Oh my god... this chapter was brutal to write... for some reason I just haven't been all that into it.
I'm sorry if it's awful, I erased and rewrote this thing 3 other times. The dream sequence thing is actually from a Sweeney Todd/Phatom Of The Opera cross-over I started to write a long time ago xD.
I would really, really, really apreciate it if someone gave me some idea's, I'm totaly stumped and I want to update fast for you guys. SO IF ANYONE HAS ANYTHING THEY WANNA SEE HAPPEN, PLEASE TELL ME AND I'LL TRY AND MAKE IT WORK!!!
Anyways, enjoy the 18th chapter of a story that probably should have ended a long time ago xDD
Sweeney awoke that morning with a groan, rolling over groggily.
He could tell that today wasn't going to be a good day for him, already he was in a bad mood.
Pulling himself out of bed he looked over to see Mrs. Lovett fast asleep, clearly not waking any time soon.
He slipped on a shirt and vest grabbing his boots and jacket he walked out of the room swiftly, glancing at a clock he quirked a brow at the time, it had been a long time since he'd woken up in the actual morning.
Putting on the boots and coat he walked out the door, the familiar frown set on his features like it had been for so many years.
As he strode down the street towards the jail he ignored the usual stares from the people, he needed to pay the fine and he didn't want them bugging him.
Pushing open the door he walked up to the desk "I'm here to pay the fine I was charged with" he said quickly.
"Name?" the man asked
"Sweeney Todd"
Waiting as the man rummaged through a drawer he pulled out a small file, opening it he grabbed a paper from inside placing it on the table.
"Mr. Todd" he said meditatively "you're fine is 172 pounds"
He grabbed the money out of his pocket and placed in on the desk, which the man quickly took and put into an envelope.
Turning to walk out of the room he stopped dead in his tracks as the man called out to him.
"Maybe next time you should think twice before assaulting someone" he said condescendingly.
Spinning on his heels to face the man, his eyes set in a dark glare "pardon me?" he asked, his hand automatically going to the razor sitting at his hip.
"You heard me, only someone stupid would assault a man and think nothing of it" he spat
"Even consider the idea I don't have a conscience?" Sweeney suggested dangerously "for all you know, assaulting that man could be the least of horrible things I've done. If I were you I'd be more careful who you speak to in such a manner"
The man's eyes widened as Sweeney approached the desk once more, the look in his eyes was pure murder "s-sorry sir, I-I didn't mean it"
His eyes still set in a glare he turned and marched out the door, leaving the man to shake silently behind the desk.
This is why I never leave the house he thought to himself, people are imbeciles.
Storming out into the street his pushed his way through a group of people huddled inconveniently in the street, pushing a man out of his way. Grunting obnoxiously the man nudged him slightly.
"Don't touch me" Sweeney growled glaring at him. Taking a step back the man apologized before ushering the others around him into a store.
In minutes he arrived back at the bakery, pushing open the door roughing he stormed inside. The last thing he wanted right now was for Mrs. Lovett to see him angry but he couldn't calm down, everything went wrong around him, every possibly thing that could go wrong had for him.
Walking over to the sofa he slumped down resting his head in his hands.
Despite everything good that had happened to him, he couldn't help but focus on the bad things. He was most definitely a negative person, but he was lucky enough to have found someone who accepted that and didn't let him bring them down. Mrs. Lovett was truly a saint for dealing with him, chances are no one else would have been able to.
"It's not your fault you've been wronged" a voice said from the door, he looked up to see Mrs. Lovett standing there her hair dishevelled, still in her night gown.
"I know" he said quietly, his voice coated with sorrow.
Walking over to him she sat down "then why torture yourself?"
"I'm so used to not having anyone, so used to being alone that I just can't believe that for once I'm not" he sighed heavily "so many years I've spent in hell, I've just grown used to that"
Leaning closer she placed a hand on his leg "you're free now, and you have people who love you. I will always be here and you know that"
Sweeney nodded slightly, but she wasn't convinced. Not wanting to upset him she remained silent, sitting next to him, her hand still on his leg.
They sat together for what seemed like ages, Sweeney had moved from having his head in his hands to leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed.
It pained Mrs. Lovett to see him like that, but she knew there was nothing she could do to really help him.
"I'm sorry" he said quietly, not opening his eyes or moving in the slightest.
"For what?" she asked looking up at him.
"This..." he said referring to his current mood "I don't mean to be so..." he trailed off
Mrs. Lovett kissed his cheek softly "It's all right, I understand."
Unwillingly he began to feel himself drift asleep, the beginning of a dream edging its way into his mind.
Sweeney struggled against the shackles clasped around his wrists but it was no use.
The town's executioner laughed at his struggle, gripping the chain that held his hands together firmly, he dragged Sweeney into the center of what seemed to be their courtyard, gesturing for the towns folk to watch as spectators.
Stumbling behind the man, Sweeney continued to be dragged to wherever it was they were going.
A small child tugged on his mother's dress, asking a silent question. The mother nodded her approval pushing the child towards where they were leading Sweeney.
Giggling deviously, the child ran up behind him, driving his small foot into the back of Sweeney's knee, making him grunt and drop down onto them.
The executioner laughed, taking a chain from the bench, in front of which he was kneeling unwillingly, and hooked it to the chain restraining his hands.
Swiftly Sweeney wrenched his hands away from the bench trying to break himself free, earning laughs from the spectators as he remained chained.
