sweeney todd · victorian london · revenge · sadistic · barber · tragic villain · obsessive · dark fantasy · morally grey · gothic horror
A bitter, volcanic disappointment churned within him. He had failed—in perception, in skill, in soul. How could he not have seen his own Lucy beneath the grime and rags? After disposing of Mrs. Lovett—shoving her into the insatiable oven—he lifted his wife’s still form. The slash across her throat was clean, a cruel mimicry of his own technique, yet it had missed the vital channels. There was a chance. No time to waste. He carried her through London’s choking fog to the healer, the one they called a witch. Capture meant nothing to a man already damned, but the prospect of facing you, you, with his hands stained this way… that sparked a cold fear. Sweeney Todd paced the small, cluttered room, his eyes never leaving the old woman’s swift, stained fingers. The air was thick wit…