I do not own any of the Sweeney Todd characters no matter how much I want to.

The Macabre Dance

By Paige


What does desperation look like? Is it a child skinny and ragged in a small enclosed room, or a man begging on the street? Or is it a girl locked away with only a skylight as a portal to our world?

How about cruelty? Do we see it as slavery, bondage, or abuse? Is it years of sadness left untouched? Yes, but we never see it as an overprotective guardian locking away his ward.

What is desire? The dictionary says a need, extreme fascination, and even a want. Do we ever see it as craving, crazing, or coveting someone so badly you'd hurt your obstacle? Never. Love in story books is pure, deep, and true. Not cruel and selfish.

What do the citizen's of 18th century London think of the Judge's home? A sanctuary for the innocent, a touch a justice in a silken robe and powder wig, God's gavel for us to touch? Or do they see it as an abattoir. A dangerous place for women, perhaps. Never…Welcome to the ball. Grab a willing partner and dance the macabre dance

Part 1

Chapter 1- The Abattoir

It was a glacial Friday morning in London. The usually balmy, stiff air smelled of newly laid snow, and was full of cries of ecstasy. London got a fleet of snow, and many a child danced in the street. A crowd of small children gathered around a puppeteer who was entertaining them .It was all satisfying until a jet black carriage broke the cries of glee. It crunched on small snow men, ran over shovels, and cruelly pushed poor men and women to the sides of it. As many curious children gathered around the carriage parents began to worry, but worry didn't last long. Once babes saw who was in the carriage they ran, far as their mothers let them. Judge Turpin- the most feared and most respected judge in the world- sat in the car.

A child stepped forward to see the man better, and was surprised to see the man had his palm extended for him. In said palm lay a toffee. The child clearly unawares ate the candy, smiling and saying thank you all the while. The smile soon turn into a frown and the "thank you" s into screams. Blood spilled from the young child's mouth. A small razor was concealed in the toffee.

"Let this be a lesson to all you poor people. Stay off my street or none of you will have tongues." Turpin said, getting out of the carriage. He pushes the boy aside, and smirks as he falls. His fun for the day is over and he turns his attention to a set of keys on the ground. The keys were crafted from gold, so they had to be from his home. Turpin looked up to see his beautiful ward's back in the window. Why she was not dressed on this cold day? She then turned, almost like looking out. Her sapphire eyes were filled with something other than the usual sadness, and her golden hair tumbled down her back and over her pale, milk colored breasts. His previously limp manhood bulged into attention as he thought of her beauty, and then told himself he'd handle his dilemma as soon as he got inside.

Turpin's attention turned back to the keys. Why were they outside instead of on the parlor table? He picked them up cautiously, and looked them over. On the ring was a note. After reading it over he realized it directions to Johanna's room. Eyes that once held admiration for the woman of his dreams shone with hate. Anthony was inside of his house with his ward. No wonder Johanna looked so pleased. Her "rescuer" was there.

Turpin turned the correct key into the lock, and paused, waiting for his cue. There it was. The sound of bare feet running towards the door told him to throw the door open. To his displeasure, the room showed only what nightmares could. Johanna was practically naked. Her corset was gone, her soft breasts exposed, and she was wearing the thinnest of knickers. Anthony was – as he had guessed- was there, down to his underwear also. Rage bubbled in him and finally bubbled over when he saw that little red marks were around Johanna's neck and panty line.

"You insolent boy! I'll have you gutted like a fish!" He stepped towards Anthony and pierced him with an always handy, but well hidden blade of glass. Anthony's blood flowed.

"Beadle take this filth elsewhere."

"Sir, please! I wanted him to do it. I wanted it badly!" She said boldly. A look of desperation was shot at Anthony, and he responded with a smile as Beadle grabbed him.

Turpin glared at the unfaithful Johanna, and snatched her arm. She struggled to get away from him, but did it with no avail. He threw her against the wall, and went to lock the door. He pulled the blinds quickly and began to take off his belt.

