AN: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE SWEENEY TODD: DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET FRANCHISE!
Chapter Four: Why Deny it Here?
Sweeney Todd stood in his barber shop, staring as men passed in the streets below. In his hand, he held his dearest of friends, his six shiny razors. It had been now three months since he had had his first kill. He was hungry for revenge, revenge against society. So much hunger did he feel that he had made up a machine of his own device. His barber chair, sitting in the middle of the room. He had made it so that each time he had done his murderous act, all he need do was push the lever and watch the body fall to the caverns and tunnels that flowed beneath Fleet Street. Then, the chair would swing back up and he would polish it off for the next poor soul who dared enter his shop for a shave. However, he currently only held three meaningful murders to his account of blood.
First, the foolish man who dared steal his betrothed Adallei, he after all should not have been surprised, the dear was born to be a prostitute along with her sister, second, some poor chap who had let it slip that he had a purse of money he was to give to his master. Poor thing would've lived had he kept his own mouth from running in front of the cold, greedy barber. Third, a poor young man who had been foolish enough to show off his golden pocket-watch. Had he too kept his mouth shut, he would not be lying in the stony grave of St. Dunstan's crypt. Now, something did bother the barber, but swear on his life it was never grief over the foul crimes he committed, rather the pressure that he put on his heart to steer clear of any and all love.
Of course he knew that his landlady below showed more than simple fondness of her tenant. She was a beautiful woman, no one would disagree to that. She had long, unruly curls of auburn hair that if straightened might reach well down her back. She had full lips that any man wouldn't give his life to touch with his own and an alluring stare, one that she used for simple curiosity rather than lust. She was very curious, that woman. Another reason for Sweeney to stay away from her, of course with the exception of paying her for use of the room. In fact, as these thoughts danced over through Sweeney's head as he sat polishing one of his six glistening razors, the door creaked open behind him and in came Mrs. Lovett, a tea tray in hand.
More than surprised, Sweeney jumped from his barber chair and held the razor, ready to slit whatever intruding throat dare walk into his shop during his private thoughts. The tea tray crashed to the wooden floor boards and Mrs. Lovett clasped her hands to her mouth in shock. There stood Sweeney Todd, covered in blood and holding a glistening razor in his hand. Frightened, she backed away and against the wooden frame of the wall behind him, waiting for the attack to come.
"Mrs. Lovett..." He said, half in shock half in confusion. "I promise you I have good reason for this Mrs. Lovett." He said, taking a step towards her. Her heartbeat quickened and she made a run for the door. He was faster, shutting it before she could take one step through. Raising his hands, he gently threw his razor into the chair, trying to show he would not hurt the petrified woman.
"Mis-mistah Todd... please tell me that isn't blood on your shirt?" She said, her voice quiet, but steady and firm.
"I cannot. Nor can you Mrs. Lovett." He said putting his blood-stained hands on her clean shoulders. "Now, now, Mrs. Lovett, or Nellie did you say your nickname was?" He was backing her back against the wooden walls of his shop.
"Y-yes," She said shakily, looking into his dark, cold eyes.
"No one else need know of my most... mysterious deeds, now do they?" He said in his hypnotic voice.
"Look, I 'romised meself I wouldn't get inta anymore thing's like this," She said strongly, though she was still taken by his cold stare, her heart still churning, though not out of fear, but a strange ecstasy of sorts, being pushed against the wall by Mr. Todd like this. "I told meself after me 'usband I was through with this bloody business!"
Sweeney was shocked until a sudden thought hit through his dark mind. Smiling in his twisted way, he looked at Mrs. Lovett.
"Mrs. Lovett, you did mention during one of our most delightful chats that the price of fresh meat had gone up and you could no longer afford it to make your most delectable pies?"
"Yes..." Mrs. Lovett said, wondering what he could possibly be getting at, that is until the same grueling thought flashed through her mind, creating a dancing smile upon her flirtatious lips.
"I have, the most wonderful idea of where you may acquire a most rare and delicious meat to use for your pies, one the public will be most... rioting over." He said, letting his own sickening smile grow as he said this. "After all, we live in a world where people already consume all that they hold dear, why deny it... here."