Beneath a Blood Red Moon

Warning: mentions of rape.

She stared at his collapsed form on the ground, his left hand dangled into the river. The current brushing through his fingers. "Oh, love" she muttered. She nervously looked around. They were alone, and far enough from the town that there shouldn't be any onlookers. They were safe. Safe for now. She left him be to rest, tipping him over on his back so he'd be more comfortable. She picked up his wrist examining the burns on his hand. They weren't third degree; she was sure of that. They did however, look nasty and painful enough to be. Hopefully while in town they could find some medicine.

She rummaged through their belongings, finding the first aid kit. It would have to do for now. She found a long bandage and gently wrapped the cloth around his hands. She decided to keep his fingers together rather than weaving in between them. After tying them at his wrists, she exhaled deeply.

Her mind had no time to process what happened with the three brothers. It was all so fast. It was as if her body, limbs, moved on their own. All she knew was that she needed to protect Mr. Todd. Nothing else seemed to matter.

She glanced at the bodies. Flies swarming around them. She wanted to vomit. She hesitated a bit before, walking over to them, looting their pockets. Between the three of them, they barely had enough money, a couple of shillings and some pennies. It all adds up. Not that the two were hurting for money. But she was saving, for the cottage by the sea.

She took a deep breath and laid down on the ground beside Mr. Todd. She didn't enjoy killing, in fact, she despised it. Cleaning up the mess was far easier. As of late, her hands will be stained red for eternity.

She looked at Sweeney's sleeping form. All of this… for him. Is it all worth it? She watched the clouds move with the wind. Wishing they could return to normalcy soon. With a roof over their heads, food prepared by her for him on the table. Her stomach growled on the thought of food. They been eating that bleedin' rabbit stew for two days. Nellie's thoughts switched. Its been a couple days. Only a couple days since they left London. It felt like it should be a couple months. Her head started aching, she directed her thoughts to something more pleasant.

She planned on falling asleep, but couldn't manage to. The sky turned from a grayish blue to a dark orange, stars began to show. Just as she her eyelids began to drop, she heard movement next to her. She quickly sat upright, "Mr. T?"

His eyes were still shut, his eyebrows knit in discomfort. His hands ached in a way they never have before. Upon hearing her voice, he opened his eyes, she was leaned over him, staring at his face. Her eyes shown concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He groaned, straightening himself up into a seated position. Without the use of his hands. They still felt as if they were on fire, and the stinging was unbearable. "No! I'm not bloody alright." He growled.

She knit her eyebrows and looked away. "Well there's no need in being rude. I'm only trying to help is all." He stared at the bandages, wincing as he moved his hands to his chest. Inhaling through his nose sharply, eyes squeezed shut. She wanted to weep for him, the poor dear.

She reached out and touched his shoulder, he jumped from her contact. "How bad does it hurt?"

"Bad" he said. She took a hold of his wrist, leading them to the water once more.

"This will make them feel better in jiffy dear." He relaxed a bit once they touched the water. She smiled, "I was thinking, Mr. T. We could run into that town, maybe find some burn medicine."

"Find a doctor to chop them off."

She looked at him confused. "We don't need to do that."

"Why? I'll never be able to use them again."

She snorted a bit, "You'll be fine love. They're not that damaged. Here," she began to remove the bandages, much to his agitation. "See. They aren't third degree burns, mainly first, a tad bit of second in the more tender parts, I'd say. You'll be fine."

He looked unsure and placed them back in the water. "I've never had burns before."

"Really? Well they aren't too pleasant, I can assure of that dear. You'll be in pain for some time. Since the moon is out, we'll keep them open. Let the wound breathe. Just be sure the sun doesn't hit them."

"You've had burns before?"

"Of course love, I'm a baker."

His mouth twitch into the start of a smile. He cleared his throat, returning the frown to his face, and stood up. He looked down at her, still seated on the river bank. "I'd offer you my hand, but…"

She grinned, picking her self up. "To Ipswich then?" She grabbing the bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

"To Ipswich." He muttered. Feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth again.

They glanced at the dead bodies, contemplating whether they should bury them or not. Or at least hide them. They thought against it. Nellie also decided to leave the bow and arrows behind. A choice she hopes she won't regret later.