Johanna was pulling herself off the floor, when the first lash fell. She screamed in pain.

" I have" crack, crack. " spared the rod" crack, crack. " Too damned long!" crack, crack. " You ignorant" crack, crack. " Ungrateful child!" crack, crack. " You will regret, ever sinning you whore." Crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack!

Johanna screamed as Turpin kicked her hard in the stomach over and over. Blood dribbled from her lips as he tossed her carelessly on the couch. Johanna began to black out. The last thing she saw before her eyes closed was Turpin on top of her and the sound of a belt buckle.

_ Johanna woke up confused. She felt a pain, and a feeling of being quite naked. Then she screamed.

"Shush, Johanna. Don't want to catch anyone's unwanted attention." He grunted, pushing deeper into her.

"Sir, your way too big for me. Please!" Johanna squealed. The judge was rather large. 10 inches of pure, manhood penetrated deeper inside until he finally touched the spot her was searching for.

"Thank you for the compliment." He grunted again, finally sheathed inside of her. That's when the attack began. The screams filled the room, vibrating off of walls, and tearing at the wallpaper. Johanna screamed so loud glasses in the room over quaked. He grew tired of her screaming and gagged her with her underwear. Johanna's eyes filled with tears, and let them spill out. The man she trusted, loved like a father, was raping her. She tried to scream through the gag with no prevail.

"My sweet damsel. My soiled virgin Johanna." Turpin moaned on the edge of coming. Johanna let out a moan , and she fell limp. Turpin came over and over into her weak womanly body.

He got off her, regaining composure. He was still enraged with her, that would never change, but when he looked at her he felt pity. She was crying profusely, hair limp, bloody from the rape and whipping, and bruised from his abuse. He gently began to kiss away her tears.

Just as he began to kiss the tears away, Johanna came to. Her face crumpled in pain when she tried to move her legs. Turpin had raped her, beat her, then was trying to find pity with her? How dare he? Johanna attempted to push his body away from hers.

" Rot in hell." Johanna murmured. Turpin's head shot up, eyes narrowed and fist clenched. He grabbed her throat and began to choke her.

" Sir…please! Papa."

" How dare you , you whore? I provided for you all your damned life and this is the thanks I get for wiping you nose every time you got a cold! I should have left you with your mother. You two are just damned alike. Two selfish bitches who don't recognize a damned good chance when she sees it." He tightened the grip.

"Daddy please. I'm sorry please." Johanna gasped for air as Turpin let go of her. He kicked her again in the stomach. Johanna yelped.

" Go to your room or I'll find another reason to beat the shit out of your again."

Her eyes were open wide from fear. Johanna ran up the stairs quickly tripping once or twice, but never stopping to look back. She knew Turpin wasn't far behind her, and would be back to beat her again.

She just got to her door, and collapsed on the floor. She screamed in agony, and crawled towards her bed. Johanna's eyes flickered then fell.

In the shadows Turpin stood, eyes narrow and raking greedily over her limp body.

Chapter 2- Painted Smiles

The most out of her room now was loud childish bawling. Johanna shut herself away- almost like her mother. Turpin would stay in her room and coax her into eating sometimes. Other times Johanna would scream at him and he'd beat her driving her deeper into her self-induced insanity.

This was one of those other times. Johanna was thrashing about as Turpin pounded into her body. He came into her and place a sticky kiss on her neck, and left her shivering and crying.

" The case of Anthony Hope, rapist to Johanna Turpin, is adjourned." Turpin banged the gavel against the desk and rose to leave. He brushed past Anthony eyes leering.

" You are a cold blooded man Turpin." Anthony said. His eyes were black and blue from beatings, his lip busted open and bleeding freely.

" You noticed? I've been working on it. Feel like being locked in a basement all your life?" Turpin said cockily. He nodded to one of the guards, and they snapped handcuffs on him.

