Broken Hearts And Razors ||| A Sweenett story

The Waltz Of The Dead

Sweeney's eyes suddenly opened, hearing a blood-curling scream from downstairs. His hands gripped the arm of the chair, his mind trying to adapt to once again being awakened only after a few minutes of sleep. He attentively listened to the deafening silence that filled the room, wondering if he would hear the cry again. After a few seconds of absolute silence, a little voice at the back of his mind nagged him to go downstairs and see what was happening. He tried pushing it away, but the worry didn't go away, only pestering him further, annoying the barber. Letting out a growl, the barber took large and heavy steps towards the bakehouse, his heart hammering against his chest, something he hadn't felt for a long time. Though he could never admit it to anyone, let alone himself, the man felt worried for the red-haired baker, and every step he took was more hurried and loud. Removing the various latches from the metal door, Sweeney was growing more and more frustrated with the amount of security the door held. Once all of the locks were out of the way, he pried the door open, the creaking unpleasantly vibrating in his ears. His eyes caught the figure of the baker. The woman was standing as still as a statue, and for a second, he wondered if she was truly alive.

"Why'd you scream?"

Sweeney's voice startled the woman, and she swiftly turned to him, her eyes wide. Her skin looked paler than usual, shock evident on her face. The barber noticed she was slightly trembling, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other resting on top of her bosom in an attempt to calm her breathing down. Mrs. Lovett was never scared of his victims. After all, it was her job, but he had never seen such horror in her eyes, not after the day he killed Pirelli.

"You killed him..."

Eleanor's voice was unusually soft, barely above a whisper. Sweeney didn't react, standing still, trying to figure out why the woman was acting in such a strange way.

"You bloody killed him," Her voice was a bit louder this time, anger bubbling, "What happened to "killing people who won't be missed?" Huh? Or are you taking out your fury on any object that moves nowadays?"

It was Sweeney's turn to get irritated. The woman in front of him was being unreasonable. He had every right to kill the pretentious, pompous, and arrogant bloke.

"The man didn't have a family I had every reason to-"

"THE MAN WORKS FOR THE JUDGE!" Eleanor's voice boomed, bouncing off the walls and echoing through the bakehouse, starting a commotion between the mice in the sewers, all of them running around, squeaking.

After the echo calmed down, the only sounds that could be heard in the bakehouse were the dance of the flames and Eleanor's deep breaths. Sweeney didn't move an inch, trying to bite back a small smile that was etching itself onto his face.

The silence was deafening, and Eleanor's frown didn't leave her face, trying to read Sweeney's expression. She knew Sweeney was mad, but that man was an absolute mystery to her. Both of their lives were in danger, and here he was, a smirk slowly forming itself on his pale face. Each step he took towards her, she was getting more and more unsettled. She knew that by instinct she should step back, or more logically, run, but she was so captivated by the mystery of a man before her that she could do nothing but stand still until he was just inches away from her. His hand snaked around her waist, and for a second, Eleanor thought she forgot how to breathe. He took her left hand into his right one, entwining their fingers together. Eleanor couldn't help but marvel at the way her small palm fit perfectly in his large hand. He started guiding the two of them around the dark, cold room, the pair slowly falling into a flawless, elegant waltz. The baker forgot all their troubles as she stared into the man's dark eyes, a smile full of adoration spread on her face. Sweeney's grin hadn't disappeared either.

Truth to be told Sweeney knew what kind of effect he had on the woman before him. The fact that they, well, he had killed the stupid man was a huge win for him, for it would bring the judge straight here, where Sweeney would have his final revenge at last. He just needed to get on Mrs Lovett's good side for her to listen to him. Because once that woman set her mind on something, there was almost no one who could change her mind.

And Sweeney didn't need to be a genius to know that the exception was him.

They waltzed and waltzed there was not a hint of music in the room, only the squeaks of the rats echoing from the sewers, but they moved in sync as if their hearts were the metronome beating at the same speed. But neither of them heard it. The silence was so piercing that Eleanor began to hear her thoughts so loudly, she got scared that Sweeney wouldn't hear them. Eleanor's subconsciousness was telling her to finish the fight she had started with Sweeney, but her heart argued that whatever the fight was about, it was probably something stupid and she should simply enjoy the feeling of being in Sweeney's arms.

"Tell me, Mrs Lovett," Sweeney spoke, spinning the woman around, making Eleanor squeal in surprise, before once again facing her partner, falling back into the waltz, him leaning close to her ear "is it necessary to bake this man into a pie?" He pulled back, their hands still entwined, both of them twirling around the room without realising how long they had been dancing for. "I fear it will be incredibly bitter" His evil grin was wide, making Eleanor roll her eyes at him, but letting a corner of her mouth curl upwards.

"Oh please," she scoffed, "if anything, the man might be sickeningly sweet."

"A man who works for Turpin? Oh pet, I really do not think so-"

The waltz came to a natural stop, Eleanor gazing into Sweeney's eyes while he was staring intently at hers. The barber slowly backed away, his eyes drifting to the corpse still laying on the bakehouse floor.

"So," he cleared his throat, "what are we going to do with him?"

Eleanor walked to the other side of the deceased man, putting her hands on her hip. "Well, we certainly cannot put him in a pie if you know what I mean." brushing a stray hand off her sweaty forehead, Eleanor crouched down to the body, rummaging through the man's pockets, pulling out different coin purses, handling them to Sweeney. Once all the man's pockets were turned inside out and the money was safely tucked away in either Sweeney's waistband or Eleanor's corset, the pair decided to burn the body, to leave absolutely no trace of their unholy crimes

"We can't risk them finding his bones or anything like that if they decide to investigate," the baker murmured, dragging the corpse by its armpits to the door of the oven, whose flames were now rising with more and more anticipation, waiting to devour the next victim that got in its way.

Sweeney once again smirked at his companion, admiring her intelligence

"Mrs Lovett, you're a bloody wonder..."

A/N: This is more of a filler chapter :D very sorry for the long wait, had quite a lot of things coming up at school but I'm back! 

All comments are extremely appreciated and I have the best time reading them :)

Also, this book has more than 100 reads! How cool is that? Thank you so much to everyone who reads this!

Also, if you know anyone who you think would like this book, sharing is very encouraged :D (sorry for the shameless plug)

Well, I'll be heading off to sleep now, but I really do thank everyone for reading this, it means the world to me