The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

-The Reckoning of Sweeney Todd-

-I-

Johanna gazed out her window with a forlorn expression. She followed the movements of each person as they strode down the street. Some were walking under the weight of packages they carried, and others stepped with the pretentious walk of persons of authority. All different classes merged together as they moved about the lane. Johanna sighed. She had been watching the people, impervious to the freedom they possessed, and recognized many from previous days. She knew them, and yet none of them knew her. She could pretend she was among them, and that she had acquaintances that she could nod to with a greeting of acknowledgement, but it came to nothing. For the last couple years she had not even be permitted to step outside her home, and she had realized when she was a small girl that the manor enclosed around her was more like a prison than a home. A prison she desperately needed to escape.

Suddenly, Johanna heard a tapping at the door. She lifted her book from the dresser so as to give the illusion she was studying. Her governess, Clara Cartwright, had offered her many lectures about the danger of betraying her desire to escape. Her guardian, Judge Turpin, did not approve of her gazing out the window for so many hours at a time. However, Johanna had secretly admonished that if he allowed her outside, she wouldn't have a reason to wish for what she could never have.

"Come in." Johanna said when her façade was in place.

Her skin immediately took on a bracing chill as Judge Turpin opened the door. Slowly, with the steadiness of a man of many years, Judge Turpin came into the room and closed the door behind him.

"And how is my flower, this fine morning? It appears you are up early."

"Yes…I…I wanted to get some reading done before Miss Clara returned." Johanna said softly.

Judge Turpin smiled with a warmness that was not quite of the grandfather-to-granddaughter sort. Johanna felt herself growing more and more confused with Judge Turpin's constant changing of stations within their relationship. At sixteen years, Johanna was not too young to take on a husband, but she found a nameless nausea inside her grow stronger and stronger every day that went by. Judge Turpin strolled to her side, and laid a hand on her shoulder. Johanna felt a chill creep up her spine.

"You seem to be growing melancholy, dear Johanna." Judge Turpin said with care. "Therefore, I've brought you a gift to lift your spirits."

Johanna noticed the Judge motion to a man standing in the shadow of the door. Johanna furrowed her brow. It was Beadle Bamford; a right ghastly excuse for a man. The Beadle nodded with a delighted smirk, and entered the chamber with a cage filled with tiny birds. Johanna's eyes widened slightly, and she watched transfixed as the Beadle hung the cage next to the window. With sparkling eyes Johanna leaned forward to catch a better glimpse.

"You like them, my pet?" Judge Turpin asked her.

Johanna was silent for a moment, but then turned toward her adopted guardian and nodded politely.

"Yes sir. They're very beautiful."

"Excellent." Judge Turpin replied, obviously pleased with himself.

After a brief conversation that lasted far too long for Johanna, the Judge and his minion departed, leaving the girl alone once more. Johanna gazed at the birds with a small smile. What an ironic gift to offer. She could see herself as a lark in a cage, mournfully glancing through the bars but never granted freedom. Imprisoned for the sole purpose of entertaining the vision of others. Johanna sighed, and continued to read.

_____________________

To many, London was a glorious place tipped to the brim with romance and adventure. The smokestacks towered above the quaint cobblestone streets, and the morning mist that billowed over the ocean only added to the splendor of the scene. A large ship glided through the water, its journey nearly ended. The breeze on the deck was cool and moist, and blew past the face of a starry-eyed young sailor called Anthony Hope. The boy smiled into the wind, not concealing his delight at approaching the marvelous city of London.

"I have been to so many places and I've seen so many glorious things, but nothing can match the majesty of London."

Boots clapped unmercifully at the planks as Sweeney Todd stepped beside his travelling companion. The fresh wind hardly disturbed his unruly black hair, as though the air itself was nervous to touch his demonic face. Todd gazed at the cityscape with an expression colder than ice.

"No, truly, there is no place like London."

Anthony turned his head in response to Todd's dark tone thick with sarcasm.

"Mr. Todd?" He asked politely, desiring clarification of Todd's apparent distain.

Todd had nothing to hide from the boy.

"The world has been kind to you, Anthony. But you are young yet; you will soon learn."

Striding with a ridged grace across the deck, Todd laid his hands against the damp rail. As he watched a bridge retract in preparation for the ship's crossing, Anthony stood beside him wearing a very puzzled expression.

"Learn what, Mr. Todd?"

Sweeney Todd remained silent for a moment, still transfixed on the brightening city before him. He vaguely recalled stepping aboard a ship fifteen years ago and watching the city fade away into the distance. How different he had become from that frightened man who was transported away from his family, enduring the punishment of a charge falsely accused. His gaze was steady as he spoke.