" Take him back to the manor. I'll have him- fixed later." Turpin turned away, and stepped into the carriage that waited just outside for him. Beadle sat inside, shivering from the cold.

" Nice to see yo Beadle. I planned on walking home, but it was very charitable of you to bring your carriage around." Beadle nodded

" Milord, what are you going to do about Johanna?" Turpin opened his mouth to say something, then blinked.

" Dear Beadle, I plan to marry her. I don't need her permission, but I don't want to force it upon her. She is too delicate for that. So I'll ask her tonight at dinner- and if she knows what's best for her she'll say yes to me."

" m'lud. Ms. Johanna is extremely withdrawn. Are you sure you should-"

" Beadle, I basically ripped her virginity from her. She has no damned right to say no to me. If she does, and she is pregnant. Well, she'll be a whore. If we wed, then she will be safe, her `dignity' intact and all her girlish nonsense protected under my prestige." Turpin's eyes drift outside, barely grasping each house and common Londoner. He was supposed to feel guilty, but instead he felt a need for more. Turpin wished to see Johanna again, but maybe in a calmer more sensual state than she was right now. He didn't find snot, blood, and the smell of urine at all sexy.

" M'lud. Isn't that Mrs. Catherine?" Beadle was referring to a red-headed woman clad in a skimpy gown, revealing her soft breasts and even softer bottom. The woman is holding a babe. It clearly was his, it's hair color, face, and thickness gave it away.

" Tis it is Beadle. Catherine… She is the sickly Catherine right?"

" I think so. Shall we call her for dinner?" Beadle asked.

" Do please. I want to see how my eighth bastard is doing." Beadle waves Mrs. Catherine over. The woman walks slowly, dress shifting each time. Turpin looked a bit closer. The damned whore was pregnant! More shit on his plate.

" Beadle when was the last time I saw Mrs. Catherine personally?"

" Seven months ago. Seems as if she is full of another child."

" Your Honor. I- I wasn't expecting you to be in this part of town. At least not with me in mind." Catherine gushed on and on until Turpin held up his hand.

" Join me for dinner tonight. And bring the babes." Turpin said, a false smile painting it's way across his face.

" All nine of them?" Catherine asked coldly. Her face lost it's luster as she directed his eyes towards the bump that signified their tenth babe together.

" of course. See you at nine dearest." Turpin smiled once more at her. Catherine spat at the window, and he continued to smile. Almost like it was painted onto his face.

It was approximately nine o' clock. Turpin had the maids set the table and make the food two hours ago, the food was now dizzying him, and made him think only of Catherine.

Why had he invited her? Did he want to sleep with a pregnant woman? She did look lovely as she walked towards him, the bump absolutely glowing in her belly. But did he really want to meet all nine of his bastard children? They must be furious. He had only supplied a healthy life for some of his favorites. And clearly Catherine was not one of those.

The door bell rang and Turpin nodded to a maid. The women chatted for a while, then Turpin saw what he was avoiding. Nine children, all under ten, lined up next to their mother who was holding a baby boy clearly only in his months in her arms.

"May I introduce you sir?"

" By all means." Turpin laid back in his chair.

" Ashley- 8, Mora, Kathy, Tina- triplets, five, Marcus, Timothy, Gabriel, Richard- 3, triplets, Cameron- 1. and the angel in my arms is Frances."

" That's lovely." Catherine places Frances in Turpin's arms. Turpin caresses the babe. He stares into the eyes of his newborn son, and kisses his plump face.

" He and quartets can stay with me. The rest I can care less about." The words left his mouth before he had a chance to think it over. If he kept them- he couldn't. " But only on weekends."

Catherine gasped as Turpin bounced the giggling baby on his knee. Frances was too precious to leave with Turpin. What if he became abusive and hurt him?

" You can leave. Do you think I really would have a whore in my house for dinner? The only reason a whore would step foot in here was if I was fucking her and you seem a bit too fat for me." Turpin said bluntly.

"Beadle dispose of the pig."