Welcome to my rewrite. I wrote a Sweeney Todd fanfic way back called Haunted Dreams, and I abandoned it due to lack of making any progress. I really hit a wall with it, and I couldn't think up any ideas, so I decided that I was going to go back and fix some things, but while re-reading it, I decided that I hate it. So here I am, I thought up a whole new story, very similar to the last, but with changes. You don't have to know what Haunted Dreams is to enjoy this one. And I do hope you'll enjoy this, please let me know. Thanks guys, its good to be back on here.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd or Mrs. Lovett.
In the Flames
Sometimes when she was bored… she would stare at the flames. They felt so calming, comforting. Staring at the embers made the cold world disappear. She looked at the flames when her mother yelled at her for being different, when her brother was cruel, when her father left for the war and never returned. Whenever Albert was abusive to her, when her business fell under, and she was all alone. Something about the flames gave her strength. She never imagined dying by them.
They we're spinning, spinning, the click of their shoes on the stone where they stepped. She felt so happy staring into those onyx eyes. She knew they would be the death of her, somehow, she always knew. Others may think her strange, feeling such joy in her hour of doom. She couldn't help it, she loved him so much that it hurt. It hurt her heart more than any hardship she's faced in the past. She felt pain now, knowing that she was going to die before getting her life with him.
The flames were getting closer.
She was fully aware. His eyes were lying to her. He called her "my love" minutes ago but he didn't mean it. She's not the only one lying tonight. His eyes flashed to hatred, a deep burning. Looking into them made her eyes well with tears. She loosened her grip on his shoulder, ready to let go.
How pitifully unfair. Dying by the one you love. Is that what her life as worked its way up to?
"Really living it!" he shouts in rage.
He positioned his hand, ready to sling her into the oven. At the last second, she threw her weight at his right, landing on the floor instead of in the flames. He growled at her, bending down to pick her up. She rolled out of the way, the heel of her boot colliding with his shoulder, knocking him backwards onto his arse. She took the opportunity to stand up, backing herself into the corner.
She froze. Unsure of what she was doing. She already gave up. Why was she fighting him? She knew, knew that she couldn't win. He was back on his feet already. Glaring knives into her. As sharp as the razor he pulled out. With the sound of a click, a silver light shown in the dark.
He turned on the charade again, approaching her calmly. "Come here Mrs. Lovett." He soothed. She wasn't buying it. She shook her head like a scared little girl and inched away from him. He lunged at her, grabbing her arm, slamming her against the wall. She dug her nails into his wrist. The razor fell to the ground. He didn't leave her to retrieve the thing. They both knew he could kill her without it.
He placed his hands around her throat. Squeezing the life out of her. She couldn't breathe, tears were streaming down her face onto his hands.
"Please," she choked out. "don't."
"Oh, why shouldn't I kill you Mrs. Lovett? Why!?" he spat in her face.
"I . . ."
"Is it because you love me? Is that why? You think just because you confess to me, I'll fall head over heels for you. Is that it?"
"I'm sorry. . ." Tears started streaming down her face. His grip loosened. She searched his eyes; the anger drained from them a small bit.
"Why shouldn't I kill you? Tell me why!" He shouts, slamming her into the wall.
"I'm the only one that helped you." She squeaked out. she gripped his wrist harder making him wince. "Please . . . just give me a chance . . . to explain."
By some odd miracle he listened and loosened his grip on her neck.
She kneed him in the groin, trying to make a run for the door. He threw his arms around her waist, tackling her to the floor. The blood from the dead seeping onto her dress. They wrestled in the blood on the stones. He was too strong for her. she barely managed to grab the razor before he had her pinned to the ground, hands reaching for her throat again. She held the razor to his own.
He froze, feeling the cold blade against his flesh. He let out a laugh, an evil, sick laugh. It made her cry even more, blocking her vision.
"Are you going to slit my throat Mrs. Lovett?"
All she could do was cry.
He stopped laughing. "Go ahead. I've nothing to live for now." His eyes were serious, sad even.
Her heart shattered. "You have me", she wanted to tell him.
His grip on her loosened, she quickly got to her feet, razor still in her hand pointed at him.
"Please, don't kill me" she said.
He snickered, "You're the one with the weapon my pet." The way he said pet stung. "I was going to let you explain yourself." He stood up, slowly advancing on her. she backed away.
"You have one minute." He said.
"I . . ." Nellie was at a lost for words.
