Axel turned on the dull corner that entered into Fleet Street. His hands were tucked into his pockets and his eyes looked forward, blank and unreadable. He looked to his right, seeing the familiar bakery that used to always go to when Roxas was pregnant with Naminé. He snickered and walked faster, knowing he would run into what he was looking for sooner or later.

The streets were mildly crowded with Nobodies and merchants from other worlds. The sound of their offers of their merchandise and prices went in and out of Axel's head. He ignored them, though, knowing he wasn't about to stop and buy something. He took his hands out of his pocket and continued to walk at a faster pace this time.

Two minutes passed and he was already lost. Seemed like the past couple of years had begotten him, since he could almost barely remember where his actual home was. Fleet Street, yes, but still, the years had been bad to his memory.

He passed shop after shop, wondering when it all would end. Never before had he seen Fleet Street so polluted with market. It almost made his stomach lurch.

But he passed one shop, unaware of which one he passed. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. He remembered that building. He remembered it perfectly. He turned and saw in front of him his shop. A small smile peaked at him and cracked fully onto his lips. He walked toward the door and made the smile evaporate.

It wasn't easy, seeing what he saw next. He opened the dirty glass door, closing it lightly. It definitely wasn't his shop anymore or home. It was the home of a rancid meat odor and roaches and mice. His nose rose in disgust at how the place had gone down from when he last saw. He recalled, looking out at the sign, that it said, "Mrs. Larxene's Meat Pies."

And what was also different was the fact there was someone in his house. A woman, no older than twenty-four, chopped meat vicously with an odd looking knife. She had bright blonde hair tied into two messy buns and then two antenna-like bangs swayed over her face.

"A customer!" She yelled with glee, throwing her knife onto the counter of meat and dough. Axel grimaced and turned to leave, knowing this wasn't where he belonged anymore.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't let him do so.

Wait!
What's your rush? What's your hurry?
You gave me such a --
Fright, I thought you was a ghost!

She fast walked up to him, guarding off the door. She patted his back and led him to a wooden chair occupied with dust.

Half a minute, can'tcher sit!
Sit you down, sit!

Axel attempted to stand back up but was only pushed back down by her. He looked up at the woman with emotionless eyes, gripping the ends of the chair with his fingers. She walked away from him turning her head over her shoulder. She walked behind the counter and began to work with the dough and meat, throwing it there to there.

All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks!
Did you come here for a pie, sir?

Do forgive me if me head's a little vague -

A roach crawled itself within two inches of her hand. Her fingers caged it and squashed it throwing it aside. She stared down at it with disgust.

What is that?
But you think we had the plague!
From the way that people
keep avoiding --
No you don't!
Heaven knows I try, sir!

She poured some sort of chunky substance into the cooked pie, supposedly meat, and slapped onto the platter before her. She walked around the counter and to Axel, laying the platter in front of him. He recoiled away from it since the smell was unbearable. He observed it, being careful to get to close to it. d

But there's no one comes in even to inhale!
Right you are, sir, would you like a drop of ale?
Mind you, I can't hardly blame them!

She swayed over to him and set her hands onto her hips. A small dough roller was in her hand, almost falling out. She continued while Axel stared at the…pie that lay in front of him.

These are probably the worst pies you've tasted.
I know why nobody cares to take them!
I should know!
I make them!
But good? No...
The worst pies in you've tasted...
Even that's polite! The worst pies you've tasted!
If you doubt it take a bite!

Axel picked the pie up and balanced it in his hands. Hesitantly, he moved forward and took a small bite from it. An odd crunching noise came from it, along with the popping of meat bubbles. He made a face and tried suppressing it, spitting it out when she turned to get him something to drink.

Is that just, disgusting?
You have to concede it!
It's nothing but crusting!
Here drink this, you'll need it.

She sat down a small shot of ale in front of him, and he took it without hesitation. Swigging it down quickly, he glanced at her, wondering if he had offended her in any way. She raised her thin eyebrows, knowing his reaction was going to happen sooner or later. She fast walked behind the counter again and brought out another kneed of dough.

The worst pies you've tasted
and no wonder with the price of meat
what it is
when you get it.

She hit the dough with her rolling pin as if it weren't even a care in the world.

Never thought I'd live to see the day.
Men'd think it was a treat
findin' poor
animals
what are dyin' in the street.
Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop.
Does a business, but I notice something weird?
Lately, all her neighbors' cats have disappeared.
Have to hand it to her!
What I calls,
enterprise!
Poppin' pussies into pies!
Wouldn't do in my shop!
Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick!
And I'm telling you them pussycats is quick.

She popped another pie into the oven behind her piling more small coals into it. She closed the door to it and wiped her hands off on her dress, flattening it out. She put her elbows onto the counter top and leaned down, chin in hands. She tapped her cheeks with the pads of her fingers and watched him dissect the pie.

No denying times is hard, sir!
Even harder than the worst pies you've tasted.
Only lard and nothing more-

She had walked over onto the opposite side of the counter, leaning back. He looked at her, wiping his hand away of the rotted meat.

Is that just revolting?
All greasy and gritty?
It looks like it's molting!
And tastes like...

She paused shortly between her words, afraid of explaining what it actually tasted like.

…we'll pity.
A woman alone...with limited wind
And the worst pies you've tasted!

Her back arched slightly as she stretch her arms over her head. She dropped them back at her sides lazily and looked at him again, both Axel and the destroyed meat pie.

Ah, sir
Times is hard.
Times is hard.

She stopped and took the cooked meat pie out of the oven with a small paddle, laying it back down onto the top of the counter. She added the meat into it, it making an audible plopping noise. She grimaced slightly and covered it up with a baked part of the pie.

