A/N: So many people asked for me to add this character that I couldnt resist ;) Hope you like, please leave reviews
Jack's hand dropped from his bunk, releasing the empty glass bottle it had been gripping so tightly, without him knowing. But that was not the only thing he was unaware of, as he slept.
Sweeney Todd stood over him, his knife in hand. Mort Rainey, next to him.
"He didn't kill Barbossa." Sweeney said. "I was sure he would have."
Mort snickered. "You see, that's the beauty of all this. You, being one of his 'insiders', have the power to use his body to do whatever it is you want. They can't presses charges against you, after all. You're not real anyways, not according to state laws." He shook his head. "Man, I don't believe this. An insider, with his own insiders. The Shooter in me think's you're on to something, Mr.Todd."
Willy appeared out of no where. "Why do you want to kill this Barbra guy so badly, anyways?"
Sweeney held his knife up, staring at the glint of the candle light it reflected. "Let's just say these haven't seen a good blood spill in a while."
Willy frowned. He pointed to the knife. "Aren't those shaving razors? You're not actually suposed to cut yourself with those, you know."
Sweeney gave him a glare that instantly silenced him.
"Whatever happens," Mort said. "I'm not involved, whatsoever." he turned, disapearing into the darkness.
"Anyone else?" Sweeney called. The others made their presence known.
"As I said before," Ichabod said. "I do believe the consiquences of whatever it is you're planning, Mr.Todd, do not level out as nicely as you think. If anything happens, it will happen to Jack."
"That's the beauty of it." Sweeney replied.
"You don't understand," Ichabod went on. "We are all a part of him. We go where he goes. If he spends the rest of his life rotting away in a cell, well then.."
In a swift movement, Sweeney brought the blade in front of Ichabod's face, which grew paler than usual.
"Shut it, or I'll slice you first." Sweeney said.
Ichabod swallowed hard, his eyes rolled and he teetered backwards, Willy caught him before he hit the ground. Fortunatly, he did not black out this time.
Sweeney ignore him and staring down at the knife in his hand with an eery satisfaction.
"Soon, I'll unfold you.Soon you'll know splendors
You never have dreamed
all you days,
my lucky friends
'Til now your shine was merely silver.
Friends, you shall drip rubies, you'll soon drip precious rubies..."
He sang, before he glanced down at Jack, who other than a few irritated snores, was still seemingly unaware of anything suspicious. He shut his eyes.
"No!" Ichabod shouted, as he realised what Sweeney was about to do. He overcome his cowardice, if only for a moment, to try and hold him back, pulling him away from Jack. "I won't let you!"
Sweeney fought to get away, and almost suceeded until Sam grabbed his other arm, pulling it back. Between the two of them, they almost overpowered him, but his right arm broke free and swung at Sam, who gasped, holding his own hand. It had been slashed across the palm. Sam winced.
"Ow..ow..ow..." he said. As the other three attended to Sam's wound, Sweeney seized the opportunity. His eyes shut again. When they opened, they were Jack's.
He couldn't see any other insiders, although he heard their protests inside his - Jack's- head. He could feel their attempts to pull him back in, but he fought, as he climbed up the stairs onto the main deck. The crew was hard at work, under the moonlight. Sweeney walked to the Captain's cabin, his hand on Jack's sword. He carfully opened the door and slipped inside. Barbossa was in a chair, fast asleep.
" Perfect." he muttered. He took Jack's sword, held it over Barbossa's throat and brought it back, ready to chop. The steel swung and hit another steel, which blocked Sweeney's swing. Sweeney stumbled back, dumbfounded. He saw that the other steel was not a sword, but long scissors, and that they were attatched to the wrists of a man dressed in black. They were his hands.
The man had a young face, chalk-white in complexion, with pale scars running over the flesh in random places. His hair was black, like Sweeney's, and stuck straight up from his head. His torso appeared to be not made of flesh, but metal. At first glance, Sweeney thought that he was seeing a younger version of himself.
"Don't hurt him." The boy said in small, timid tone.
Sweeney stared, stunned. "I beg your pardon?"
"Don't hurt him," he repeated. "Please."
Sweeney looked down at the boy's hands. "How did you do that?"
"What?"
"Put those scissors on your hands like that."
"I didn't." he replied. "I'm not finished."
Sweeney raised an eyebrow. He cautiously reached out, and touched one of the blades. The young man flinched.
"Brilliant." he murmered. "Wish I'dve thought of it...Scissors for hands. You put me to shame, boy. You could slash 3 or 4 throats at once."
"I... I don't slash throats." the boy said. "I only cut."
Sweeney gave a dark smile. "But why not slash? It's less time consuming, and more blood will spill. Rubies, precious rubies...Surely you are not a barber like myself?"
The boy gave a slight, sudden nod. A smirk appeared on his small dark mouth.
