Dead Shattered Hearts {Sweeney Todd Fanfiction}

"That Man is Dead"

I DO NOT OWN SWEENEY TODD AND OTHER CHARACTERS

The man that once breathed air stumbled into a straight line of people he's never seen before all wearing white robes. Where the hell was he? He rubbed his dark, sleepless eyes to be sure he wasn't dreaming and sure enough he wasn't. He quickly turned around and noticed he was at the end of this random line. Then a second past and he wasn't the last in line. A man appeared out of no where; dressed in the same white robes.

The question was no longer where the hell was he, but also what the hell is going on? The man seemed strange. The stench of death crawled off his body, or was it the stench of his own? The line moved up a step and the man who stood behind Sweeney Todd shoved him, which obviously pissed Todd off.

"What the hell, don't you push me!" Todd hissed. The more he focused on the man he realized dried blood trickled down the side of his head. A gun wound. A bullet to the head, and he was alive? No, he couldn't of been. The man was dead.

"Well move up in the line and I won't push you," the man argued back and faced forward; not really looking at the barber.

Todd turned around and took a step up and looked down to the ground. These weren't his clothes. Last time he checked his clothes were covered in the judge's blood.

The line moved up another step.

The barber's eyes scanned his surroundings. It was some dungeon looking room. Cement walls, cement floors, and a cement ceiling. Few lights were hanging on the walls and by every light stood a large, buff man wearing all black. It's as if they were to gain any more muscles they would rip their shirts into shreds. There were at least five of them; glaring at the line. As much as Todd wanted to leave the line and get some answers, he was feared if he were to act the large men would attack him to the ground. Instead of jumping out of the line of nonsense, Todd moved his head to where he could see what was up at the front. There he spotted a gray looking booth with someone looking like some corpse inside it. The barber furrowed his brow in confusion.

The line wasn't too terribly long and happened to move at quite the speed. There who was next to encounter the strange booth was a lonesome baker. Her once auburn curls were now almost black and skin as if it was cooked. It was only a few minutes after her terrifying death which was being thrown into a pit of flames by a demon. She too wore the same white robes as everyone else. Her shoes were gray with tall, black socks. Her pants ended to her ankles and sleeves ending just past her fingertips.

A rotting corpse sat inside the gray booth with stacks of paper piling before her. It was only a matter of minutes until the corpse had a paper avalanche. She held a file of papers in one hand and a stamp with red ink in the other. How was she alive? She was a corpse! Nothing but pale skin and rotting bones.

Eleanor Lovett approached the booth and scanned the inside of it. A large file cabinet stood behind the corpse. It looked as if it were to explode and papers would fill the air. A short desk was pushed to a wall with one single paper lying on top and a large, vibrant red stamp stood on it. The words were hard to make out, but under the large stamp were a few scribble scrabble words written in black pen.

"Name?" The corpse asked in a raspy voice. She flipped through a few sheets of paper in a file and pushed her thick glasses close to her eyes.

"Where the bloody hell am I?" Lovett asked; ignoring the corpse's question. She continued looking around, trying to at least find something familiar.

"Ma'am, what's your name?" The corpse repeated, this time looking straight at the baker.

"Answer my question first," Lovett ordered. "Where the hell am I?"