They forgot to maybe alter their appearances before walking into a town. They couldn't do anything for the smell, jumped in the river fully maybe. Sweeney Todd wore a coat to hide the small amount of blood on his sleeves. The cuffs touching his singed flesh making him wince with each step. Nellie Lovett's simple black dress looked ragged. And her hair, as messy and wild as always. Bits of grass and twigs in it. The pair certainly looked as if they've slept in the woods for about a week. Which they had. The town's people cast them nervous glances and avoiding getting to close. Wise people. Of the few that were out, those brave enough to wander in the dark.

They stuck to the shadows as much as possible. They got lucky and spotted an apothecary in the distance, their shop still open. Nellie raced towards them.

"We're about to close Ma'am." A small boy said, sweeping the front steps outside. Nellie froze when she saw him. Staring at his small, cute face, a patch of dirt on his right cheek. Sweeney stepped over the threshold, snapping Nellie out of her trance.

"I need burn medicine." He told the man behind the counter.

A couple minutes later they walked out of the shop, looking for a nice secluded alley way to hide in. "That lad reminded me of Toby." Nellie said. Sweeney turned to look at her, "Stay close to me." He said.

They found a good enough alley with no one nearby. Nellie took the burn medicine, applying it to his skin. He winced as her fingers glided along his flesh. She kept apologizing as he seethed in discomfort. The medicine started working immediately, easing the pain from his hands. "Thank you." He told her, as she twisted the lid on the jar, placing it in the bag. It was dark but he could still make out the small blush on her cheeks.

They continued walking through the streets until they spotted a small pub. Stopping in there for food, they sat at the table in the corner, facing away from the people. Men were laughing and chugging ale to their hearts content. A small girl came over to take their order. "Two pies and some water." Sweeney told her. The girl nodded, turning to leave. "No meat in mine." Nellie called. "Thanks." The girl nodded again, walking off.

She flashed Sweeney an awkward smile as he stared at her from across the table. "Turning vegetarian?"

She took a deep breath, looking around the pub. "Might as well." She said.

The girl returned with their food and water. They both chugged the water, grateful for its presence. As Sweeney tore into his chicken pie, Nellie watched him in awe. She realized in that moment, that she's never seen him eat before. He questioned her stare and she quickly brushed him off, taking small bits of her own veggie pie. At first glance, she thought the pie would make her retch, but her hunger won and she tucked in enjoying the flavor and thankful she decided to choose only vegetables.

Once they finished, they left payment on the table and vanished quickly and quietly. However, on the way out, Nellie spotted a map of England on the wall. Sweeney was about to question her, when she suddenly jolted, finding a pen from the counter and scribbled the map down onto a napkin. Sweeney was impressed by her practicality. Once she finished and returned the pen, they left.

"Should we find an Inn?" Nellie asked. Sweeney hooked his arm around hers, dragging her under the stairs of a tailor shop. They were completely hidden.

"We'll sleep here." He mumbled. Without using his hands, he held her around the waist, drawing her close enough for their noses to touch and slid into a seating position. They remained there in the pitch dark, his chin resting over the top of her curls and they some how managed to fall asleep.

From the map that Nellie roughly scribbled, they set their next plan of action.
"There's a port at the end of town." Sweeney said in the morning as they untangled themselves under the stairs. "We'll get passage onto the boat and end up in France, or America, honestly I don't care." He said. Nellie nodded in understanding as she lathered more burn medicine onto his hands and bandaged them up good this time. And with that all finished they set off through town.

Eyes set on the coast they practically ran there at top speed. Eager to get out of this country. Nellie couldn't help but daydream as they kept a steady pace. Ending up in France wouldn't be so bad, they could still find a small cottage. And it didn't have to be by the sea. She'd settle for a secluded cottage on a farm land, just something peaceful, cozy. She watched the back of Sweeney's head as they walked. She was amazed at the moments they've had over the past couple days. Their relationship has undoubtedly changed, for the better as well. She smiled, feeling herself blush, thinking of last night as he held her close to him by his wrists. And yesterday, when he called her beautiful, of course, there was an insult in there somewhere, but nonetheless, he called her beautiful. And that's all she could ever hope for.

