ST; Demons of Fleet Street; part 3

ST; Demons of Fleet Street; part 3

“Phew!” She looked around. The entire place was presentable, though not entirely clean. She hadn’t started on the upstairs yet, but made sure to shut and lock it last time she had gone there. Even the panel outside had in new golden letters; “Ashton’s”, it read. Fresh paint, too. She was so glad that she didn’t have to spend money on getting new things for the shop, sure, the blades needed sharpening, but everything else just needed tidying and a little fixing.

She had a copy of the Morning post, her advertisement clipping showing. “Rosalie Ashton’s meat pies” it said. Nothing much, but no doubt will catch some of their attention. She peeked out from behind the new navy and white striped curtains. Hopefully the stripes will catch more attention than the cream. If not, she had them stored away tidy.

“That man from the other day said he’d stop by…” She frowned, hands straightening out her apron. It also matched the curtains, white with navy blue flower stitching around it. Though it wasn’t her style, something cheery was sure to drag someone in. She twirled her finger around in her neatly brushed hair.

Something slid off of one of her other fingers, falling onto the floor. She chased after it, and bumped her head on the counter in the process. She fumbled around for the item she dropped. When she found it, she slid it back onto her ring finger.

Six months ago, an Irish man, James Barlow, had proposed. They had been good friends since they were little. He had died only two days after the proposal. Killed, by a roommate, David Kinglet. He had escaped from prison four months later, and she had run away from Ireland back to London, her birthplace.

She sighed at the memory. Rosalie walked outside and up the stairs to her right. She unlocked the room and opened the door. She re-locked the door behind her. Then she went back over to the vanity, opening the drawers. She emptied them, taking out all the contents and setting them on the floor. She dragged over the empty trash tin in the corner, putting the items inside, putting the least fragile items on the bottom, and the picture book on the top. She frowned.

“Something’s missing… Oh!” She walked over to the pile of shaving cloths/bibs. She carefully refolded them, checking for vermin, and set them in front of the chair. She them went to pick them up, when she heard squeaking. It was behind the chair, walking towards the lever that opened the trap door. “I thought you got ran over.” She tilted her head as it came closer to the lever. “Don’t… Move. Stop.” She told the rat. It didn’t listen and continued faster. It stopped right in front of the lever. “Good rat. Stay… And I’ll give you some cheese…” The rat jerked to attention and jumped forward onto the lever.

She let out a shriek as she tumbled down the chute, the cloths getting in her way. Her shriek cut off abruptly as she did a somersault out. She landed onto the cloths, without a scratch.

“I guess it was allergic to cheese.” She frowned as she brushed off dirt from her apron. She looked at the backside of her dress. “Oh, phooey, this was a new dress…” She looked around. “I guess this is the basement. I haven’t been down here yet.” She walked over to the furnace, opening it up. It was actually an oven!

“I wonder why they left this running. Surely it would have set the place on fire!” She slammed it shut tight. The glow from the oven illuminated the whole room. A meat grinder was in the corner, and the floor was all wet. “Oh great, more work! Just when I thought this place was nearly finished…” She noticed a glint in the corner of her eye. “That’s what was missing… The razors!” She picked it up by the wrong end.

“Ouch!” she immediately dropped it. Her hand began to bleed, red drops falling onto the silver blade. She picked up one of the shaving cloths and wiped her hand on it. The bleeding didn’t stop, so she tore off a piece and began to wrap it around her hand. The basement suddenly went from warm to freezing cold.

“What are you doing here?” Asked a voice. It was dark… A voice she hadn’t heard before. She stood up and turned around, and gasped. The razor was only millimeters away from her face. The man had a mark across his neck, and his clothes were stained with blood. She could smell it. Either that or it was the blood on her hands.

“I own this place.”

“That’s ridiculous, love. I own this place.” ‘Another person, right out of the oven!’ she thought to herself. ‘Oh, wait. That didn’t sound at all right…’

“I thought I killed you.” The man pointed the razor at the woman. She shrugged.

“You did. An lookit, you’re not much alive yourself.” The man felt along his neck.

“That bastard… He really did kill me. Then what’re we doing here?”

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt…” Rosalie began. The man put the razor back towards her.

“Right. What’s your name?” He had a deep set frown.

“Rosalie Ashton. I just bought this establishment about a few weeks ago.” She said bravely. “And you are?”

“I belive I was asking you…”

“Oh, hush. Don’t mind him. He’s always been uptight. I’m Ms. Lovett. This is Mr. Todd.” She patted his shoulder.

“Sweeney.” He said, looking away while shoving her off slightly.

