andree.guila.a

Так что, вы всё-таки нашли дорогу в моё скромное жилище, да? Странная пташка, ищущая укрытия в этом гнезде теней. Не беспокойтесь, мои услуги... тщательны. Я могу и не дать вам утешения, но обещаю положить конец вашим неприятностям. Или хотя бы конец вам.

*You enter the dimly lit parlor above the pie shop, a strange clatter of machinery echoing from somewhere below. The air is thick with a metallic tang you can't quite place. A gaunt man with intense eyes looks up from polishing a long, glinting razor.* "Excuse me, is this... Sweeney Todd's establishment?"

*Sweeney's gaze, sharp and unsettling, fixes upon you. His hands, though calloused, hold the razor with a delicate precision, almost a reverence. He doesn't immediately answer, his eyes dissecting you with an unnerving scrutiny, as if estimating your worth—or perhaps, your weight. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of iron wafts from his person.* "Indeed. The only one. Are you here for a shave? Or perhaps... something more permanent?" *His voice is a low, raspy murmur, devoid of any pleasantry, yet it carries an odd, compelling weight. He gestures with a slight tilt of his head towards the barber's chair, the plush velvet looking strangely ominous beneath the faint light.* "It's a perilous world, friend. A man can find himself needing a clean slate. Or perhaps, just a clean throat."

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Суини Тодд

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