Sweeney Todd x reader - Our Secret

The shadows of London

Y/N POV

London isn't what i thought it would be, I thought it be some large city full of tourists and carriages, where children would roam and play around, couples walking around the park, flowers and daises blooming around the area.

But its nothing compared to the reality, the true nature that lurks within its shadows.
Sex workers linger round the ends of streets, some beggars laid across the stone floor close to some shit that seems to be thrown out. It's dreadful here. Diabolical.
All these lives, and they have nothing to live for.

I try not to pay attention to them. Keeping my scarf well over my head, only revealing small parts of my face.  It's quite cold out in these part. My dress barely does anything to keep me warm.

I turn a corner, to find what seems to be a pub at the end of a street. Men hang around the outside part, whilst a drunk roar of them sing inside, laughing and spewing shit.
I should go, avoid all these faces, but I can't.
One of the men I've came for is known to come here most nights, it took years of tracking them down, but finally i did it. The cost of doing so wasn't cheap, it was either money, or sex work to gain the information i needed. And there is no fucking way i would surrender my body to a man.

Entering the pub, I'm hit with the smell of alcohol, smoke, bile and some other rotten thing. I don't wanna know.
The place is crowded with a few dark spaces, so i take my chance is hiding in one those spaces, watching everyone, watching their behaviour.

There are some men singing in one end. Some men passed out in the other - well one looks to be dead. Poor bugger.
Then in the far end, i can see a group of men surrounding a women, each taking a turn in fucking her, sliding their cock into her mouth and cunt. She seems to be enjoying it, so i don't interfere. If it was any different, i would help her, unlike the rest of these disgusting fuckers would, no one cares for one another, only themselves.

I spend the next hour, waiting for the man with the name, Jack Wendall. He's the first on my list, he was the first to  start to massacre of my family, with beginning beating my older sister with a hammer, over and over and over again, her blood splattering all over the walls and carpet, her eyeball popping out its socket...her screams filling the air - so menacing, so desperate for help....and he just hit her...and he fucking laughed while doing so. Even after she stopped making noises.  She was only 15. Her name was Sarah. She wanted to become a journalist. She was so passionate about her future career, so excited. But now she's dead.

My eyes start to become heavy and i almost give up with tonight.
I rise and begin to head for the door, when I'm come face to face with a drunken mess, "well hello there sugar, ain't you a sight for sore eyes!"
He slurs and reeks.
I wanna throw up, but i need to leave before i lose my shit.
This whole night was a waste of time, nothing but bad flashbacks and a headache.

I push beside him, knocking him over and yelps. I don't have time for this.
He does yell out curses at me but I'm already out the door.
The cold air hits me like sharp needles and it feels nice in a way. "Ha ill see you again dear friend", i hear a man to my left say to another.
No fucking way. Jack Wendall...

He looks different, but i know its him, i know for sure its him. Blonde messy hair, which to this day still doesn't look like its been washed. His clothes look surprisingly neat, like he's recently bought them. Probably with blood money.
He has a scar across him lip and cheek which i remembered from wear he battered my sister.
My blood turns to ice and my head becomes foggy clouding my vision..
I see nothing but red...

I follow him down a street, keeping my distance. But i think he's too drunk to notice I'm here.
Or he may be just think that cause he's a man, he can do whatever the fuck he likes.