They could see the coast on the horizon. A man selling tickets. It was all too easy, too perfect. She was grinning ear to ear, even Sweeney looked pleased, a small smile appearing.

A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Yanking her around to face him."Apologies." The man said, as he smacked her over the head with a baton.

"Nellie!" he yelled, before another man appeared behind him, knocking him out as well.

The tall bounty hunter, who called himself James, and the small nervous constable, Nathaniel, dragged them by their arms, tossing them onto the train. They were blindfolded up until that point. James tightened their bound hands, tying the rope to stacks sticking from the floor. Sweeney winced when the rope touched the injured part of his hands. "Oh sorry, are you hurt?" James said peering down at him. He had an American accent. He stood up, and kicked Sweeney's hands making him yell.

"You two, we're fun to hunt." He gloated. "If you didn't want to get caught, you should've stayed out of a town. Or at least disguise a little bit." He laughed, "You're easy to spot in a crowd." He dug a parchment out of his pocket, waving it around. Nellie narrowed her eyes. Was that a wanted poster? And why only one?

"James the train is ready." The constable said.

James hopped out of the train car, "See you in London." He slammed the door shut leaving them with the darkness. After a few minutes the train made a sickening lurch forward, and all hope felt lost.

Sweeney stared at the dark wall, thinking a way out of this. He dreaded having to see London again, they barely succeeded getting out of the wretched city only to be transported their again. A huge setback, but maybe not all was lost. Once off the train they could fight their way out. But their would be guards, all carrying batons and guns like their two bounty hunter friends. No matter, they'll figure something out, just need to think, think.

His train of thought, pun unintended, was interrupted by sobbing in the corner. His heart melted a bit. "Mrs. Lovett?" he spoke to her softly and her cries subsided a bit. Even in the dark, he could make out her scared, tearful expression. If his hands were not bound behind his back, he'd reach out to place his on top of hers. She looked up, breathing in deeply, her eyes were glowing in the dark from her tears. It looked strangely beautiful. He didn't need to ask why she was crying, it was obvious, he felt as if he needed to say something to her, to comfort. However, he sighed, resting his head against the wall. Thinking of a way he could help her, he hesitated before slowly stretching his leg, touching the sole of his shoe to the tip of her boot. She smiled faintly.

"Don't cry pet," he whispered. "Are you sad that your dream will never come true now?"

She shifted a bit to face him, "No," she lifted up her right leg, wiping the tears on her knee. "I'm terrified." She sighed, "We'll be hanged, won't we?"

"There'll be a trail. We'll face whatever new judge there is." He said. And she started crying again.

"They'll see us, all of London, all those mangy, bloody commoners and the customers I served every day, that dreadful Mrs. Mooney."

"Don't give up, pet. We could always fight."

"What's the point?" she asked, facing him once more. His brows furrowed. "I'm serious. Does fleeing matter? How far did we really think we could get?"

"I thought we were going to the sea side?"

She snorted. "You didn't mean that. It's just a stupid dream."

"But it's your stupid dream."

She smiled enough to show teeth. A grave thought entered her mind, her expression turned sad once more. "I don't know if I want to fight Mr. T. You said it yourself, we all deserve to die."

"That's plausible," seeing her so hurt and scared, he had that twinge in his gut again. He knew what that twinge meant, but he dreaded it. He'll admit, he was warming up to his landlady, partner in crime. He wasn't ready to move on yet. He still couldn't betray Lucy like that. Nevertheless, he wanted to cheer her up somehow. He straightened himself up, already getting a kink in his shoulder. "Tell me why. Why you think you deserve to die?"

She snorted again, "I'm a terrible person."

"Elaborate?"

"I cooked almost half of London into pies and served them to the other half for starters."

"But I killed them." Just then an idea hit him. "Listen, Mrs. Lovett, when we're trialled," She gave him that tearful expression, "I'm going to convince them that I forced you to cover up my crimes in such a way and I want you to—"

"No! no no no no—"

"I want you to follow through—"

"No. No! —"

"—So you will be spared."

"I am not going to let you be hanged! —"

"Mrs. Lovett."