Axel paid no attention, though. He looked up at the ceiling drumming his fingers on the wooden table. His free hand gripped the end of his knee as he bit his lip lightly. He swore, at one time in his life, she had called this meat pie shop. He clicked his tongue to his the roof of his mouth, realizing he still had the dreaded taste in it. He grabbed the bottle of ale she had provided him with and swigged more down trying to get the taste out.

She glanced up at him and smirked.

"Trust me, dearie," She said, getting his attention, "It's gonna take a lot more than ale to wash that taste down."

He barely removed the bottle from his lips when he stared sharply at her. She smirked and walked out of the counter.

"Here, come with me," She said, "I'll get you a nice drop of jinn, aye?"

She walked towards the back of the shop glancing back at him to follow. He cautiously stood up and followed her, almost refusing to put the ale down. He dropped it down on the table and followed her, wood floor creaking.

She was already half way there when Axel had stopped. His eyes had moved toward his side and saw a staircase that led upstairs. He looked away, eyes depressed, and continued to follow her.

"Ain't this homey, now?" She said, in her living room. She had grabbed a bottle of jinn and a small cup pouring it in, "Got it for a bargain too. Only half singed from when the chapel burned down."

She swished the drink around tin the cup before handing it to him. He took it away from her slowly, eyes still on the staircase.

"Come, sit down," She said, putting the alcohol away, "Rest your bones for a while."

He glimpsed over his shoulder at her, and then walked away to where her couch was setting himself down on it.

"You want more room for this shop, yeah?" He asked, certain she'd say yes, "If times are so hard why don't you rent it out?"

Her eyes widened lightly at his words as they looked up at the ceiling.

"What up there?" She said, "No one will go near it."

A grand piano caught his attention and he stared at it, blankly. She stared at him, though, wondering why she had such a curiosity towards him. She glanced down at the floor and then looked back at him.

"People think it's haunted."

Axel's head whipped over his shoulder from her words. His eyes were wider, taken back by her comment on the upstairs room, or what people had believed to have been true. He sat up, still staring in disbelief.

"Haunted?" He quoted.

"Yeah," She said lightly, "Doubt to say that they're wrong."

Slowly she walked over by him, hands apart.

"You see," She started, "Years ago, something happened up there. Something not very nice."

She sat herself down in a separate chair, never taking her gaze off him.

There was a barber and his wife.
And he was beautiful...
A proper artist with a knife,
but they transported him for life.
And he was beautiful...

Axel's eyes narrowed at the way she explained his life.

"Barker, his name was," She said, "Lae Barker."

He looked as if he was going to cry. Memories came back to him, of Roxas, of Naminé. He furrowed his brows tighter together.

"What was his crime?" He asked voice hoarse.

"Foolishness," She responded looking down to the ground and back at him. She looked off to the side, out the window.

He had this wife, you see
Pretty little thing
Silly little nit
Had his chance for the moon on a string
Poor thing
Poor thing

There was this judge, you see
Wanted him like mad
Every day he sent him a flower
But did he come down from his tower
Sat up there and sulked by the hour
Poor fool
Ah, but there was worse yet to come, poor thing

His eyes grew cloudy and he looked down afraid to hear more. His nostrils flared, though, at the sound of the judge.

Well, Beadle calls on him all polite
Poor thing
Poor thing
The judge, he tells him is all contrite
He blames himself for his dreadful plight
He must come straight to his house tonight
Poor thing
Poor thing

Of course when he goes there - poor thing, poor thing,
They're havin' this ball all in masks
There's no one he knows there - poor dear, poor thing
he wanders, tormented and drinks - poor thing
The judge has repented, he thinks - poor thing
Oh, where is Judge Turpin?' he asks
He was there alright
Only not so contrite

Her voice tensed and became more frantic and Axel's finger nails dug into the cushion of the couch. His throat begged to scream.

He wasn't no match for such craft, you see
And everyone thought it so droll
They figured he had to be daft, you see
So all of them stood there and laughed, you see
Poor soul
Poor thing

"NO!"

Axel's voice boomed in through the air as he shot up to his feet. His fists were clenched tightly into red fists that the blonde woman claimed to see fire spark in. He calmed himself by breathing lightly.

"Would no one have mercy on him?" He asked, voice stricken with hate.

Larxene's green eyes widened half their size and stared up at him. Her hand was over her chest as she breathed heavily from his sudden outbreak.

She could see, though, this wasn't any ordinary man that was dreadfully feeling sympathy for this family. She could tell by the look in his eyes this was indeed Lae Turner.

"So it is you," She whispered, "Lae Barker."

"Where is Roxas?" He asked, "Where is my wife?"

"Stabbed himself," She told him. His face flushed, "Keyblade. Try'd to stop him."

A tear strayed down Axel's cheek and his mouth hung open. He thought to himself, after all the years of dreaming of coming home to a wife and child, nothing.

"And he's got your daughter," She told him.

"He?" He quoted, knowing who he was, "Judge Xemnas?"

She hesitated to speak to him, afraid he would yell again.

"Adopted her," She told him, looking down, "Like his own."

He walked away from her slowly, wood creaking lightly. He looked off and out the window, eyes cloud.

"Fifteen years" He murmured, "Staying, in a living hell. Fifteen years dreaming, I might come home to a wife and child."

Larxene sighed sympathetically and stood up from her chair, looking toward Axel's back.

"Well, I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you," She admitted. Her eyes made their way to the back of his head, "Mr. Barker."

"No!" He boomed again, "Not Barker. That man is dead. It's Todd now. Axel Todd. And he will have his revenge."