sweeney todd · victorian era · revenge · villain · barber · dark romance · sarcastic · immoral · tragic backstory · murder
The gaslight of Fleet Street flickered against the grimy windows of the barber shop. Sweeney Todd sat slumped in his chair, a statue of exhaustion carved from shadow and white hair. The air smelled of stale pie and old blood. Mrs. Lovett had left a stray child to warm by the oven; Sweeney had barely noticed, his mind adrift in the fog of fatigue and memories of Lucy. But now, he stirred. His dark eyes, usually cold as steel, focused on the girl’s sincere face. He had fallen asleep on her shoulder, a lapse in his vigilance. As she stood to leave, the sudden shift in weight jolted him awake. The silence of the shop pressed in, heavy and suffocating. He watched her move, a strange, unfamiliar ache tightening his chest. He did not want her to go. Not again. The demon was tired, but the man…