"No!" she folded her legs behind her to be able to lean closer to him, surprisingly, he did the same. They were close enough to kiss. "There is no point in me living without you." She said. Her statement took him aback. It was slap across the face, that made his jaw drop in awe. As much as he hated to admit it, he wanted to kiss her. At least in this moment.

"I'll just kill myself if you were to be hanged and not me." She said leaning back. "In fact, I'll just kill myself before I'll be hanged—"

"Mrs. Lovett—"

"—in the prison, I'll—"

"Eleanor! Don't you dare." His jaw was stern.

"You're right my dear. Hanging would be more suffering."

His brows furrowed at her, "What are you not telling me? You make it sound like you were the one who murdered almost half of London."

She looked down at the dirty floor of the train. "Toby's and those brothers were not the only ones that I murdered." Sweeney inched forward intrigued, he winced feeling his burned hands scrape against the rope. "I killed Albert" she said with her eyes shut.

The train rocked back and forth.

His mouth was agape. "How?"

Tears started to stream down her face, she looked away backing away from him. "I can't… I…"

He winced again as he tried to inch closer to her. "I'm afraid you'll hurt me if I tell you the truth." She said.

"My hands are bound." He assured her.

"You could strangle me with your feet." She let out a tearful chuckle.

"Nellie." She looked up to his eyes. "You promised you wouldn't lie to me again."

She swallowed. "Alright," she sucked in much needed air before saying, "I put arsenic into his tea." She waited a while for him to respond. Her lips pursed together.

"Why do you think that would upset me? I don't care about..."

One shaky sigh later, "That's how Lucy found it."

He leaned back. The rope fell to the floor. He faced the wall, not wanting to look at her.

"I hid it. I don't know how she found it. But she knew. She knew that I killed him. I think… I think that's why she refused my help. Maybe was scared to be around me. Calling me "the devil's wife", thinking that I was a monster."

His heart ached, and for some reason that confused him and made him feel sick, it wasn't fully towards Lucy. He managed to look at her again.

"Maybe I am a monster." She said, "That's why I deserve to die." The train lurched roughly as if it broke down. They heard cursing and shouting outside. The doors swung open, with no change of lighting considering the stars were now out.

James stood their looking a bit drunk. "We'll have to stop here for the night. Come on, let's have a bit of fun." Sweeney felt that sickening feeling again. This night was far from over.

The Bounty Hunter and his constable companion, dragged the two off the train by their rope bound hands and thrown them underneath a tree with a sickening thud.

The train had broken down, Nathaniel was speaking with the mechanics up ahead. The sky was pitch black; you couldn't see the moon tonight. The man left to gather wood for a fire. While his back was turned, Nellie shuffled closer to Sweeney, her hands slowly managing to pull the razor from its holster. Stupid bastards forgot to take his razors from him. Sweeney didn't protest beyond searching her eyes trying to see into her brain as to what plan she was cooking up. Nathaniel came back, removing his hat and running a hand threw his thin hair.

Nellie sat on the razor, hiding it in the folds of her dress.

"It'll be a couple of hours." He told James. He glanced towards the unlucky couple. Trying to look as innocent as possible, or at least Nellie was, pouting and all. Sweeney was glaring daggers.

James pulled out a match, lighting the fire. "Guess we'll stay here." He smirked at Nellie.

For the next hour, they had to listen to James whoever go on and on about his adventures as a bounty hunter. From the amount of rolling eyes Nathaniel was giving him, this was a song James loved to sing.

"He's ugly." James laughed. Sweeney only glared at him more. "Do you think I'm afraid of you?" he continued laughing. Nellie and Sweeney glanced at each other. She still had the razor under her dress. If she could just hand it to Sweeney than he could saw through the rope and take care of the two men. She shifted slightly, her fingers grasping around the razor's hilt.

James footsteps were approaching her, freezing her actions. "You're a pretty lass. It'll be a shame to see you hung."

She glared up at the man.

"I don't know where you came from." Her and Sweeney both looked at the man confused.

Nathaniel sums up their confusion for them. "The wanted posters only mentioned the man. Likely, we'll be able to let the woman go."