"This world is nothing but an eternal hole of soiled beauty and deceit. People are guided by false morals, morals that will do nothing to protect those who would honor them. These helpless citizens are wilting in the shadows of the powers above. That is London." Todd lifted his lip in a sneer before continuing. "The few men who posses the privileges of this falsified world stand above the hole in which we crawl, throwing us scraps from their table and laughing as we tear through each other like dogs. They pilfer our expectations because they have the power to do so. They can steal beauty and turn it to filth. They can take goodness and twist it into greed. This is London."

"Mr. Todd…?"

"I, too, have seen the world." Todd sustained, ignoring Anthony's meek interjection. "I have seen wonders as well, but of a different sort. I have witnessed firsthand the cruelties of men, and such a sight is as wondrous as any glorious prospect the world has to offer. And yet, I find myself agreeing." Todd gritted his teeth in an angry scowl. "There's no place like London."

The ship docked, and Todd stood as still as a statue as the disarray of hurried sailors secured the mooring lines. When the ship was secure, Todd reached for his bag and slung it over his shoulder. The clothing inside did not belong to him, but the captain had been gracious enough to offer it as a gift to their stranded guest. Todd had not revealed where he had come from when the ship Bountiful rescued him from the raging seas, and no one seemed to mind his reserved behavior. Sweeney Todd stepped down the ramp to the cobblestones, following other crewmembers taking shore leave. He strode under the archway, and felt himself stop suddenly. The streets. Something about the empty lanes appeared so very…haunted. He scanned the rows of buildings, paying no heed to the beauty the new morning light cast on the dark cobblestones. He could hear a pair of footsteps stop behind him. It was Anthony. Todd attempted to understand what he had done to invite such conversation within the boy. From what he remembered he had scarce spoke three words across the entirety of the venture.

"Is everything alright Mr. Todd?" Anthony had a genuine tone of concern gilded in his question.

Todd decided there was no harm in confiding in the boy of what disturbed him so greatly. As long as he kept the characters in the telling anonymous, that is. Sweeney Todd felt his gaze pass once again over the eerily empty streets.

"I beg your indulgence, Anthony." Sweeney Todd spoke softly. "My mind is far from easy, and in these once familiar streets I feel…shadows. Everywhere."

Anthony was blatantly confused. "Shadows?"

Todd's eyes flecked down to the ground.

"Ghosts." He clarified with grim indifference.

Sweeney Todd took a step forward, and then stopped, forcing himself to clear away the darkness that hazed his memories, summoning a vision belonging to Benjamin Barker. He saw Barker foolishly coddling over his baby girl, and smiling passionately at his beautiful wife.

"Once, amid my acquaintances, I knew a barber. He was wed to a beautiful woman. They lived contently until one day a man glorified in the practices of the law desired that beauty for himself. He removed the barber, and in doing so he cleared the path for himself to take the delicate, unprotected flower as his own."

Despite the fact Todd could hardly feel the pain anymore, a strange presence inside him urged him to pause. Todd looked within in attempt to discover where the odd voice originated, but could find nothing but a familiar and relieving void of malice. He almost had forgotten Anthony was still present beside him.

"And the lady, sir? Did she succumb?"

The question was harmless enough. Sweeney Todd did not address the question directly.

"That was many years ago." The matter was closed.

Sweeney Todd then realized he owed some kind of recognition for Anthony's assistance. He growled a low exhale, and then turned to face the young man. He hesitated, but ultimately relented.

"I'd like to thank you Anthony. If you hadn't spotted me, I'd be lost on the ocean still."

Anthony smiled as he received the gratitude with a quick nod. His countenance then adopted a questioning look.

"Will I see you again, Mr. Todd?"

Sweeney Todd was growing more and more distant by the moment. His gaze had shifted from connecting with his companion to memorizing the crevices nicked out of the stones below him. His words came unbidden.

"You might find me, if you like, around Fleet Street, I wouldn't wonder."

Anthony offered his hand in farewell. "Until then, my friend."

Sweeney Todd ignored the gesture, his mind already wandering. He began to walk, slowly at first but with a gradually quickening pace. He marched toward an archway that marked his path to Fleet Street. His pack thumped behind him as he walked powerfully over the road. The rats scurried about his feet as he strode, eager to clear his path. His brows were knit together in a permanent scowl of resentment, and soon he felt a phrase come to his lips, one that struck him with a chilling revelation.

"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…"