"You have to do what it takes, Nellie. No matter what."

Her mother says, pouring more pure alcohol onto the huge bloody wound on the small girl's calf. Nellie shrieks as the alcohol mixes with the blood dripping off of her leg and onto the dirty wooden floor, her tears falling with it. Her father, who Nellie thinks is the biggest man in the world, walks past the two and tells her to calm down and keep quiet before trudging over to her brothers who are still sword fighting with long pointed sticks.

Seeing her father whip the boys with their make believe swords gives Nellie an unnatural sense of calm. "You don't" the stick makes a sharp cracking noise against the boys pants "play rough" another crack "with your little sister". Thought 4 years apart in age, both boys get equal punishment for making Nellie play their game. She was a hostage and they were the robbers, and when she became bored of the game Nigel (the older of the two) commanded her to sit with a swipe of his sword, opening Nellies pale flesh and causing the dark blood to stream out.

"Now go get the mop and clean up this blood." Her mother's words are spoken harshly and impatiently but the hand she places on Nellies cheek to caress is a warm one.

13 years later Nellie still has that scar, though its usually covered by long flowing skirts. Her pie shop doesn't provide enough for her to buy new fabrics, and her husband's butchery barley pulls in more. But they do get a little bit of money from the side. "Money from sin is no money to spend" Nellies mom told her as a child. Nellie is old enough now, however, to realize that all money comes from one sin or another.

"Nell, my girl. Just in time. Mister Dean just came in to see us." The pie shop closed only half an hour ago, giving Nellie just enough time to clean up the place and herself before joining Mister Dean and her husband (even bigger then her father was) in the living room where a warm fire is blazing. Tonight will certainly be a night of sin, Nellie knows, acts so sinful she'll spend the next three days feeling dirty. But you have to do what it takes, no matter what.

"Very kind of him" Nellie says in the low pitch of voice her husband told her to speak in "Ill get us some drinks." Mr. Dean is the man that supplies the livestock meat to her husband, and he does this for free if they are nice enough to him. Being one of the only men with healthy livestock in London he is one of the richest men this part of the city has to offer, and a few weeks ago he decided to become half-owner of Nellie's pie shop, meaning he pays half the bills and supplies on groceries. All the Lovett's had to do was keep up their hospitality, which translates into doing whatever pleases the man. Because of this, the one on her leg isn't the only scar on Nellie's body. Unfortunately for her, Mister Dean has a strong fascination with blood, dehumanization, and degradation (Nellie assumes this is because he lives with livestock) And she already knows she is to be the animal of the night.

She brings a full bottle of gin over to Mister Dean, who is sitting on the couch while Albert is seated in the chair, taking up every inch of the cushion. After taking the bottle from her hands he snaps his fingers and points to the floor. Knowing what this means, knowing it would happen, Nellie gets on her hands and knee's in front of him, keeping her back flat so it makes a table for him to set the bottle down on.

"Albert, tell your wife she is a good girl" Mister Dean says, stroking Nellies hair as she cringes at the floor.

"Good girl, Nell."

"No names!" Mister Dean snaps, clinching his fist and pulling Nellie's hair in the process.

"Right. Sorry. Good Girl."

"Yes." His fist relents and lets her hair fall down over her shoulders again "She is going to be a very good girl. Aren't you?"

Knowing she isn't allowed to speak until directly told to, she only nods her head, taking these last few moments of near-calm to swallow her pride and forget herself.

"And you are going to do whatever I tell you to." This wasn't a question, so Nellie doesnt bother responding. "Albert did you bring your equipment?" Albert nods, trying his best not to look down at his wife as he hands Mister Dean the heavy canvas bag full of his butchery supplies.

Albert watches as Mister Dean pulls a skinning knife and a slicing knife from the bag, which Nellie knows to be his favorites. "Looks like I'll be buying your pretty little wife a new dress tomorrow" he says, slicing open the top of her dark purple dress then ripping the rest so it dangles around her sides, being held up by her arms and skirts but leaving her back exposed. Nellie didn't wear a corset, she knows better then to wear more then one layer for Mister Dean's visits.

"Where the hell are the candles? Cant have ambiance without candles!" His loud booming voice makes Nellie jump, causing Mister Dean to laugh and take his first swig of gin. Albert and Nellie make accidental eye contact when he returns with a deep red candle and matches, both looking away immediately being afraid of what they would see in each others eyes.

He sets the candle down on her back, making sure it is balanced before letting go, knowing Nellie would be punished if it falls over. When the candle is lit Mister Dean begins to draw slow firm circles on her lower back "that's better isn't it, girl?" Nellie doesn't move, only cringes again feeling no better then one of his blue ribbon cattle off to slaughter. "you are healing nicely" Too much pleasure is in his voice as he traces over the M (for his first name, Marcus) he branded her with on his last visit. Not every mark he leaves on Nellie scars, but this one certainly did.

The sweaty hand on her back snakes around to her stomach, a place Nellie didn't very much like being touched but she knows pulling away from him in any way would cause the candle to fall which would lead to a punishment Nellie doesn't want to imagine. Feeling her skin flinch he keeps his hand there, using his fingers to tickle her flesh as Nellie tries her best not to wiggle uncomfortably.

