Of blood and moonlight

Sweeney Todd sat in his mechanically modified barber's chair staring at his reflection in his blood stained razor through the blurred moonlight of the dark, smog filled Tuesday night. The cold blue light of the moonlight contrasted with the ruby red blood that distorted his image; Sweeney had managed to drown out the noise of Mrs Lovett's pie shop below as his mind searched for ways to coax Judge Turpin back into his chair and under his blade. It had been little under a week since Anthony Hope, the young sailor who had found Sweeney adrift on the ocean had cost Sweeney his revenge on the Judge; and it had only been a couple of days since Mrs Lovett's grand re-opening of her pie shop, business was booming, Sweeney had cut enough throats for a month's supply of pie fillings and was rich for it. Toby, Mrs Lovett's hired young help had been so busy that he hadn't had time to entertain any of his suspicions towards Sweeney. For now Sweeney and Mrs Lovett's secret was safe.

Sweeney hadn't heard Bernice Bracknell ascend the wooden steps outside of Mrs Lovett's pie shop that took her up to Sweeney's less than accommodating abode until she had thrown the door open and entered with the cold air and growling storm that was raging overhead; he wondered if her steps had been masked by the constant roar of business below or his own absent minded ignorance but there she stood. Soaking wet, her dark hair windswept and unruly from the rain, her red pannier dress and lace corset were made darker by the amount of water they retained and dripped in Sweeney's doorway. Sweeney looked to the window behind him noticing the rain storm for the first time and then turned back to Bernice Bracknell; Bernice's breaths were rushed yet deep, she hadn't been running but she had definitely walked with haste to be standing there now in front of the demon barber of fleet Street.

"Do I know you?" Sweeney was confused, no woman who wasn't with their husband had the need to be standing in his doorway unless it was Mrs Lovett and she wasn't welcome most of the time.

Sweeney had done his best to keep his voice from sounding overly questioning and had tried to keep it as calm and collected as he could; though he couldn't be sure if he had succeeded. A handful of deep breaths dragged the air into Bernice's chest before she spoke. Her voice wavered as if she had been choking on tears. Perhaps she hadn't been rushing to her now reached destination but had been crying hysterically along the way. Sweeney thought he had seen tears from the moment he had seen her but had concluded the water on her face to be raindrops. Sweeney frowned as Bernice replied to his question in a wavering, choked up whisper.

"You don't know me but you will come to know me."

"What's your name?" asked Sweeney as he frowned again. While Sweeney waited for a reply from Bernice he heard the laughs of a crowd leaving from below, all men who sounded like they had had a little too much gin.

"My name is Bernice Bracknell, widow to Timothy Bracknell."

Sweeney didn't recognise the name but it didn't take him long to figure out that Bernice was accusing him of her late husband's death. Were there rumours on the streets? What did she know? Sweeney remembered he was still holding the open razor in his hand, Bernice had startled him and instinctively he had kept it in his hand. Bernice hadn't noticed the razor, or so Sweeney hoped. He slowly moved his hand behind his back hoping that the moonlight wouldn't catch the blade and alert Bernice to its presence.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken madam, I do not know nor have I ever known any man by that name." Sweeney's voice was as calm and collected as it could be for a man trying to conceal a decorative open razor in his hand and a long string of murders.

Sweeney thought something like this may happen; his only conclusion on the subject when it had last crossed his mind was to silence anyone who, like Bernice, brought their accusations to his door. Sweeney took a few steps forward towards Bernice as he attempted to quell her upset and rage with an assuring tone as he spoke again.

"However madam, my neighbour Mrs Lovett may have come across such a name in the last few days." Sweeney reached Bernice and placed a hand on her shoulder tentatively.

Bernice looked down at Sweeney's hand as her breath caught in her chest. She looked back to Sweeney defensively as he continued to speak.

"As you can see Mrs Bracknell, my neighbour is currently enjoying a peak trade with her small establishment below."

Sweeney smiled at Bernice as his eyes gazed over her shoulder, Sweeney watched the well fed and merry men turn a corner in the distance. Sweeney gripped his razor tightly and quickly gripped Bernice's throat with the hand that he had laid on her shoulder before she could react. Sweeney made sure to keep his grip tight around Bernice's throat to stop her from calling out as he slammed the door behind him and dragged her to his mechanical chair. Sweeney threw Bernice down hard, covered her body with his and brought the razor up under her chin.

