Okay. First, I don't own Beetlejuice. In any incarnation, if any way, movie or cartoon verse. Nor do I own anything associated with him, by either. ANd that's first.
--
Second... This had absolutely nothing to do with the series I'm currently working on. Please understand that before reading even a single more word. This is placed in the horror genre, and rated M, for a reason. Forget that it's vaguely cartoon verse. There's nothing for kids in it. It's based off a pleasant little nightmare I just had, and enjoyed so much, I had to write it down when I woke up.
And here I pause, as if listening to your question. And here I answer, as if I've heard it... "Yes, I suspect the nice people with the butterfly nets will be coming for me any day now. Thanks for asking."
Actually, it's not that terrible, graphics wise, or anything. It's just kind of.. disturbing. Not a view I've had of my favorite pair before. And something that I seriously considered not posting, because... Well, I don't know myself. That's why I'm posting it anyway.
Sorry for the ramblings. I had a weird patch of sleep there...
--
The Neitherworld was, as usual, barely tolerable at best, and only made this much so by the twelve year old goth girl by his side, grinning wildly at everything, as if it were new. To her, he supposed it was, even though he'd been bringing her here for months now. "Deadly-vu…" She whispered, holding her arms out, and doing a graceful little spin. "Where did you get it, Beej?"
He admired the red spider-web poncho on the girl, it suited her. "Somewhere or other." He muttered, pretending he was being modest. The truth was, he didn't quite remember himself where he'd gotten it. It had just been in his hand when he'd woken up a few days before, and he'd figured she'd like it. It worried him a bit, that he didn't remember… But only a little. Everything seemed to take on a slightly different reality when the girl wasn't around. That was just the way it was.
Lydia paused now, as she finally seemed to recognize the road they were taking, and her face lit up like nothing else in the world of the dead. "The Freaky Eye-Scream Shop!" It came out close to a purr, followed by a little laugh. "I love this place!"
Of course you do, he muttered to himself, his hands stuck in his pockets as he floated along, why else would I be wasting my time here? So much to do, so much to do… He gave a random little grin at the sign on the front door, proclaiming that the Chef's Hand had given this place three fingers. She'd get a kick out of this. "Hey babes, check it out…"
Without even so much as a wave of his fingers, said chef, rather than holding up three fingers, was holding up just one. Lydia covered her mouth, giving an embarrassed little giggle, still young enough to find such small forbidden things funny. "B, that's terrible…" But she loved it. And she looked at him adoringly for thinking of such a simple, stupid joke. And he loved that.
"Gotta give the guy a hand," He smirked, making a pair of hands appear before him, and clap, "Of course, he already is one, right? But hell, anyone can use a few extra hands…"
It was of course, exactly the wrong thing to say, and he knew it the moment he said it. His powers around her were always so unpredictable, for reasons he didn't understand, and before he could think of how this might be interpreted, she was suddenly surrounded by a dozen sharply clawed hands, snatching at the air around her, greedy for her pain.
"Shit." He muttered flatly to himself, as the first of the hands swept in to grab her, by her new poncho, and lifted her into the air with a mighty yank, making her feet leave the ground. He knew what was coming next, knew himself and his powers too well to believe anything else, and before it could, he turned, and rammed his head into the nearest wall. Sparks exploded. The hands disappeared. His world went black.
The first thing he felt, coming back to consciousness, was a pair of warm lips on his own. Warm. It felt damn good. He almost kissed them back, when something that approached common sense for the poltergeist took hold. Who the hell would be kissing him? Who the hell warm?
Breath entered his lips, deeply, and the mouth drew away, to press hard on his chest. He grimaced. Lyds. Swatting her away as he sat up, he wiped off his mouth, now just annoyed at the lingering warmth there. "What are you thinking, babes?" He scowled, cross. "You're just a kid!"
Lydia sat staring at him, looking baffled, as an embarrassed blush crept up her cheeks. "It was just CPR…" She murmured, as if this should have been obvious.
He continued staring at her, in the closest he ever came to anger for the girl, and shook his head, sneering. "One. Don't need to breathe. Dead, babes. Two. That heart hasn't beat in a hell of a long time, and there's no way a half-grown breather like you is going to start it again." She just looked flustered, obviously not having thought this very far through. "Three… Hell babes, you going to wake a guy with a kiss, at least wait until you're older, so he can enjoy it."
Lydia laughed in embarrassment, certain that this last was just a joke. He didn't see what was funny, but he allowed himself a small smile anyway, since she did. He got to his feet, somewhat clumsily, thankful she hadn't asked why he'd felt the need to brain himself. Better she didn't know what a close call she'd just had. "Go on," He said tolerantly, picking his feet back off the ground, "Go get something to eat."
