Sweeney Todd: Insanity Within

Sweeney Todd: Insanity Within (Part One)

*** I own nothing of Sweeney Todd the Demon Barber of Fleet Street. I do not own characters, songs, nothing. ***

There he stood, the barber at work. He took the clean white cloth hanging from his belt and began to drench it in blood from his razor. Cleaning the blood is cleaning the sin. Sweeney Todd paced back and forth in his parlor, waiting for another victim, waiting for some solution. His dark eyes would always drift out the window, scanning the city of London and all the scums who inhabit it. Todd wanted to kill them all, every single one of them. But he really wanted the judge, Judge Turpin. Beadle Bamford had been slaughtered days ago, but the corrupt judge still lives.

Todd had his straight razor tight in his hand, it never left him. The blade was open, giving a shining smile. Todd raised his razor up, his eyes admiring the sharp blade. He saw his face in the silver reflection and smiled. The barber rarely smiled, with the thought of never getting revenge and never seeing Lucy again, smiling seemed impossible.

His pacing back and forth continued, it was like a daily routine. As Todd began to sharpen his razor, the parlor's door creaked in and the bell at the top gave a cheerful ring. Todd looked up in hope of the judge or at least a customer, but it was only his accomplice and neighbor, Mrs. Lovett. She always wore a smile with something strange in her mind. She owned a little meat pie shop below Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor. The meat pie emporium was a bit of a dump, but it sure brought in the money.

"Mr. Todd, lunch is downstairs," She smiled. She closed the door behind her and examined Todd's shop. All that was inside was his demonized barber chair,

an empty chest, a desk, and a smashed in mirror that hid in the corner. She couldn't understand why the barber enjoyed himself alone up here. She wondered how he kept himself occupied besides slaughtering.

"I'm not hungry," Todd mumbled. He kept his eyes down and didn't dare to look at the baker.

"Mr. T, there's blood all over your sleeves," Mrs. Lovett pointed out. Todd was use to blood on the sleeves, and use to Mrs. Lovett constantly annoying him in any way possible.

"I'll clean it later," Todd hissed annoyed. He was in his chair, dragging the blade of his razor up and down the sharpening board.

"You go through like ten shirts a day. Killin' people ain't gonna solve nothing, love. But I do guess it gets us both the money. So... lunch?" Mrs. Lovett stood next to Todd, watching him. Todd hated when she was around, beckoning for attention.

"I told you I'm not hungry," Todd stood up to get away and placed the sharpening board on his desk. He slipped his razor in his holster, next to another one.

"Cmon, love. It'll take your mind off of..."

Todd turned quick on his heels, knowing what she was about to say. His eyes were dark and merciless.

"...things." Mrs. Lovett took a step back and excused herself out. Todd turned back and faced himself in the mirror. He saw a lost soul in the mirror, a poor man longing for is life back. But he won't be the doormat under everyone's feet. Todd began to pace back and forth, feeling completely lost.

Mrs. Lovett reached downstairs and closed up her shop for the hour. It seemed everyday she would ask Todd to come downstairs, he would deny, and it would only be her and Toby making the most of things.

Toby was in the bake house, making more pies with the 'secret' ingredient. The boy was still unaware of the sickening mastermind plan Mrs. Lovett had came up with weeks ago. Putting human bodies into pies sounded nothing like her, but it was. Toby was always suspicious of Todd and found Mrs. Lovett just a victim who had fallen in love.