“Why don’t you put your toys away and we can go upstairs? Maybe for something to eat.” Sweeney grumbled something before snapping the razor shut. The three went up stairs, Rosalie behind. They were already upstairs, waiting for Rosalie to catch up.

“Why are you waiting?” Rosalie asked.

“We wouldn’t want you to try to escape, would we?”

“Oh, be quiet. You’re not helping at all.” Rosalie opened the door, and came out, closing it after them. She went around to the front of the store, and began to unlock it.

“Ms. Ashton?” She turned around to see the man from before. She looked behind her, the two were still there. Mr. Todd and Ms. Lovett both seemed surprised that he paid no attention to them.

“Yes?” She said quietly.

“This is my wife, Johanna, and my daughter Millie.” Mr. Todd seemed even paler; as pale as dead man can get. “We read your advertisement in the post, and, as I promised, we’re here.”

“Oh. Right, hold on a second.” She swung the door open. She had forgotten to put the pies in the oven before. She walked up to the tray that was set out, and stuck it in the oven. Unfortunately, one of the pies was missing. The small family sat down, the woman’s eyes darting around.

“It will be a moment…”

“Miss, are you okay? You’re shaking.”

“Oh, sure. I’m fine. Just… Uh… A little chilly I suppose.” Ms. Lovett wandered over to the windows.

“Dreadful curtains…” She said.

“What was that?” asked Antony.

“Blocking my view!” She said, improvising. She pulled the curtains aside, and screamed. There was a face right in the window.

“Toby? What’s he doing here?” said Antony.

“Toby! Oh he looks dreadful!” Exclaimed Ms. Lovett.

“I’m going to kill him…” Sweeney pulled out the razor. Rosalie coughed loudly as they said this.

“Excuse me I’ve got a bit of cough… Nothing much. Sorry ‘bout that.” Toby suddenly burst into the store.

“His razor! Thas his razor! It’s floating!” Screamed Toby. “I knew it!” Rosalie lunged for Sweeney’s hand, knocking the razor out of it.

“Scuse me, just practicing a magic trick, thas all.” She said, as she picked up the silver blade from the ground, and stuffed it into her apron pocket. “Can I get you something to drink?” She said, as she fixed a piece of hair into place.

“No thank you.” said Johanna.

“Alright then. Toby, would you like a seat?” Rosalie said cautiously.

“No, ma’am. I haven’t any money.”

“Oh, you poor dear. You can have it for free.” Ms. Lovett went to hug Toby.

“Thanks miss!” He said. He walked right through Ms. Lovett. She was shocked for a moment, and then collapsed to her knees on the floor. He sat down at the table next to the Hope family.

“Oh, food’s ready!” Rosalie said nervously.

“Missus… Is that… Blood on your apron?” Everyone’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, yes, I just cut my finger earlier. That’s all.” She held up her bandaged hand and unwrapped it. “See?”

“Ma’am, I don’t see anything…” Rosalie opened up the oven door, and began to pull out the tray when she saw Mr. Todd’s arm reach around to the front of her apron.

“What are you doing you pervert?!” She whispered harshly as she pulled it out. She tried to keep a strait face.

“Taking my revenge…” He said even softer. She nervously put the pies on the plates, watching him go up behind Toby silently. Only the Razor was visible, but they weren’t paying attention. As he began to flip it open, she screamed.

“No! Stop! Stop, stop, stop!” She stomped her feet onto the floor, the knives fell off of the counter, spreading around everywhere. She snatched one up that was still spinning and pointed it at Mr. Todd. It looked like she was pointing it at Toby.

“Missus?” asked a confused Toby.

“Ma’am this is too much!” Antony and his family all got up and began to leave. Toby had gotten up, bumping his head on Mr. Todd’s arm.

“Wot?” He looked up to see the razor. “I knews it! I knews it!” He sprinted out of the shop. When the door slammed shut, the bell tingling was the last sound heard before the long silence. Rosalie dropped the knife, landing between her two feet straight up and down.

“Ms. Lovett?” Rosalie turned towards the woman/ghost almost everyone had just walked through. “I’m sorry… About… Toby was it? I don’t think anyone can see you… ‘Cept me.” Rosalie flopped down in one of the chairs.

“Who knew dead people were so exhausting?” She sighed as she leaned against the table.

“Johanna… She’ll never come back… And my revenge… Ruined!” Rosalie looked at Mr. Todd, then closed her eyes.

“Your revenge… Is going to be the death of me! Those were my first customers, Mr. Todd. And after doing my best to spruce the place up, it’s all a waste because the news of me being a loon is going to spread like the plague.”

“The death of you. How ironic.” She felt the cold blade of the razor against her neck.