For the first time ever she wishes the candle would spill the hot melted wax onto the skin of her back, just to cover up the awful sensation of this mans nasty fingers delicately teasing the most sensitive part of her torso. Of course this doesn't happen, and she supposes the hot wax will spill at the worst time possible just as it did last time, and the time before, and every time before that.

With a deep-throated giggle the man finally lets his hand glide up her stomach to feel the cuts he left between each of Nellie's ribs. "Oh no" He says, fingering one delicately "These guys are fading fast. I'll just have to fix that."

Nellie cant help but take a few deep breaths and look up at Albert as Mister Dean turns to his weapons. To her horror, Albert is simply watching intently unlike the last visits when he ducked his head or stared into the fire. Her dress is pushed down her arms with the longer of the two knives, forming an upside down tent with the shoulders of the dress on the floor and the waist still attached to her skirt.

After one last trace with his finger he says to Nellie "Deep breath" and although she knows exactly what will come next and exactly what it will feel like, she obeys and cant help but let out an awkward cry when the blade pushes into her side and pulls up, following the direction of her ribs so the cut fits perfectly between them. Tonight is the first night the candle doesn't fall during the first cut, and for that Mister Dean applauds her.

Although she sounded like she was crying when she yelled out her pain, there are no tears dripping from her eyes, which is also a first, and the only thing that drips to the floor is her own blood in a steady red stream. Mister Dean just sets the slicing knife on Nellies back and admires the way the bloody blade rises and falls with her fast shaky breaths.

Once the stream of blood dies out into little trickles most of the pain has stopped, but Mister Dean lifts the blade from Nellie's back to make another cut between her next set of ribs, then again, until the gaps in her right rib cage are each branded with a dark red slit. A spot of her blood lands on the mans boot, so he moves his body to lift his boot to Nellie's face and tells her "clean it".

Only taking a moments hesitation she licks her own blood off of his shinny boot until no trace of her is left on him. The blood is metallic and unpleasant in her mouth and a whole new type of hurt, one of nostalgia, rushes to the front of her brain in the form of a memory of the time when her father told her to stop the bleeding of her pricked finger with her tongue.

When Mister Dean drops his boot Nellie's eyes once again find Albert's, hoping to find comfort and reassurance. His eyes aren't on hers, however, but the pool of blood under her, the small grin on his face making her sick to her stomach.

"don't throw up now…." Mister Dean warns, noticing the nauseous look on her face. Just as she thinks she may faint a hot stinging pain stabs the center of her back like a tiny needle, making her jump and in turn making the whole candle fall over and spill red hot wax onto her upper back. She pounds her flat palms into the ground repeatedly and grunts, reminding Mister green of the horses when he brands them with hot iron.

"Good girl, easy now…" Now tears do fall from Nellie's eyes hard and fast as sounds of a devastated child escape her throat. She never cries this hard during her sessions, and wishes hopelessly that one of the men would simply wipe the hot wax from her skin. She doesn't care that Mister Dean is enjoying this because she knew he would. But never did she expect Albert to find fascination in her undoing.

The next day Nellie has a new ladder of scars straight down her thighs. Mister Dean always had his way with her, but lucky for her his way never included sex. He did make her strip for him and paint a heart onto her bare chest with the hot wax, but when he became aroused he took care of it himself, commanding Nellie and Albert to watch as he did so.

She has avoided her husband all morning and last night, even refusing his help when he offered to wash the dried wax off of her back. Although it was a struggle, she cleaned herself off and bandaged herself carefully this morning. It being a Sunday, the shop wouldn't open. Usually Nellie would take this chance to go to the park with her husband but she doesn't think she will ever get the image of him grinning at her bleeding body out of her mind. So instead she busies herself with tidying up the shelves where she keeps all the flour, sugar, and bagged seasonings, a sharp pain running up her side every time she extends her arm above her head.

The door to the shop opens and closes quickly and as Nellie turns to see who came in she cringes and yelps, the gashes on her side not appreciating the turn of her body. "Oh. Miss get down from there!" The kind faced man says with a concerned tone, quickly walking around the counter to stand by the small ladder. He holds his hand out and she takes it gladly, hopping down to the floor too aggressively, making her yelp again and this time she stumbles into his chest.

"Oh, Im so sorry sir! I didn't mean to stumble!" Nellie straightens herself up and cant help but grin widely at the kind look in this mans eyes, eyes she has never seen before. Usually she is the talkative one, but in this moment she is lost for words.

"Its okay, honestly. Do you need to sit?" Not only are his eyes kind, Nellie realizes, but his voices is kind enough to match.

"No, of course not, you sit. You're the costumer. Let me get you a drink. And you're name is?"

"Im Benjamin. Benjamin Barker." He says happily as Nellie walks carefully over to the shelves she keeps the gin on, thanking herself silently for remembering to keep them on a low shelf. "Well, Ben" He giggles lightly at the fact that she is already calling him by a nickname so fondly "Have some of this. On the house. Im closed today anyway."

