Thank you to filmgrl13 and obsessivelyfanaticgw09 for reviewing my previous chapter - glad everyone is enjoying it! Sweeney is FINALLY introduced in this chapter!


Chapter Four

Once again, I lay in bed, unable to sleep. It had been a week since I had gone upstairs. I just couldn't understand why I was hearing voices. It wasn't…me, because I had sorted that out.

Kind of.

Ok, so I admit I skipped taking the pills for the week. I didn't mean to and, anyway, nothing happened. I didn't hear any voices or see hallucinations. Dad, Linda and Grace hadn't seemed to notice, so everything was just fine.

A soft bang made me sit up. It had come from the barber's shop…

I froze on my bed, listening carefully. Another bang. My brow furrowing, I swung my legs over the side of my bed and stood up, grabbing my jeans and trainers. I yanked my jeans, slipped my bare feet into my trainers and grabbed my torch again. Not bothering to put a jumper on, I made my way downstairs.

It was darker tonight, the clouds in the sky concealing the light of the moon. A shiver ran down my spine as I walked through the shop, my footsteps the only sound I could hear.

A cold wind blew as I stepped outside, nibbling on my already shivering body. Instead of running up the steps, as I usually did, I slowly wandered up them, my heart pounding against my chest.

I wasn't scared of course! It was probably nothing, all the bangs.

I got to the top step, and slowly walked along the balcony. Another bang made me pause for a moment, but I continued walking until I got to the door.

My hand shaking, I reached forwards and took hold of the smooth handle. Trying not to think of what awaited me inside, I opened the door and stepped into the room.

"Hello?" I called softly, shutting the door behind me. "Is anyone in here?"

There was no answer. Frowning, I walked in further until I was at the window. Placing the torch on the windowsill, I sighed and looked out.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit, and the vermin of the world inhabit it. Its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit and it goes by the name of-"

"London."

I rolled my eyes and picked the torch up. "Very funny, Grace, but I'm not going to-"

I cut myself off.

Oh. My. God.

My torch fell to the ground, making a loud bang, but I didn't seem to notice as it rolled away.

Sweeney Todd.

He was alive and standing in front of me.

Not good.

He was a lot taller than me, so I had to stare up at him, and extremely pale. Seriously, I thought I was pale, but compared to him I looked like a beach Barbie! The dark rings under his equally dark eyes were prominent against his skin, and his chiselled features were set into a hard glare.

And his hair was so AWESOME! If I wasn't so scared, I would be getting tips off him any day! It was black, down to his shoulders, and messy with one long white streak going down it.

Ok, this had to be a joke. A really stupid joke.

My eyes darted around, desperately trying to find some hidden camera that would prove my suspicions. It was very well hidden.

"You're dead." I whispered, more to myself than to him. Obviously, he didn't like it. I mean, who can blame him? I sure wouldn't like being told I was dead.

That was no excuse to swing his bloody razor at me though!

A squeak of fear escaped my lips as I ducked just in time to avoid my throat being slit.

He stared at me for a minute before turning away and beginning to sharpen his razor, as if nothing had happened. Shaking, I straightened up, causing him to look at me indifferently. I stared back at him, my eyes wide.

With one swift movement, he managed to get hold of my pyjama top and fling me into the barber's chair. I brought my legs up against my chest as he pinned my down with hand and used the other to hold the razor to my throat, his face level with mine.

"Who are you?" He growled.

"Please, let me go," I begged. "I won't tell anyone-"

"Who are you?" He demanded, his voice dangerously low.

"Joey," I replied. He snorted.

"Joey," He repeated harshly. "Joey is a boy's name. Are you a boy?"

I was about to make a smart arse comment, but having a razor pressed to my throat made me rethink that. So I just contented myself with shaking my head, which is quite difficult with a razor so close.

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at me, studying my face. I waited, my heart pounding against my chest, until he straightened up and moved away from me. I watched him, my brow furrowing.

"And what brings you here?" He asked.

"I…my family and I have just moved here for the summer." I explained.

"Here?" He sneered with contempt. I could hardly blame him. Out of all the amazing summer houses and destinations, we picked one belonging to a mad barber.

"And how old are you, Joey?" He asked, empathising my name with another sneer.

"Fifteen."

His eyes narrowed again, the dark slits staring at me. Before I knew it, he was back in front of me, both his hands on my shoulders as his face was close to mine. I pulled back, frightened.

"What is your name?" He demanded.

"I've already told-"

"No, your real name!" He snapped, shaking me.

"J-Joanna."

He let go of me and stepped back, staring at me in shock. When he didn't say anything, I carried on, my confidence growing slightly.

"But why are you here? You're dead. You died years ago!" I said, slowly lowering my legs onto the floor and straightening up. My back was beginning to hurt from being all curled up.

"How did I die?" Sweeney asked in a scornful tone.

"The boy that worked here…he slit your throat…you were found cradling a dead woman in your arms…"

"Lucy…" He whispered, and then turned to me. "Joanna."

"Er, no, just Joey," I corrected. "No one calls me Joanna."

Sweeney's eyes bored into mine as he walked forwards, his hand outstretched as if he was about to touch me. I took a quick step back, and there was no mistaking the hurt I saw in his eyes.

To my surprise, Sweeney suddenly fell to his knees and began muttering, no, singing something.

"And are you beautiful and pale, with yellow hair, like her? I'd want you beautiful and pale, the way I've dreamed you were, Johanna…"

"Erm…sir?"

His head snapped up, and his eyes bored into mine. He quickly stood up and crossed the room to hold my shoulders again.

"I will let you go on two conditions."

"Ok…"

"Firstly: You do not tell anyone that I am up here or what has happened tonight." He ordered.

"Fair enough." I answered casually. I would've shrugged, but his hands were clinging onto my shoulders in an almost iron like grip.

"Secondly: I want to see you every day. It doesn't matter what time it is, you need to come up here." He growled.

"What happens if I don't?" I asked. The murderous glint in his eyes gave me the answer. "Ok."

"Get out."

I stared at him in surprise. "What?"

"GET OUT!"

Letting out another squeak of fear, I pushed myself off the chair and ran out of the shop, down the stairs and into my room.

Lying in bed, I curled up and wrapped my arms around myself, my eyes on the ceiling above me.

What had just happened?

Pulling my duvet up to my shoulders, I closed my eyes and allowed sleep to take over me.


Hopefully that was ok, I tried to keep the meeting as realistic as possible. Please review and tell me what you think!