desperately carrying me towards my source of food. But I wasn't watching where I was going.
Smack!
I felt myself falling. I hit the ground with a thud. I shook my head and opened my eyes. A rather displeased looking man was staring down at me.
"s-sorry, sir! M'lord! My apologies! My deepest, sir!" I whimpered in my best boy voice. He shook his head.
"shit bag." He grunted.
I sprung up, appalled. "excuse me, sir?"
"Shit. Bag." He said a bit louder. I rolled my eyes.
"you too, sir…whatever you mean."
He exhaled unhappily, and reached for the door handle. I gulped. He was going in there, too?
Okay, maybe this place was legit.
No sooner had the door been opened, did the lady manning the till run to it.
"Customers?" she yelled frantically, grabbing us both by the arms, and throwing us into chairs at a small table. "One moment! What's the rush, sirs? No hurry! You scared me half to death!" The man beside me tried to get up.
"Sit!" she yelled insistently, shooting him a dirty look. He did as he was told.
She ran back up to the oven. " 'aven't seen a customer for weeks, y'know?" she pulled a tray of fresh pies from the oven. "I've been trying, I swear, but these are quite possibly the worst pies in London."
Okay, maybe this place isn't legit.
She turned again. "take a bite, sirs?" she offered. We did.
It was like a thousand rabbit cats threw up and died in my mouth. It was terrible. But food. I took another bite.
It seemingly only contained two things: corn flour and pork gristle. But I may be wrong. It could have been lard, too. I tried to sustain my gag reflex.
The lady gave me a look of pity. " 'scustin' ain't it?" she poured two cups of ail and handed them to us. We chucked them back immediately.
"y'know," she continued, "my competitor up the street there, Mrs. Mooney, I hear she is makin' her pies out of cats. Makes you sick, don't it?"
I reluctantly shook my head.
"but,"
Oh god, she was still talking.
"I do try. But it's hard for a woman alone, y'know." She tried to look forlorn.
"Ah, sirs. Times is hard."
"times are hard, ma'am." I repeated, chucking back the last of the cup of ail.
"times are very hard, indeed."
remember guys, leave a review if you enjoyed this chapter. (unlikely)
new chapters will be up every week or so!