Sweeney Todd - Star-cross'd

Chapter I ☾

"the sky is so tragically beautiful; a graveyard of stars..." ~ anonymous.

~  West London, England, 1846  ~
"I have sailed the world, beheld its wonders from the Dardanelles to the mountains of Peru, but there's no place like London!" came the melodic sound of a young sailor's mused singing.

"No, there's no place like London..." came another voice; bitter and spiteful.

"Mr Todd?" the young sailor ventured, concern laced through his voice.

He had learnt to be cautious of the manner in which he spoke to the older man. Said man presented himself as cold and stern, but was no less troubled. He could be triggered with great ease; always submerged within his own dark thoughts.

Mr Todd's scowl never faltered. "You are young. Life has been kind to you. You will learn..."

The man slowly advanced forward as his gaze scanned the surrounding buildings distastefully. The sailor watched him with unadulterated interest.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and the vermin of the world inhabit it and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit, and it goes by the name of London..." he spoke with a sneer. "At the top of the hole sit a privileged few, making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo, turning beauty into filth and greed—I too have sailed the world and seen its wonders, for the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru. But there's no place like London!"

When the ship finally docked, the younger man joined the older in disembarking it following a long and tedious journey. Dark clouds loomed above them, rendering the nightfall even darker in the absence of moonlight. The city of London was at the mercy of the dead of night; the only evidence of life being the unfortunates and beggars who continued to roam the dank streets. Time existed not to them, it measured naught.

The sight of the forsaken streets only served to torment Todd further as he stepped forward, scanning his surroundings almost dubiously. London was a ghost—a city as old as time with its rich history and tales to be told, but nevertheless stuck in the present, the moment; one that never shifted to past and seldom became future. The very city within which Todd - as the man he had once been - had once harboured such sheer joy... short-lived as it was. He could hardly believe that the visage before him was that very same city, though now it's appearance was tainted with the blood and tears of the innocent. Its roots comprised of the sweat and labour of the blameless. Its gloom was not entirely the result of merely the night, but rather the sickening injustices that occurred and continued to within it.

Injustice.

"Is everything alright, Mr Todd?" the sailor asked quietly from behind him.

"I beg your indulgence, Anthony. My mind is far from easy," Mr Todd replied, tone softening slightly. "In these once-familiar streets I feel... shadows. Everywhere."

Anthony's brows furrowed in confusion. "Shadows?"

"Ghosts," came a whispered reply.

There was a brief stretch of silence before the older man began to clarify his statements through a song;

"There was a barber and his wife, and she was beautiful. A foolish barber and his wife, she was his reason and his life, and she was beautiful!" he sang, voice etched with undisguised pain. "And she was virtuous, and he was... naïve. There was another man who saw that she was beautiful. A pious vulture of the law who, with a gesture of his claw, removed the barber from his plate, then there was nothing but to wait; and she would fall, so soft, so young, so lost and, oh, so beautiful!"