She had heard things. Bad things, about 'The Great Judge Turpin's extravagant balls'. Mrs. Lovett had told her time after time again that the trashy, miserable women on the street were nothing but poor victims of his 'interests'. Of course, she had no idea what this meant, but it didn't sound good.
Kagome stayed frozen where she sat, an almost shocked expression her face as the maid took her empty bowl. "Don't worry," Turpin's voice spoke comfortingly. "I'm sure you'll fit into the high class life just fine." He assured as the maid took his bowl, then stood and waited for her to stand as well. When she didn't move, The Judge tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to blink a few times, than look at him like he had just arrived.
He smiled slightly, "Perhaps a quick trip to the market with me will help you...cope?" he suggested, his voice cracking only the slightest at the end. He didn't like lying as much as people believed he did, or at least not as much to a girl so young and innocent. But then again, was that not the reason he had his eyes on her in the first place?
Kagome said nothing, her face merely falling only the slightest. She didn't want to be remember of the times she and Toby had ran through the Streets, the elder people screaming bloody murder when they so happen to cross paths. She didn't want to see Mrs. Mooney's Pie shop, where she and Mrs. Lovett passed almost everyday to rub Lovett's shop's business And she most certainly couldn't handle walking pass the shops of various items, her and Sweeney shopping there frequently, the sneer on his face as we walked by the razors.
"Perhaps," The young teen started weakly, looking blank at the table top. "Another time, Sir?" Turpin considered it. The girl must be devastated, but the plan was to make her his, and he was not a patient man. "No. It is beautiful weather outside and I refuse to let you waste such a rarity here in London." he demanded gently.
Kagome hung her head, a sort of depression creeping over her. This was a fight she couldn't win, so she didn't bother. She allowed him to take her by the hand roughly and practically drag her out the door. They stood there fro a moment and she whimpered quietly as she felt the sun's heat on her skin for the first time in days. Turin raised an eye brow. "Something the matter?" he asked firmly. She shook her head.
"No, sir, I guess I just haven't been...outside in a while." she spoke breathlessly, looking at the blue skies in a daze as her breath catches in her throat. Her eyes seem to twinkle in the daylight, the sun catching her raven locks, her small chest rising and falling as she takes in small, lengthy breathes.
The Judge only stares at her, taking in her youthful beauty. After a moment, he shakes his head walks to the market, his back straight and head high as she trails quietly behind, still in a daze.
"Toby!" Lovett calls the teen. "Coming!" he shouts in reply as he weaves his way through the crowded pie shop. She grabs a tray of the counter. "Take Mr. T 'is lunch, love, I can 'andle it down 'ere for a while." he doesn't protest as he swipes the tray swiftly and trots up the stairs. She feels a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth. Such a good lad, always a tough one, 'e is, she thinks to herself. The trio have silently agreed to at least try to get things back to normal to attract the Judge to his death. It had taken half an hour, however, to get the baker on her feet again to even take a step out there where she had always helped her brother and mother. But once her tears had dried, she was up and running like nothing had ever happened.
But that was impossible now.
"Oi! Wot's a bloke gotta do ta ge' some ale o'er 'ere!" a man called form a table in the corner of the shop. Sucking in her frustration, Lovett put on a cheery smile and grabbed the pitcher of ale.
He pulled his foot of the pedal and slowly wiped the blood off his razor. Sweeney didn't have the patience to not savor the feel of the warm liquid under his fingers anymore. He needed blood. He needed the Judge's blood, and he needed it now. The barber scowled at his own reflection in the sliver blade. "Look at you," he muttered to himself. "No better than a monster."
The bell on the door twinkled lightly then, as Toby walked in with tray in hand, glaring at the barber, daring him to act like a brute as he usually did. "I brought ya lunch, Mr. T." he said clearly through clenched teeth. Sweeney stars at the boy for a moment, a look almost that of surprise. He had never seen the lad so aggressive looking, taking a fighting stance, eyes clouded with hidden rage. Yes, he had seen that look before in prison plenty of times; the look of one of those that were about to crack, the slightest touch resulting in a raging tornado of brutality and blind furry with no purpose.
