"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with shit and the vermin of the world inhabit it... but not for long." - Sweeney Todd

They all deserve to die.

I am merely biding my time, waiting for my chance to take my revenge. Revenge on the man who took my wife, my daughter. The corrupt judge who sent me away on false charges so that he could have what was mine. That bastard who abused my Lucy, drove her to take arsenic. Who raised my Joanna as her own. She wouldn't even know I am her father now.

And that is for the best.

Her father, the man I was, Benjamin Barker, is dead. Now I live as Sweeney Todd. Slitting the throats of the poor fools who enter my barber shop. Their sanguine fluid feeding my bloodlust as their bodies feed the people of London in Mrs. Lovett's shop.

Mrs. Lovett. That brilliant woman whose idea it was to grind up the bodies to fill her meat pies. A foolish woman, who thought that I could love her. But no matter. I would use her for as long as she served my purpose.

It wasn't long before wives came looking for their missing husbands. I used my charms to deal with them. Sometimes my good looks were enough to bring them to my bed. Other times it took a few lies. Stories of cheating husbands, a few comforting words, praises that they had not heard in too long sometimes did the trick. More often then not, I seduced them.

Some I would enter from behind, my fingers wrapped around their throats. I could feel their essence pulsing through them, the skin stretched thin over their delicate necks. With a smile on my lips I would slash them open. Their cries of passion interrupted by the gurgling, bubbling sound of their life leaving them.

Others preferred to ride me, bouncing atop me, thinking themselves in charge. Myself, I enjoyed the view, especially the look on their faces when at the moment of climax, with a glint of light on my razors, I would slice them. Their bodies balancing a moment, showering me with blood before they collapsed.

And if they could not be tempted to enjoy the pleasures I could give them, I simply dispatched them where they stood, my razors dripping precious rubies on the floor.

Oh we all deserve to die.

Welcome to the darker side of Blane's 13 Days of Halloween - Revisited!

If you've missed any days, you can check them out here.