Her amusement died, and she suddenly looked stricken. "You're not coming in?" She pleaded, giving her best pout. She was good with pouts. She could usually get him to do just about anything.
But today was different. Today was for her own good. It had been too long for him, and he'd almost taken it out on her. "Business, babes." He said flatly, well aware that she wouldn't press it past that. Business after all, was the one thing he'd impressed on her never to question. She still looked disappointed, but shrugged, and pushed her way inside.
Leaving him alone. He drew his hand across his lips again, a different reason this time, as a smile he saved for these moments without her played across his face. Business it was. His fingers itched for it. With a thought he was in his little cubbyhole, a sad excuse for an office if there ever was one, but which in over three hundred years, no one else had yet managed to find. No one he couldn't deal with, anyway.
Humming under his breath, he paused by his rolodex, and gave it a little spin, holding his finger out randomly to stop it. Pulling the card free, he examined it, then shook his head with disgust, and tossed it over his shoulder. A family with kids. He'd had more trouble dealing with kids, since he's started hanging around with Lydia. It would pass in time, but for now, he'd look for another way to entertain himself.
The next card he pulled free was much more promising. A grin broke across his face as he read it, soft laughter escaping his lips. Yeah. Perfect. That would just about do it.
Shuffling through the planes of existence didn't take much effort, but without someone to call him through, it did take a little time. As he bypassed one gate after another, he rolled his mind back to his first meeting with the kid. Little goth girl, alone in some suburban nowhere at night. Sitting in her yard, staring off at nothing. He'd practically been drooling.
He was just going to scare her, of course. Scare her enough to piss herself, but… Other than a little mental trauma, he was going to let her get away unscathed. He was in a rare, merciful mood. He'd picked a demonic steel and fur wolf form, more shadow than substance, gave a pleased grin that looked like it was about to rip someone's face off, and climbed her fence. Coming up behind her, he'd breathed softly, on the back of her neck…
The girl had stiffened, spinning around, her eyes growing wide. But she didn't scream, or run. She just stared. The look in her eyes was, strange, he remembered thinking, even back then. "Deadly-vu…" She'd whispered, lifting a hand without hesitation, and twining it through his rough mane. "Shit, are you going to kill me?" Still utterly without fear. Instead, with something approaching awe.
And he'd shifted under her hand, taken aback by this kid that faced down an apparent werewolf in her back yard, even daring to touch it, and not at all worried about dying at his hand. Of course, he could have made her worried… But for the moment, he'd been intrigued. He let her run her fingers, both hands now, through his fur a few more times, then changed under her touch, back into his usual terrifying self.
Her eyes had, if possible, grown wider. But she didn't draw her hands back straight away, tracing the patterns of mold and dirt on his throat, and looking at him in nothing short of amazement. He'd shrugged off her touch after a moment, uncomfortable by the closeness, and she'd retreated, respectfully. Oh, but that look in her eye… "What else can you do?" She whispered, as if it just made sense that if he could do that, he could do anything.
Grinning, he'd spent the night for her, the first of many, taking one of his most terrifying shapes after another. With each one, the awe in her eyes continued to grow, until she was staring at him no less than worshipfully. Like he was some kind of dark god. "You are so cool!" She whispered at last, as he held one of his favorite forms, a giant snake, and currently held her upside down by one foot.
She thought he was cool. It made him grin a little, which normally would be terrifying, but she just seemed to love it. Dangling there in midair, never more vulnerable in her life, in the hands, so to speak, of a killer, and she thought he was cool. "Yeah?" He hissed, setting her back down gently, before taking his usual form. "You think so, do you, babes?" He dusted his knuckles off on his lapel, more pleased than he cared to admit.
The kid treated him like he was on some kind of a pedestal, like he was the best thing around, and there in the darkness of her backyard, he decided he liked it. She thought that was cool? He would show her cool… But already she was working her way under his skin, itching up into his brain, like some kind of addiction. He looked at him like he was some great new god… And that look was like a drug. He was hooked before he knew it.
And hell if he'd let anything take it away, including his own worse nature. Moving through the last gateway, he whistled cheerfully, looking up at the house that offered his latest gig. Hell, this was going to be fun. He hadn't given a good scare in a while… Too long, judging by what had happened back at the Eye-Scream Shop.
Well, as long as it's not Lyds! He thought to himself, strolling up to the house casually. Most people wouldn't even see him. Of those that did… Who cared? They couldn't do a damn thing to him. If anything, and his hopes rose a little at this, they'd just add to the fun.
First the resident ghosts had to make themselves scarce… Always getting in the way once they saw what he had in mind. Few spirits had hardened themselves to his point, and they always ended getting up upset, trying to stop him. More than one had been exorcised, for trying to null the contract too soon. So he'd learned to work around it.