"They found remains of another woman, that night." James continued. They were both sweating. Lucy. "The cops, think that it's the baker." He walked back to the fire, taking a swig out of his canteen. "But we don't know. Maybe that bitch is dead, maybe…" he looked back at Nellie. "She's right here." He played with the ring on his finger. "Nathan go check on the train. Take the man with you."

Nathaniel sighed, closing his eyes. He looked ashamed. Nonetheless, he stood up walking towards Sweeney. It was now or never. Nellie dropped the razor by his hands where he grasped, sticking his old friend into his back pocket.

The bounty hunter grabbed Nellie, hoisting her unto her feet by her armpits. "She's not yours is she?" he asked Sweeney who didn't know how to answer. His? Terror shown in his eyes, almost as much as it shown in Nellie's. Before he could answer, the constable pulled him up onto his feet dragging him away.

The man held her incessantly close to him. Her face was turned and her posture leaning away. He removed the rope from her wrists, tossing it onto the grass.

Nellie was a fighter; this wouldn't go easy for the bounty hunter. To Nellie's horror, the more she kicked, thrashed, and screamed, the more determined he was becoming. He slammed her onto the ground, knocking the wind out of her. There was a ringing in her ears and stars danced in her eyes.

While being dragged away, Sweeney fingers fumbled with the razor, getting the blade to open with bandaged fingers was a difficult feat. Every second, he cursed himself for taking too long, being too slow. He could hear Nellie's screams behind him. James was fast, deadly, he's done this to his prey before. Sweeney turned around to look.

He had Nellie pinned to the ground, her arms held above her head. She was kicking and screaming more than she ever has in her life. Somehow Nellie's screams and cries filled Sweeney with a rush that he hasn't felt since… since killing the judge. He coughed to cover up the click of the razor opening. The train was in working order again, as the mechanic hollered and waved at them, miles away. And Sweeney just began cutting through the rope's fibers. He looked over his shoulder, Nellie's tearful eyes were pleading with him, begging him to not go, to help, do something. He was half away through sawing at the rope. Almost there.

And…to his utter despair, he dropped the razor.

Nellie's screams were getting quieter like they were fading away. Sweeney looked over his shoulder again, she wasn't in sight.

He looked up at the sky, tears threatening to fall. He hasn't cried in fifteen years. He felt a hot, burning shame wash over him mixed with a deep sickening feeling. Nellie's screams reverberated off the bark of the trees. Is this how Lucy screamed that night? Did she make such sounds of absolute agony? And all the onlookers just laughed. He was seething. Nathaniel kept a tight grip on his arm. "You're a man of the law and you're allowing an innocent woman to be raped?"

The man turned towards Sweeney, "Ah, but she's not innocent, is she?"

Sweeney gritted his teeth. "Burn in hell," he mumbled.

"What did you say?" The constable looked down at Sweeney's restraints as he felt his arms flex.

It was too late.

"I said, burn in hell!" Sweeney busted the rope free. His hands latched onto the man's throat as they both fell to the ground. Suffocating was to slow, with one final scream that Sweeney realized was his own, the man's neck snapped like a twig.

Sweeney ran back to the light of the burning fire. He grabbed his razor on the way. The bounty hunter was still on top of Nellie. He grabbed a hold of his forehead, and blood spurted from the man's neck in a glorious fountain. Nellie reacted momentarily from the sudden shower, but otherwise remained dazed. Sweeney pushed the man off of her. He pulled her bloomers back up; her black dress was ripped to shreds.

"I'm sorry I wasn't quick enough." He told her as she curled into a ball and sobbed into the dirt. He pulled her to his chest, her right hand latched onto his vest. As she drenched his vest and shirt with her tears for what felt like hours.

After awhile, she exhausted herself. He continued holding her as she slept. He would've given in to sleep as well, if it wasn't for the screech of a raven. He looked up from Nellie's hair and noticed for the first time, the pool of blood around them. Considering it was from the bounty hunter he decided ignoring it, until he re-positioned their embraced and saw that the part of his chest where Nellie was leaning, was covered in blood.

Eyes wide in terror, he pulled her away to examine her. Something shiny caught his attention next to them, a small, bloody, silver dagger. She was stabbed in her left shoulder, and on that same side was a long, nasty gash, just under her armpit.

Sorry for the intense chapter. But I hope you enjoyed nonetheless.