"Oh, im sorry… I assume you are Mrs. Lovett?" She nods her head, making her lively curls bounce "I didn't mean to barge in I just saw the stairs leading above your shop and figured I could ask… are you looking for a tenant? I'd pay a fair price, of course. I have asked a few people but this place seems best by far." He finishes with a broad smile that matches Nellies.

In her mind she can see this polite, sweet man living above her and paying her weekly so that awful Mister Dean doesn't have to. She thinks of her body having time to heal and recover, being able to buy meat for her pies from another seller, and actually having the money to pay for it this time.

"Do you have a husband… or a father? Should I talk to them about it?" Benjamin asks timidly, cutting off her train of thought. So much happiness surges through her she practically sings rather then speaks. "No, sir no I will talk to my husband and set everything up. We will think of a fair price but I guarantee that lot will be yours Ben… I mean, Mr. Barker!"

The two chat happily for the next few minutes, Benjamin telling her about his travels and neglecting the full glass of gin in front of him. Nellie listens to him speak with complete joy and looks at him with sparkling eyes as if he was her savior. And to her it feels like he is.

She learns that he is a barber from the North, having finally left his family to open his own business. They are the same exact age, except he was born in the summer and she in the winter, which surprises Benjamin because of her "sunny disposition." Nellie loves how clean and fresh he looks, most men she see's in this city look as if they have bathed in a pile of ash. His hands also look incredibly soft and her grin drops for the first time when she cant think of an excuse to touch them.

"Well, Mrs. Lovett, I must go now. I'll see you in one weeks time?"

"No!" Nellie half-shouted, startling him "Um, no lets not wait that long. It'll be two days?"

"Oh you really know how to make a costumer happy. Ill see you in two days, then! And my regards to your husband as well." As Nellie helps him put on his coat before he walks out the door she tries one last time to touch his hand and fails.

"Ill see you soon Ben!" She calls out to him with a chipper tone in a vast sea of grumpy looking people, making Benjamin smile before turning and getting lost in the crowd.

"Absolutely not Nell!" His big grumbling voice practically shakes their small bedroom "We will not live with a stranger above us!" Nellie slams her little fists against her sides, wishing she could somehow intimidate him the way he was with her. "Albert we need the money!"

"We have enough money! I swear, greed will be the death of you!"

as his face turns red Nellie slumps her shoulders and lets out a big sigh, walking towards her angry husband slowly "Sweet heart" She never used the term on him, but she figures she may as well try everything "Do you realize what this means?" She stops in front of him and puts her hands on his broad chest. "No more meetings with Mister Dean. This man… Benjamin Barker… he only wants to use upstairs. That's practically nothing."

"No. The final answer is no, its not a good idea." When Albert says this she lets her hands drop limply from his chest and she takes a few steps backwards. "What are you doing, Nell?" he asks as Nellie pushes the fabric of her dress off her shoulders and lets it fall around her feet, never taking her eyes off of his.

She watches him as his eyes scan her naked body, covered in scars new and old and dry blood from the bleeding when she stretched her body beyond comfort. She was also skinner then ever, this was something she hoped her husband would mention eventually but never did. She looked closely into his eyes, trying to find the emotion he feels. Hoping to see the anger and rage and hurt and humiliation she feels when she looks in the mirror. She wants him to hurt for her, to want to protect her and her body and her pride.

But what she finally detects in his eyes is what she fears most; pleasure, excitement and admiration. As soon as his eyes finally snap back up to hers she is crying. Albert tries to come forward and embrace her but the moment he moves closer she steps back, tripping over her own dress and falling onto her side, making her scream in pain.

"shhhh Nell, Nell, Nell, my precious Nell…." Albert flopps down on the ground beside her small body and pulls her to his chest, his body pressing uncomfortably against her damaged rib cage.

As he strokes her head all of her emotions stop cold. The betrayal, the disgust, the hurt, even the pain in her side, all of it disappears and she feels numb. "Albert" she draws out slowly with a cold voice, her head resting limply on his shoulder "He will live here. I will not work with Mister Green again. Get your hand off of my head and let go of me."

Something about the coldness in his wife's voice makes Albert do exactly as she says. When he stands up he offers her his hand but she get back onto her feet herself, only shaking mildly when she straightens. Putting her dress back on she still doesn't break eye contact with him, her dark eyes a stern black wall to his questioning ones. Her sudden change in tone making him worry. He has never seen her like this. Never heard her talk like that, either. His chipper little wife cold, hard, and unfeeling as a brick wall.

"Im going to start moving things out from upstairs. I'm going to need your help." She says with the same stony voice as she turns towards their bedroom door. The time where he could have had her love back had past, it fled before his eyes in those life changing two minutes. When he found pleasure in her pain in vulnerability. He doesn't know it now, but Nellie tells herself to never let herself become that vulnerable again.

Nellie also realizes for the first time that no one will ever protect her, or even care for her. But also that no one will treat her the way the butcher (who she use to think of as husband) and the farmer have treated her.