Soon it was just him, and the woman. A raven haired beauty. She reminded him a bit of Lyds, but he quickly brushed the thought away. It wasn't her, and that was all that mattered. She was tied down to the wooden chair, a steel gag bolted over her mouth, eyes wide and panicking. He pushed his cart of 'instruments' over to her side, whistling again. When he stopped, it was just to explain the situation.
"See now," He said calmly, ever grinning, "This house is kind of already taken. The former residents? They want you out. It's my job," And he gestured over the tray of glinting, sharp tools, "To convince you to move out. And I have to warn you, I enjoy my job." He lifted up the first small blade, meant for slicing slivers of skin free. "Now I'm going to get to work, and in a little while, depending on my mood, I'll ask you if you're more amiable about finding another place to live."
Of course, he could have just flayed her alive in a second, and that probably would have done the trick, but then he risked the shock killing her. The resident ghosts wanted her out, not joining them for a century or so of haunting. Besides, he liked the feel of flesh parting under his blade…
Roughly two hours later, he reflected that he might have gone too far. Blood splattered all across his favorite suit, he considered her with a frown as she laid curled in the middle of the floor, eyes wide, staring at nothing at all. He'd broken her, good.
Well, at least I feel better, he consoled himself, getting down to the task of cleaning up. It didn't take long with his powers, soon not even his coat was stained. With an afterthought, and a flick of his fingers, he healed the woman's wounds, until she merely looked like she'd had an extremely bad day, without any indication of why. He smiled, remembering how he'd done that for Lydia once, when she'd managed to break her arm during one of their adventures. The way she'd looked at him then, surpassed all looks she'd given him before. He still loved thinking of it.
Banishing the tools of his trade with a thought, he wiped his hands off on his pants, for all that there was nothing to wipe away, and looked at the woman with a pleasant grin. "I must thank you," He assured her earnestly, "For the pleasure of doing business with you. I trust you'll reconsider my clients' request that you move out now… That is, if you still can consider anything. If not… I'll be seeing you again, won't I?" He took her whimper as a yes, and left, still smiling.
Now, now he was in the mood to see Lyds again, with no more worry of hurting her. He popped into her mirror, a much easier task than taking all those gates, and almost laughed as he saw what she was doing. Dressed in her black cotton nightgown, looking more like some funeral shroud, she was swaying back and forth to these low eerie drumbeats, eyes closed, an expression of utter bliss on her features.
If she'd been older, it would have been mesmerizing… As it was, he just felt a trace of fond amusement, watching her, waiting for her to see him, and reflecting that she'd be older soon enough.
When he tired of waiting, he cleared his throat a little, and she jumped, looking with wide eyes towards her mirror. He flashed his teeth at her, and she blushed brilliantly, having been caught in her private moment. "Beetlejuice…" She crooned, a pleased look flickering across her face nonetheless.
"Two more times, babes." He smiled, well aware that he looked, and in fact was, in an extraordinarily good mood.
She walked up to mirror, clearly started to say it again, then paused, looking uncertain. "Are you still mad at me, Beetlejuice?" She asked softly. Still saying his name a second time. A warm thrill traced his spine, and he smiled more widely. She ventured a small smile back. "You sure…?" She wheedled gently.
"You know I can't stay mad at you, babes." He assured her honestly, the part of him that reveled in death, pain, and fear, already falling away under her adoring eyes. Sometimes it felt like he was a completely different person around her… A trickster. A prankster. But no killer. "Say it one more time!"
A wide grin broke across her face, and she threw her hands up, tipping her head back with a look of adoration. "BEETLEJUICE!" She cried, not caring who heard her this time.
The poltergeist cackled, reached through the mirror, and drew her with him back down into the Neitherworld. "I got this horrible place to show you, Lyds." He informed her as her feet touched the ground, pleased that he'd thought of this. "It's called 'The Rack.' Sort of a medieval joint. A pool hall for, ah, tortured souls."
She giggled, as usual, finding humor in his choice of words. "B, you're so crazy…" She teased him, linking her arm through his without hesitation. At this of course, he could only do his best not to laugh. Yeah, he was crazy. He'd known that for a long time. But if he had his way, she'd never know just how crazy he was…
"You should have brought your camera, Lyds." He berated her, tugging at the red poncho he'd slipped over her shoulders, apparently without her knowing it. "You could scare the shit out of the kids at school."
Lydia chuckled. "I'll leave that to you, B." She demurred innocently, not aware how tempting the offer was to him. He just smiled. He'd do it, and enjoy every minute. But he had to make sure not to go too far. Now that he had her, he had no intention of letting go. But hell, he'd turn his powers to anyone else, in this world or the last… Just not his Lyds.
And they walked along, chatting amiably, him making ridiculous puns for the opportunity to make her smile. Her, the only one in any world, safe from the killer on her arm…
Anything for you, babes.
--