The barber felt himself swallow silently before turning his back on him. "On the vanity." he choked out, trying to sound as cold as ever, his voice faltering only the slightest. He heard a loud clatter as Toby had obviously slammed the tray down, followed by the slam of the shop door.
It was going to be a long day.
His thundering footsteps drowned out the bellowing voices of the customers in the shop below as he came down, a scowl on his darkened face. That damned man! Doesn't even care! He thought to himself with a snarl as he reached the end of the stairs. He ignored the strange look a stranger gave him as he hurried by, like he was a wild creature, but who was he to argue? He probably looked a mess!
Toby sighed to himself as he let this thought sink in. Yes, they all must look a sight, since no one, as far as he knew, had bathed since that night. And he doubted no one had slept well or at all either. He hurriedly picked up a tray of hot pies Lovett had set out and began serving the customers again, a smile plastered on his face.
Luckily for him and the rest of them, the day was some what slow after that lunch rush for some reason. At first Mrs. Lovett was sort of disappointed, hoping she could find a distraction from her miseries in her work. Then, as she felt her lower back yell out in pain as she bent down to help Toby clean up the shop, she smiled to herself at not having to work as hard for the day.
She sent a quick glance above. The door was closed but the open sin was still on.
Lovett sighed. Of course, just when she thought she'd get a break, he had to go and kill off everyone who stepped over the threshold. She quickly ran down to the bakehouse to check the damage and sighed in frustration at the pile of bloodied bodies, the shock on their faces no longer disturbing her.
Good thin' I ain't got nothin' to do tonight, she thought to herself gloomily as she rubbed the sweat form her forehead from working earlier. She stared at the dead bodies for a few moments as her eye lids drooped, as if she stared at them hard enough, they chop themselves up. Alas, no such thing occurred
The rest of the night was rather uneventful, as if it were nothing had ever happened. Lovett killed, cooked, served, slept, repeat. Toby drank, slept, worked, repeat.
With Sweeney, however, it was different every night. Some nights he'd smash everything in his shop. Other nights he'd brood and kill. Rare nights he'd come down and see how the pie shop was doing, just watching Lovett and Toby work. But most nights, He'd just sit in his chair and stare at the ceiling or stand and stare out the window for an excessive amounts of time.
On this night night he glared out the window hatefully as if expecting it to shiver in fear at his very presence. He growled angrily when it didn't.
Sweeney stared at his reflection for a moment, his black orbs of eyes stared back. He snarled in disgust as he noticed his even paler complexion, his rat's nest hair, and he especially noticed how thin he had become.
Damn the girl
, The barber thought to himself with a slight sneer. Damn her for having this effect on me.
If he were to be completely honest with anyone besides himself, he'd say it again. If he'd been inclined to be honest with himself, he'd say he might have traded a razor or two have her back.
Just then, a small shadowy figure scampered out in to the courtyard. Sweeney's eyes shot to the figure and watched curiously as it looked left, then right, then ran out into the streets. Probably another beggar, he assured himself, his eyes not leaving the dark, now barren streets.
But when he came down a moment later for some late night drinking gin, the barber quickly noticed Lovett's absence. He didn't have to check her bedroom to know that little shadow had been her. For he knew for a fact that Lovett always stayed up until Ten cleaning the shop, never going to sleep before and never being one to half ass a job.
No, that must have been the baker, he was sure of it. Sweeney ground his teeth in frustration. Damn, Woman! Why the bloody hell does she think its safe to roam the damned streets at this hour! His eyes flickered to the clock that ticked away on the wall behind the counter. 11:06 A.M.
He growled angrily and went straight for the bottle of gin on the top shelf in the hall to her bedroom knowing she had tried to hide it from the lad.
A vicious scowl on his face, Sweeney sat himself in the very booth he'd been pushed into the day of his return, taking swig after swig of the alcohol carelessly
Don't you think you should go after her? He heard Benjamin asked irritably in a tone that instantly told the barber that had he had arms, he'd have crossed them over his chest. "Why should I have to go after her if she gets herself in trouble?" he asked aloud after a moment when he heard Toby's snores in the parlor.
