A/N: Hello all! Sorry about the delay! I really do hate exams!
Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd.
Two weeks.
Two goddamn weeks.
Nellie was really starting to get sick of this. He visited every two days, and every two days, he would pose that stupid question to her.
"So, Eleanor, are you going to be returning to London with me?"
And every two days, she would refuse him. Consequently, every two days, she was tortured. And apparently, Stefan and John were skilled and sadistic torturers. It ranged from Stefan's whip his favourite), to burns on her arms and legs, to thin slices all over her body with John's knife. (She nicknamed it his 'special friend, the man's obsession with it was just downright unhealthy)
It hurt. It hurt like hell. But she had long ago prevented herself from screaming, especially when she had looked up and seen the bastard pleasuring himself to the sound of her screams. It disgusted her and soon after she had emptied what little she had in her stomach on to the floor.
She had even tried to stop crying because they all found some perverse pleasure in seeing her tears running down her face.
She considered herself lucky that she hadn't been raped. Yet.
According to the perverted bastard, he was waiting till she broke before he could rape her. Hah. Fat chance, she thought.
She was quickly lowered from the ropes and onto the floor, wincing as John pressed a gin soaked cloth on her back where she was currently suffering from the sting of the whip.
Finally, she was again left alone, and after recovering from the pain, she sat up and pulled the thin blanket that served as her bed off the ground. She held up what she had been working on for the last few days. Smirking, she ran it along the rough stone floor, silently laughing at the two fools who had left her a spoon with her dinner. Especially a spoon of such easily manipulated metal. She felt the sharp edges and smiled to herself. Soon, she would escape. Oh, so soon.
XXX
Sweeney Todd woke up early the next morning, quickly rousing Toby. They each grabbed an apple and strode out of the inn they'd been staying in, perfectly prepared to begin their search for their redhead.
But by the time lunch had rolled around, they were quickly becoming disheartened. They hadn't seen hide nor hair of any kind of suspicious activity in Yorkshire and they had searched all of the town in pretty much one day.
Finally, dusk rolled around and they were returning to their inn when they heard a commotion in the relatively quiet and darkened street.
"And stay out til' yeh can pay yer bloody tab!", came the shriek of a woman and a rather familiar looking drunk man stumbled out of the nearby tavern, cursing under his breath.
And then Sweeney recognized why.
It was Stefan.
Stefan from Yorkshire.
"This is the buffoon who I met in the tavern in London and he told me about them holding Nellie. If we follow him, we can likely find where they are holding her and rescue her.", he muttered to Toby, who nodded in agreement.
They followed him at a steady pace, neither too close nor too far, and eventually, he led them onto a lonely dirt track, leading to a rather isolated part of the town.
A lone shack rose into view and Sweeney smirked. Nobody would be able to hear the dying screams of the two men who had taken his Nellie.
Stefan entered the shack and Sweeney and Toby peered inside, and Sweeney was already formulating a plan in his head. He handed Toby a razor.
"In case anyone else manages to escape, use it. Keep watch, lad."
With that, he ran around to the front of the house, leaving a bewildered and anxious Toby behind.
The so called 'house' was grungy and disgusting and the vermin that lived inside couldn't even afford a proper lock for their door. He entered as silently as the grave and found that there was only two rooms. There was a main room, with a hearth and some shabby couches and a door that was shut leading off to the side.
Stefan was currently passed out on one couch, completely oblivious to the murderous barber standing before him.
Sweeney delivered a kick to his stomach.
"Hm? The bloody 'ell?"
"Hello again, Stefan, I believe you have something that belongs to me. And I want it back. You should have known not to steal from Sweeney Todd.", he murmured with a cold and deadly tone to his voice.
In the dying embers of the firelight, he truly looked like a demon from hell, and Stefan's face contorted in pure fear.
"Wait, look, I'm really-"
His words cut off with a gurgle and a spray of red, effectively ending his life.
Sweeney stepped over the body, heading for the sole door in the room. It creaked open noisily and the first thing he saw was a huddled form on the dirty flagstones, her red hair tangled and dirty and covering her face. His heart ached, until another voice reached his ears.
"Stef? That you?"
He growled in pure unadulterated anger and the other man was decidedly smarter than his oaf of a brother. He shot up from his chair in the corner, knowing his brother did not stand in the door. Sweeney was also surprised as he quickly moved over to the huddled figure, roughly pulling her up by her hair, clasping her hands behind her back and placing his knife at her throat.
"One more step, and she dies."
Sweeney bared his teeth like an animal, a tiger defending its mate. His eyes suddenly found a pair of chocolate brown ones and surprisingly, they did not display the fear or emotions of a broken woman.
No, she was angry. Almost as angry as he.
Before he could blink an eye, she drove her elbow hard and fast into her captor's ribs, and the man choked and dropped the knife, giving her enough time to twist from his arms and kick him where the sun doesn't shine.
He actually winced, and he noticed her holding something that resembled a knife but seemed to be made crudely.
He watched in fascination as she drove it into the man's chest, vaguely registering that she was screaming, screaming unintelligible words, even as his gurgles died down and the light faded from his eyes. She still continued though, stabbing him over and over again, tears finally breaking free and the floodgates opening, wetting her face and mingling with the dead man's blood.
"Nell."
She spun abruptly and staggered over to him, collapsing into his arms, her hands bloody and gory, but still clutching to him, as though he were a dream that would disappear.
He murmured words of comfort in her ear, rubbing her back as he tears soaked through his shirt.
Finally, he scooped her up, and after a half hour, the three people were found riding out of Yorkshire and heading for London, the cover of night concealing their crimes.
He cradled her carefully on the moving horse, her face looking troubled even in her sleep and she clutched his shirt tighter between his fingers, burying her face into the fabric.
He sighed and stroked her cheek, pressing a kiss to her temple as he urged his horse faster on in a desperate attempt to quicken their journey back to London and get her home.
A/N: So... what did'ja think? Nell has killed her first man... yup. I say first because it won't be the last she kills, either. Ah well, drop me a review will ya?
~Ele