"Why did you lie to me?" he asked glaring into her.
Nellie swallowed the fear in her throat. "I didn't want you to be hurt."
That answer wasn't good enough, he quickened his pace towards her. she went on before his hands would be around her neck again. "I . . . I knew that if you saw her in that state, dirty, crazed, begging for money on the streets, that it would hurt you."
"And how do you think I feel now, Mrs. Lovett?" he snarled.
"I know, I know. I didn't think she'd ever make her way into your shop." Her back hit the wall; he had her trapped into a corner yet again.
"Oh really, so that beggar women that you threw out of your shop on occasions was a different woman?" he asked.
Nellie looked down, "no, that was Lucy." She muttered.
He placed his hand on her shoulder, trapping her in place. "You really are placing yourself further into the grave my dear."
He took the razor from her. "She called you the devil's wife. That you had no pity in your heart. Care to explain that?"
"I don't know why," her brow furrowed, "After what she went through with the judge, and took the poison, she became very ill. I tried nursing her back to health while taking care of Johanna. I had my hands full; Albert had died a few months back. So, I had the shop to look after as well. One day, Lucy was just gone. I went upstairs to check on her and she disappeared." He searched her eyes as she talked, "The next day, I went out in the streets and tried to find her. I only left for a few minutes. I didn't take Johanna with me, it was cold out, and she was sleeping. I didn't know the Beadle would break in and grab her while I was gone. I did find Lucy one day, months and months ago while I was out and I approached her, tried to bring her home. She was so unlike herself, she'd gone mad Mr. T, she barely remembered who I was, who Johanna was. I told her we'd get Johanna back if she'd come home, but she wouldn't listen." She paused to catch her breath, surely a minute was up by now, how was he still letting her ramble? "She was very upset with me when I saw her again. When I told her, what had happened to Johanna she was angry with me, saying that it was my fault she got taken. And I admit that it was."
He stared at the floor in thought. For a second, Nellie was hopeful. But his eyes glared into hers again and she knew that this nightmare was not over. All she could think to do was to beg and apologize.
Tears streamed down her face again. "I'm so sorry Mr. T. I really am. If I would've been there. . . I love you, please, please I love you so much. I'd be twice the wife that she was to you. Look at what all I've done for you, I would do anything for you, anything."
He put his hand over her mouth to silence her. "Enough." He stepped away, pacing a bit, running a hand through his blood streaked hair. "I don't think you understand Mrs. Lovett. My wife is dead. I killed her because I thought she was lowly beggar. And you lied to me, withheld information, neglected to tell me that she was alive and out there because you love me? You didn't want to hurt me? Am I right?"
Sadly, she nodded. "But – "
He held up his hand, shushing her. "I appreciate you helping me get my revenge, but none of that matters now, does it?" The razor touched her skin once more. "I killed my wife, because of you. As I've said before my pet, you, like everyone, deserves to die."
"I would've stopped you." She blurted out. His brows furrowed in confusion. "If I was there, I would've stopped you from killing her, I would've told you the truth."
"Its too late now." He held his blade in the air. She braced herself for the blow. She shut her eyes, not daring to want to look at him. She wished she could have said I love you, to have those be her final words, she couldn't speak anymore. She didn't have the strength.
There was a noise in the bakehouse, someone lurking.
Why would the boy ever decide to come back? Perhaps he couldn't find his way out of the sewers. The poor thing. His small footsteps were getting closer. Sweeney turned towards her. Instead of slitting her throat like she thought, he handed her the razor.
She was utterly confused and in awe of him, then he said the most terrifying words she's ever and will ever hear.
She shook her head, "No, I... I couldn't. I..."
"I want you to feel the same pain as I have. Do it."
She shook her head, "I won't."
"Not even if I spared your life?" he asked.
The footsteps were getting closer.
"For how long?" Nellie asked him.
"Please don't." she cried, "I'd rather you'd kill me."
"So be it. After you end the boy."
"Mr. T – "
"You said, you'd do anything for me." he placed the razor in her hand.
"Ma'am! What. . . what's going on here?"
"Toby. . . listen. . ." she walked towards him.
"You're a murder!" he screamed, "both of you." Nellie's heart was breaking. "Just wait till the law finds out, you'll pay for what you've done."
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You'll. . . you'll pay." The boy's mind was in shambles after what he's seen. He wasn't even aware of the danger he was in.
"I'm so sorry."
He looked at her in horror and she got more blood on her dress.