Chapter 2
It had been a week since his landlady's unfortunate death, long enough, Sweeney decided, to reopen the barber shop. So on September 17, the glass door sported a proud "Open" sign and so far, business was going strong. Sweeney had decided that killing his customers was inconvenient for the time being, which was quite frustrating, as it turned out. But there had been no Nellie sightings yet, so Sweeney counted it as a good day.
"Good morning, sir!" he greeted his next customer, a fat balding man shaped rather like a potato. "How may I service you today?" The man sat down with a nasty creaking noise and undid his tie.
"Jus' a shave," he mumbled, leaning back and closing his eyes. Oh, how perfect he would have been for a pie! But, alas, Sweeney was forced to run his shining razor over the fat neck without doing any harm. But he couldn't resist from nicking the man a tiny bit. The single red bead of blood was enough to send shivers of longing so strongly through him that his vision blurred.
Sweeney groaned as his customer began to snore loudly. What he wouldn't give to be able to spill all of his radiant rubies!
"You miss it, dontcha, dearie," came a highly familiar voice from the corner of the room. "I can understan' that. Can't say I miss makin' them pies, though. This 'un would've been particularly squishy." Sweeney looked up in dread. Mrs. Lovett stood, casual as you please, in the corner by the chest that had once held Pirelli's body. She examined her nails nonchalantly, then looked up.
"Surprised to see me, are ya, love?" She laughed. "Yeah, well, I'm surprised to be here, frankly. Sure I woulda been burnin' still, 'cept in a different place." She gestured towards the floor while Sweeney made an incoherent gurgling sound, his hand frozen in mid-swipe.
"Lookin' kinda pale, dearie..." His lips moved soundlessly.
"You...you're dead. I burned you up, I burned you, you're dead, why aren't you DEAD!" Sweeney launched himself at the tall, slim figure, razor held in front of him like a sword. He slammed into the wall with a tremendous crash. Nellie was gone.
Sweeney looked down on the rubies that spilled over his hands blankly, wondering why his head hurt so much. The razor was stuck firmly in the wall, and the last thing he heard before falling unconscious was his customer calling "Huh? Wha'? 'Ey, woss goin' on?"
"Nellie," he moaned upon waking. His eyes slowly focused on Coraline's fat face. A cold cloth was dripping icy water down his face and from under it came a low throbbing pain. Coraline had been a good friend of Nellie's who had taken it upon herself to help Sweeney through his "grief." His customer was nowhere to be seen. Presumably, Coraline had escorted him out.
"No, darling, Nellie's dead," Coraline said soothingly. "Remember? I giss you tripped or somethin'. That's a big bump on yer 'ead, there. You feel all right?" Sweeney sat up slowly, brushing Coraline's hand away impatiently.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine, but didn't you--" Suddenly he thought better of mentioning his little visions to Coraline. For all he knew, he could end up in the asylum. "Never mind. I'm fine, you can go now." Coraline obeyed, casting a worried glance at Sweeney.
Nellie
Ooh, I got 'im good, didn't I? thought Nellie to her voice.
"Yes, you did very well, my dear." Nellie laughed again.
Didja see the look on his face? Hah! He won't be gettin' over me anytime soon. Her thoughts were gleeful. The voice chuckled softly.
"No, darling," then in a quieter voice, "neither of us shall be forgotten."
Hmm? What was that? thought Nellie absently.
"Nothing, nothingggg..."