"Has no one told you? I am the greatest barber to ever meet Fleet Street. If you think that you can out do me with all of those scissors, you are sadly mistaken, my friend. Shall we have us a challenge, then? That is if you can find a suitable cadidate."
The younger man stood for a moment before he turned and walked awkwardly out onto the deck. he returned dragging an undisturbed sleeping pirate who may have passed out on the deck. He plopped him into a chair.
"Alright," said Sweeney. "I shall take that one." He ripped the table cloth from beneath Barbossa's spread of food on the table and tied it around the neck of the pirate. The boy didn't use a sheet, as it would be difficut for him to tie it with his bladed fingers. Sweeney prepared himself, sharpening his blades and creating lather from a bar of soap and a jug of water.
"Ready?" he asked. The man gave a nod. Sweeney went to work, shaving the pirate's bearded face, diligently, and quickly. The other man busily snipped and trimmed at a rapid pace. They finished near the same time. Sweeney smiled as he surveyed his results. Even if the pirate's face was still caked with the grim and grit of the sea life, he was now clean-shaven, which was an improvement. He looked over at Captain Barbossa and was startled at what he saw. The awkward young man had used his scissors to leave all but one long twirling strip of beard sticking straight out from his chin. One side of his hair had been trimmed to almost nothing, and styled to resemble something of a wave. The other had hardly been touched.
The boy smiled proudly.
Barbossa stirred, becoming aware of someone in the room, he thought more than one. As he opened his eyes, his doubled vision adjusted, and he saw that there was only one figure in the room.
"Jack.."he croaked. "What are you doing here? This be the Captain's cabin. You should be.." He paused, as he caught a glimpes of himself in the reflection of the water jug. He lifted it, touching his hand to the short side of his hair, and staring at his reflection in horror.
"What have you done to me?"
He studied Jack's face, not identifying the difference between his expression and Sweeney Todd's.
"You filthy scoundrel! You bloody simpleton!" he threw the jug against the wall, as he leapt to his feet. He drew his sword. "I'll have yer head!!" he screamed.
'Jack' began to run, fleeing out the door, with Barbossa chasing him.
"Get back here, you yellow-bellied swab! I'll cut out yer bones!" He screamed, as the crew stopped to stare. "Throw that man overboard!" he demanded.
This was when Sweeney decided to let Jack out, at such an unfortunate time. Jack became aware that he was running from something, but he didn't know what. He skidded to a stop once he reached the end of the ship, so hard that he lost balance and fell.
"Arrrrrrgh!!" Barbossa boomed as he lunged at him, his sword raised high above his head. Jack saw it come down straight for him. He rolled out of the way, and it stuck between the planks.
"What is this all about, old man?" Jack demanded, as Barbossa was distracted enough, trying to get his sword unstuck. He stopped, glaring into his eyes with sheer rage. That was when Jack noticed the hair and the beard, and couldn't help but laugh. Barbossa yanked his sword from the planks and he thrust it under Jack's nose.
"You keep yer selves under control from now on, you hear? Or you'll all be gutted one by one and tossed to the hammerheads."
As he stormed away, back to his cabin, Jack stood feeling completely clueless. he climbed down into the lower decks, finding himself surprisingly alone.
"Alright, where are you?" he called into the darkness.
He waited. No answer.
"If you don't come out now and tell me which one of you did that, I'll beat you all out of me."
But his threat was useless. Tired, and irritated, he decided to go back to sleep and hope that he stayed asleep. He didn't know how or if he would ever get use to awakening to his body in motion. Before he reached his bunk, something cold and sharp touched his shoulder.
"Mr. Todd." He said. "I should've known." he turned to face him and cried out in surprise when he saw the unfamiliar and startling face of himself as a young man with dark features.
He examined the boy, lifting his wrist and studying the blades which dangled from what should have been his hand. Nothing about the others impressed him anymore. Each of them were strange in their own ways.
"Just when I think there couldn't possibly be anymore of you.." he mumbled.
Behind him, appeared Willy, Mort, Ichabod and Sam, who all stared at the new comer.
"Have you ever seen anything so mystifying?" Willy asked, sufficiently impressed.
"Frightening is the word I would have chosen" murmured Ichabod, who was beginning to tremble again. "Hellish, even. Perhaps you're a relative of Mr.Todd's?"
"I'm Edward." said the boy.
Sam approached, looking him up and down with caution. He reached for his hand. "Are those real?"
When Edward raised his hand, probably to shake Sam's, Sam lept back in fear. The hand Sweeney had sliced earlier was now tightly bandaged.
"It's alright, Sam." Willy said, clamping a hand on his shoulder. "He won't hurt you, will you?"
Edward shook his head.
"Ah, see? he's friendly."
Jack snickered. "You should see what he did to Barbossa."
Dat's all for now folks! :D