Bernice knew to keep quiet knowing Sweeny would slash her throat without a second thought if she tried to escape him now.

"What do you know?" Sweeney's voice was cold and commanding; he pushed the edge of the razor closer to her chin forcing Bernice to raise her head.

Bernice looked down at Sweeney from the corners of her eyes. Sweeney could see her heart beating through her pale flawless chest; he watched the stray drops of rain roll down from her wet hair, over her skin and onto and in between her breasts. Sweeney glanced back to her eyes; they were the lightest blue which was a rarity for someone with such dark hair. Bernice's ice blue eyes contrasted the dark rain soaked red of her dress like moonlight against blood. Sweeney lost himself, he had heard Bernice speak and had seen her mouth move but he hadn't heard any of the words. Sweeney's eyes darted to Bernice's lips in an attempt to read the fleeting words. Her lips were lined with a blue caused by the cold, and again Sweeney found himself distracted by what was becoming known to him as the compelling beauty of Bernice Bracknell.

"What did you say?" his words were softer than he thought possible of his own voice.

Sweeney forced himself to listen to Bernice's words, he slowly took the razor from under her chin and placed it against her neck so that he could fully understand her words this time but instead of her words Sweeney heard footsteps ascending the stairs outside. Bernice met Sweeney's gaze as they both heard the footsteps, Bernice knew it'd take too long for Sweeney to slash her throat and get rid of her body before the person finished climbing the stairs and Sweeney knew it too, even with the trap door behind the chair he didn't have enough time. Bernice took a breath and opened her mouth to scream, Sweeney quickly pressed his hand over her mouth; Bernice tried to pull Sweeney's hand away but instead she felt the razor press against her skin, it was threateningly close and painful as he pressed down harder with it. Bernice couldn't tell if the wet sensation she felt was the rain running down her neck from her hair or blood from the razor.

Bernice watched Sweeney as he looked towards the door waiting for it to open; Sweeney cursed himself for not locking the door behind him and cursed himself again for not killing Bernice immediately. The door opened; Bernice saw Sweeney's eyes sharpen as the door opened fully.

Sweeney sighed a breath of relief as Mrs Lovett walked through the door.

"Who's she?" Mrs Lovett's words were almost a shriek.

"She's nobody. She'll be dead soon."

Bernice moaned under Sweeney's hand upon hearing his words. Her breath again became rushed and again Sweeney was distracted by her heart beating against her chest.

Mrs Lovett stood and waited for Sweeney to slash Bernice's throat. She studied his eyes from the doorway, Sweeney's eyes were unblinking his gaze was soft as he stared down at Bernice's chest. Mrs Lovett felt a hatred rise up inside of her. She had never seen Sweeney look that way at her before, how dare he look at this woman like that.

"For heaven's sake Mr Todd what are you waiting for?"

Sweeney glanced over to Mrs Lovett and back to Bernice. Bernice moaned again as she saw Sweeney's expression twist into discomfort. Bernice felt Sweeney's arm begin to shake as his expression intensified, his rage filled the arm which held the razor to Bernice's throat, his lips contorted into a demonic grimace and his eyes grew wider as he tried to will his arm to slide the razor over Bernice's skin.

A hiss became a growl and the growl became a deafening scream as Sweeny threw himself to his feet in a rage, he blindly stomped over to the corner of the room and attacked his shaving equipment and the kettle at the far end of the room screaming over the loud crashing of metal, Sweeney screamed again and brought the razor and his hands to his face. Bernice saw her chance and escaped the chair into the opposite corner of the room.

"OI!" cried Mrs Lovett at Bernice's bravery.

Sweeney took his hands from his face to see Bernice breathing heavily in the moon lit corner of the room. Sweeney pointed the razor towards Bernice and took rushed steps towards her.

"Out! OUT!"

Each of Sweeney's screams was accompanied by enraged footsteps on the wooden floor of his barber shop, each of his steps willed Bernice further away from him as he approached and soon Bernice found herself running towards the door.