He tried again, mustering what little strength he had left as he ripped his arms away from their prison.
The sharp edges of the shackles cut deeper into his wrists than they ever had before, making him cry out in agony, instantly slacking the chain, trying to relieve the stress on the bleeding wounds.
The executioner grabbed a fist full of his hair, jerking his head back violently.
"You're not getting free" he spat, the mask he wore making his Spanish accent even harder to understand.
Sweeney tried to pull away, only making the man tighten his grip.
"I want you to grovel" he demanded, unhooking the long whip from his belt.
"No" Sweeney growled, his voice hoarse and strained.
The man grunted, throwing Sweeney's head forwards so that it came in contact with the bench, hitting it hard.
He could feel the warm blood running down his face.
Taking out a knife, the masked man slit open the back of Sweeney's shirt, ripping off the rest of it. Tossing the shredded article of clothing aside, he began to back up, dragging the long whip across the dirt.
Sweeney kept his head down, taking the chain in front of him in his hands, gripping it hard as he braced himself for what was to come.
Sweat rolled down his back as the hot sun beat against his skin, making him wince as the sweat dripped into his unhealed welts on his back from the last town he was in.
"I see I am not de first to punish you for crimes" the man called over to him, twisting the whip in his hands "never de less, dat will make dis much more fun"
Pulling the whip back, the back brought it into the air, cracking it hard against Sweeney's back.
His grip tightened on the chains as he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.
Biting his lips together, he fought the cry trying to escape them.
Another crack, Sweeney trembled against the bench, warm blood flowing down his back.
Again, he squeezed his eyes tighter, his hands gripping the chain so hard it cut into his palms.
"Will you grovel now?" the man yelled bringing the whip down on him again.
Sweeney shook his head.
"Trying to be strong are you? Trying not to show your pain?"
The crowd laughed.
"Cry, cry like a little girl"
Sweeney made no sound as the whip ripped more flesh off his back.
He could tell the executioner was getting angry with his silence, this made him smirk... he was getting to him, and that made him feel triumphant.
The whip came down harder this time, making him flinch.
It came again, the masked man screamed as he tore up Sweeney's back, he was getting angrier, and his lashings were getting harder and more frequent.
Bringing his arm up over his head, he cracked the whip as hard as he could.
Sweeney cried in agony, arching his back against the pain.
The executioners menacing laugh haunted him as he collapsed against the bench, shaking violently.
The sound of the spectator's laughter enraged him, but there was nothing he could do, he was in no position to threaten them to stop, or defend himself in any way. He was trapped.
Hooking the whip back onto his belt, the man walked over to Sweeney, unhooking him from the bench.
Sweeney didn't move, he didn't want to do anything, he just wanted to be away from these people.
"Get up" the man ordered
Sweeney didn't move.
"I said get up!" the man shouted
Grabbing onto Sweeney's shoulder, he pulled him backwards onto the dirt.
He whimpered as he hit the hard earth, the dirt mixing with his blood, sticking to the wounds making them burn.
The executioner grabbed the chain in between his wrist and began pulling him across the ground, making him cry out in pain, drowning out the town's laughter.
"Stop! Please!" Sweeney cried, silently cursing his vulnerability.
The masked man laughed "now you grovel, look everyone! De man who was apparently strong, is begging me to stop!" he leaned over Sweeney "you are not-ing but weak and feeble" he mocked.
Sweeney could tell, even with the mask on, that he was smiling.
Urgently he was lifted off the ground to his feet.
The man held him up by the shackles, making them dig into his wrists.
Taking his chipped and ragged nails, the man dragged them down Sweeney's back, making him gasp and choked back the tears stinging his eyes.
The executioner let go of the chain. Sweeney dropped to his knees, unable to stand.
"We are done wit him, his has paid for 'is crime" he said to another man in a mask, who walked out of the crowd carrying a set of keys.
"You can let 'im go" the executioner finished, turning and leaving Sweeney with the other man.
The newcomer chuckled as he looked down at Sweeney trembling on the ground. Dirt stuck to his back where blood had mixed with it and dried, though some of the welts were still bleeding fiercely.
Grabbing onto the chain just like the executioner had, the newcomer wrenched Sweeney up by, making him stand though he wasn't able to.
Taking the keys he shoved the right one into the lock, turning it quickly.
The first shackle clicked and fell off, making Sweeney groan as it took flesh with it, the second did the same.
He crumpled back onto the earth.
Walking over to where Sweeney kneeled for the lashings, the man picked up the remainders of his shirt, tossing them at him before walking away.
At the man's exit the crowd followed, some of the children glanced back at Sweeney before disappearing in the distance.
He did not move for what seemed like ages. His back burned and throbbed, his head was pounding as he wiped the blood from his features the best he could.
Dragging his shredded morsel of clothing towards him, he slipped it on backwards so that the slit was in the front. Blood instantly staining the fabric and he tried to roll up the sleeves. His hands were dry and cracking, cut along his fingers were healing some but not much.
Slowly he pushed himself off the ground, using the rock wall beside him as a support; he gradually started towards where he had hidden his bag the night before.
His feet were raw and sore from being forced to walk barefoot. His spirits lightened as he realised he was free to leave, free to be away from these people.
Sweeney was pleased by this thought, but couldn't avoid the anger building up inside of him as he thought about the executioner, and how he wished to go back and do the same to him.
One day... he thought I will come back and show you the pain you caused me