Drabbles and Whatnot

~Imagine Eight~

Film: Sweeney Todd (Tim Burton adaptation)
Characters: Sweeney and Mrs Lovett
this one is a little gory and graphic (it's not much but just in case you don't like that sorta thing then you might wanna skip) so just be warned

The razor slips through the man's neck like butter, blood spurting out of the wound and onto my clothes. I remain impassive as I flick the switch on the chair and watch as he slides back into the gaping hole behind him. The trapdoor closes firmly and he's gone.

Funny isn't it? I didn't even know his name but I know how he screams. Or rather, how he'd screamed. It had been low and guttural as he choked on his own blood. The sound of it would have made me gag if I wasn't so far gone. But nothing could scare me now.

I hold up the razor and gaze at it, twisting it this way and that to see as the metal caught the light and glinted in it. Thick red oozes down the blade and onto the handle, coating it within seconds. My eyes narrow at the liquid and I find myself trailing my finger across it.

My finger, now covered in red, moves towards my face and then, ever so slowly mind you, towards my mouth. The liquid touches my lips and its signature metallic taste fills my mouth. I spit it out, grimacing as the smell and taste lingers.

Disgusting.

The smell of cooking flesh drifts upstairs and into my nostrils. Mrs Lovett must have been there waiting.

I turn around, razor gripped in hand, as I face the mirror. My cracked reflection stares back at me and splinters my eyes into pieces. I barely notice as the sharp edge of metal digs into my palm, spilling yet more blood onto the floor.

There's a sharp knock on the door but I ignore it. Mrs. Lovett walks in moments later, lecturing me about this and that but I hear nothing.

Instead I hear the drip of precious rubies as they slide delicately from my fingers and onto the wooden floor. Each one lands with graceful plop and I continue to stand there in a wasteland of my own devise.

I remain impassive.