Running with her eyes closed in an attempt to will her body to move faster Bernice ran into Mrs Lovett's arms. The two women grappled with each other, Bernice wanting to escape and Mrs Lovett wanting her to die. Sweeny approached the two women only to have Bernice fall back into his arms. Feeling her body crashing against Sweeney's Bernice screamed at the top of her voice only to have Sweeney's hand clap over her mouth again, stifling her screams into a groaning moan. Bernice saw Sweeney raise the razor and point it towards Mrs Lovett.

"Let her leave."

"I can't do that Mr T, you know if we let her go she'll be down the authorities and we'll have the law breathing down our necks."

"The insane ramblings of a distraught woman, no one will believe her, there is no justice in this town."

"Exactly my point Mr T, there is no justice in this town. Justice for you is seeing the judge bleed to death in that chair over there for all the wrong that he caused you. If word gets out, even a rumour could see you hanging by the noose in front of the Judge, the Judge already knows you consort with the sailor, he'll have it in for you if you don't play your cards right."

Sweeney's lip twitched in rage, he didn't have an argument, he couldn't trust Bernice to keep quiet if he let her go, and now she knew far too much thanks to Mrs Lovett's speech. Sweeney felt a blood red hate build up inside of him towards Mrs Lovett, he didn't want Bernice to die, he wanted it to be Mrs Lovett. Sweeny imagined Mrs Lovett on the chair looking up at him, bleeding from her throat, gasping for air as she slowly suffocated; he wanted to see her bathed in rubies.

Sweeny's rage gave way to fantasy, he could see Mrs Lovett in front of him, red pouring over her face and bare chest, matting in her hair and running down her body. Sweeney smiled and hoped the day would come where he was able to behold such a sight; Sweeney tried to snap himself back to reality but the vision of Mrs Lovett covered in rubies stayed with him and now she was screaming in shock and rage, the sounds of the world slowly found their way to Sweeney's ears, Mrs Lovett was cursing him; he had ruined her dress, she had customers downstairs… Sweeney watched Mrs Lovett attempt to brush the access blood from her skin and dress, Sweeney stood confused until he felt something limp fall against his leg; Bernice's arm.

Sweeny felt an ice cold pang of realisation course through his body, the sensation lasted for less than a second but it's resonance seemed to last an eternity. Sweeney slowly turned his attention away from the cursing Mrs Lovett to the limp woman in his arms. Bernice's body fell to the floor with a soft thump as Sweeney realised what he had done. Bernice lay looking up at Sweeny with her wide pain filled eyes and a dark rid slit in her throat. Sweeney watched the blood flow from the slit in Bernice's throat, down her perfectly pale skin and to the floor under her. Sweeney lost himself to the sight, the blood oozed over the floor and slowly crept towards him as if it were trying to reach him, Sweeney stepped back and glanced back to Mrs Lovett in deep confusion.

Mrs Lovett caught Sweeny staring at her with wide eyes as she wiped the blood on her face away with her long thick dress. Mrs Lovett stopped and looked over to Sweeney, the dress still in her hands.

"There, isn't that better, no mess that we can't clean up."

Sense slowly came back to Sweeney, he realised what he had done, he had slid the razor over Bernice's throat as he imagined Mrs Lovett covered in rubies, Sweeny hadn't felt his arm move to Bernice's throat, nor had he felt it when he had dragged the razor across her smooth skin. Sweeney was lost in thought without thinking anything at all. Sweeney heard Mrs Lovett say something but her words were muffled by his thoughtless silence, he saw Mrs Lovett leave from the corner of his eye and close the door behind her but her actions barely registered in Sweeney's mind. Sweeney took a handful of small steps back and fell into his chair, unable to take his eyes off of Bernice's corpse.

Bernice lay under a crack of moonlight, her blood still crawling across the floor towards Sweeney as he sat staring at her fallen form. Sweeney knew what needed to be done, he knew he had to dispose of her body, he knew he had to clean the floor and regain what precious little sanity he had but he would wait, he would wait until her soul escaped the room with the moonlight, then and only then would he dispose of the body of a woman he could have loved. Thoughts of rage towards Judge Turpin returned to Sweeney, again Sweeney had found himself wronged by the Judge; under the moonlight and to Bernice's blood Sweeney recalled his vows to kill Judge Turpin and right the wrong of his life.

Sweeney would have his revenge.