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Rest, now, my friend...rest now forever.
The chest in the corner creaked loudly. A small face appeared through the crack.
Sweeney's eyes dart to the corner. Lifting the lid, he sees a boy, and lifts him roughly out. He must be killed; he's seen too much.
Everybody needs a good shave.
No less than a second later, a piercing scream fills the air. Mrs Lovett's.
He leans in close to the boy...and realises its not a boy at all. The face is that of a girl. A young girl, pretty. Just like...he knows who it is. Of course, the sailor must have bought her here already.
Forget ma face.
Its better if she never knows who he really is. Without a moment's hesitation, he walks away from his daughter, for the last time. No regret, no remorse. He's doing Joanna a favour.
***
What work! Who knew that bloomin Lucy could be so 'eavy. She weighed a ton! Oh well, job's done now. She's gone forever. So now, me an Mr T can finally be 'appy together.
Mrs Lovett, so overjoyed at the thought of a seaside home, starts singing again. The tune is quiet, but Sweeney still hears her coming down the stairs. What's quiet for Mrs Lovett is loud for the rest of us, he thinks, amused. Though the amusment certainly isn't clear on his face as he comes bursting through the door. Sweeney's forgotten how to smile.
Just as she shuts the oven door firmly, and comes to the end of her tune, Mr T bursts in. He's covered in blood, from head to toe. Mrs Lovett believes he went a tad over the top with the killings tonight. She isn't surprised- the beadle, the judge, Lucy- (though the last one he had no idea who it was) he's 'ad quite a selection.
Staring him up and down, she knows there's something about him that still alarms and excites her. Maybe its the way he runs around, all pumped up on adrenaline (she thinks) He doesn't have a care in the world. But she hopes he cares a little for her at least. What they've been doing over the past few days must count for something. It has too.
She doesn't realise he's talking to her.
"Mrs Lovett!" he practically screams.
"Sorry love, wasn't paying attention. But really, there's no need to scream at me like that. Gives me 'eart an awful fright."
He looks slightly regretful that he shouted so harshly at her, but only grunts in reply.
The judge's body comes into focus. He wants it gone. Completely.
"Open the door." Mrs Lovett does, as always, as she is told.
The ground is illuminated with the light from the oven. She knows some higher power must have been looking out for her; if she hadn't spotted Lucy's body lying there, it would been her he's picking up now. He would 'ave known it was Lucy, what with all that dreadful yellow 'air.
He would 'ave known Mrs Lovett knew all along.
God knows what 'e would 'ave done when 'e found out. The thought sent a chill up her spine.
But that wasn't what happened. It's the Judge's body he's pulling over to the oven now. It's the Judges clothes his bloodstained hands are touching. And it's not the eyes of a heart-broken man who stands before Mrs Lovett. She feels something has been somewhat lifted from Mr T, now this is all over, now everybody is dead he could 'ave ever wished dead. Now his revenge is complete. I did the right thing throwing Lucy into the fire, thinks Mrs Lovett. I did it for not just myself, but for mr T.
In truth, its all been for him.
He dumps the body into the fire, wiping his 'ands when's he's done. Mrs Lovett dusts down her dress, and smoothens her hair.
What now? she asks herself. But Mr T already has the answer to that.
"Where's Toby?"
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Dun. Dun. Dun. Review my dear readers! Tell me, do you want this story to go further, or end soon?