Because you know she will and that you love her!The voice yelled in frustration.
"I don't need that infuriating woman for anything other than to bake those bloody human pies!" Sweeney snarled back as he slammed the gin bottle on the table only to bring it back to his lips in another chug.
Would you stop being stubborn and go to her!
"Why the bloody hell should I?" he yelled as he slammed the bottle on the table once more. Then, he abruptly stood. "More important, why the hell am I TALKING TO YOU? TO MYSELF?"
Sweeney ran back to his shop and went for his razor, holding it eye level for a moment before a wicked grin came to his face, a certain gleam in his eye. He felt Benjamin's breath hitch in his non-existent throat.
Sweeney...
"
YOU BETTER SHUT UP!" He brought it to his throat as his other hand flew to the arm of the death chair, his nails digging into the leather. "Don't think I won't do it, Benjamin..." he growled as his grin turned into an unholy smirk.
Silence.
Sweeney let out a low chuckle before chucking the razor into the wooden floor boards. The clatter of the silver hitting the wood fell deaf on his ears as he slumped into the chair, letting out a long sigh of something like contentment as he let the image of his late wife fill his mind and coax him into sleep.
Sweeney... shes gone. Life is for the alive...
But he was already asleep, the hint of a blissful smile on his mouth.
She looks to her left, her right, and behind her nervously before she finally took a step out of the filthy streets and into her beloved pie shop.
Mrs. Lovett held the knob turned as she quietly and gently shut the door, the bell coughing out a ghostly ting-ling. She sighed in relief as she walked into the parlor and saw Toby on the couch, a bottle of gin hanging loosely in his hand as his snores echoed slightly throughout the pie shop.
Lovett holds her voluminous skirts in her hand, her bag of purchased items in the other as she snaked her way silently into the narrow hall way to her room. Only when her door was shut and locked did she let out a long breath, slumping against the door as she slid down to the floor, her skirts pooling around her like dark blood.
Blood.
Dark.
Red.
Rubies.
Lovett sighed quietly as she glanced above. Maybe I should've gotten 'im some. OR at the very least tell 'im I was gettin' some, she thought gloomily, her eyes saddening. Oh, who am I kiddin'? 'He'd 'ave me 'ead if he saw me now,the baker tried to keep the tears form running down her face.
Its not like she was proud of it, but else could she do to handle the grief? Try and get her back? Maybe, but it was unlikely they would succeed. It worked before, yes, but only once, against an insane man and his dim witted side kick. IF they were to try it again, with someone of actual power, of stature and cunning...
"No," Lovett shook her head, her fiery curls bobbing around her. "T'would never work. No' takin' the chance of losin' her, Toby, or Mr. T." she frustratingly wiped away the tears that had escaped the corners of her eyes. "Besides," she tells herself in desperate whispers, sobs threatening to take her.
"She'll 'ave a better life there. A better education, better clothes, food, maybe even friends." the baker chuckled hollowly to herself. No, she would not friends there. She'd seen how he'd been with Johanna all those years. "Kept 'er nice and snug, 'e did." she muttered. "Bu' At least she was safe." Yes, safe...
Maybe Sweeney's righ', Lovett thinks to herself as she holds the bag against her chest tightly, groping it as if there were a button on it somewhere that could reset everything back to normal. Maybe I do need to learn to start letting go.
She pulls back and digs through the bag and pulls out what shes looking for. "Well," she whispers, her voice cracking as she feels the sobs begin to take over. "If I can' 'ave her for real, I can 'ave 'er I me 'ead."
Mrs. Lovett holds the Opium pipe in front of her as she shuffles her other hand in the bag containing the stuff. Tears slip through the corners of her eyes and run down her face. She doesn't bother wiping them.
About the Opium, I asked the original author if I could borrow the idea and they said yes (i think. Its been while and the more I listen to that pop tart cat the more my mind turns to mush)
anyway, just wanted let you guys know the story is still here and hopefully you guys will review and say it should still be here for the chapters and tragedy to come!
