A/N: Ah with all those unfinished stories sitting there and pleading at me to work on them, I start anew. Because it's Halloween, and because I've never tried my hand at Beej before. I'll take this opportunity to note that I do in no way own any rights to the characters used in the following story, and that they are for amusement and not monetary gain. Let me remind all that I have NOT tried my hand at the Ghost with the Most before, so bear with my mistakes and keep your criticism to the constructive kind, if you please. It's been a while since I've watched the movie even, though it's one of my dear favorites. Also, the rating is low for now but I do plan to up it for later chapters: language, adult situations, etcetera... Anyway. Happy Halloween everybody, and enjoy!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------
Chapter One:
I should be wary.
I am. More so than my lips pressed tightly together can signify. More than the hint of sweat beading on my forehead and the extreme pallor that even I'm not quite known for, can possibly denote.
But there's something wrong. Something I can't quite place, a malicious force that's sliding around the sleepy Winter River community, and seeping itself into all aspects of life here.
It's midday. There should be birds in the sky and children playing on the sidewalk. It's a sleepy town, but this is comatose. Women doing shopping in town are rushing along their way, shoulders drawn in protectively, heads bent, not meeting any gazes. And it used to be such a friendly place.
The sun should be shining down on us, the gentle rush of water under the bridge, but instead there is this stillness that seems to muffle and drown everything else out. There are no clouds in the sky, but the sunlight is filtered and grainy. There is no breeze to the air, but curtains shift restlessly. The weather is temperate, but there is no wildlife out.
Something is very wrong.
Not for the first time that month, I miss Barbara and Adam. Miss their insight, their link to things that are more difficult for us still living to understand. Miss the doors they could open that I can't step through alone. But Barbara and Adam are gone, given some afterlife vacation for good behavior, for services rendered. Some type of paradise that they can't return from, but who would want to? I'm happy for them, but it doesn't help me now.
I'm all alone here. The house is mine, my parents safely and blissfully unaware of the darkness reaching toward me as they sit back in the hustle of the city, where life seems more real to them and less to me. Not that they could help, or that they wouldn't try if I were to call. Delia is many things, but she loves me. In her own way.
I wring my hands together and bite my lip hard enough to cause real pain, trying to snap myself out of the fog. Trying to find another solution to this problem. One that won't undo everything that Barbara saved me from. But, as wicked as he was, whatever's out there is worse. The air is so still I know a storm must be coming, and I can feel it in me that I'm running out of time.
It's now or never.
Though I know I should be wary…
"Betelgeuse."
I wait for a hairsbreadth of a second, expecting…what do I expect?…it's been years. He could be anywhere…
"Betelgeuse."
I try to imagine I hear something, feel something coming, waiting. But I'm only imagining it.
"Betelgeuse."
And as sure as I was a moment ago that no one was listening, I am sure now that everything has heard me. There is a scream of anger on the wind. The windows rattle, the glass in them breaking, and everything around me is angry. The town is angry, and I have enough sense of myself to cover my head with my arms to ward of the danger that's circling me like a vulture.
Every muscle in me is tensed, waiting for death or pain or whatever this is to consume me, but then there are strong hands on my arms, squeezing to the point of pain, but not harming, and a rushing in my ears as I am pulled away from the evil that was coming for me and taken somewhere else altogether.
"I knew you had potential."
I know it's him before I pull my arms down to see that familiar dark smirk and mischievous glint to his eyes. The disgusting mantle of filth he chooses to wear most days carefully in place. It's him down to the last detail. His presence even instills in me the same feelings it did all those years ago. A strange sort of comfortable foreboding. Because even as I feared him, there was something in him that I trusted. Perhaps I was a fool, and am still, but I'm yet alive.
"Betel-" My exclamation is cut short by his finger over my lips and a raised brow coupled with a head shake.
"Nah ah ah. Let's not say the B word again just yet," He reminds me, and I nod, knowing I must look like a mute at the moment. As much as I tried to mentally prepare myself for his arrival, I seem lost for words. He drops down to a crouch in front of me, elbow resting comfortably on his knee and reaching a hand out to help me up as a lazy second thought.
Once I'm on my feet, I realize I've not so much as looked at where we are, my head turning this way and that in confusion. It's not my house, not anywhere I've ever been before, and what's more it doesn't feel right. An unsettlement in my stomach reminiscent of turning down a road not on any directions.
"Where are we?" My gaze is drawn to the doors around me that I didn't seem to notice before. Or maybe now they were just taking shape.
"Nowhere," He answered with a hint of amusement to his voice, "In between if you need a better explanation."
"Why?" I don't question what In between meant. I probably wouldn't like the answer.
"Well I assumed you wanted to stay among the breathin', or did you just invite me out to attend the funeral?" He chuckled as I looked back at him and notice that he's looking at me more intently than he had when I was a child. I had forgotten how time passes for him. It must seem as though I'd grown in the blink of an eye, though I'd hardly expected him to notice. Or maybe I'd just hoped he wouldn't.
"No…I…," Pushing a strand of black hair out of my eyes, I fight the compulsion to fidget., "I need your help."
"That, I figured out for myself," He agreed, breathing on his knuckles and then rubbing them against the lapel of his suit as though to shine them, "And I think I can help you. Question is, what's in it for me?"
"I'll marry you." I sounded too quick to agree, too eager in my own ears. But I knew it was all he wanted, and I'd already known I'd give it to him. His eyes narrowed.
"Just like that huh? Was like pullin teeth the last time. There some trick up your sleeve?" He glanced left and right as though expecting Barbara to come riding down on a sandworm over him again any moment, "Or maybe you just missed my company?"
I just shook my head and answered, "No tricks. I'll marry you."
He moved closer to me, "You agreed the last time too, but then I ended up sandworm fodder…"
He was right. It wasn't fair. I'd always known it wasn't. He might be wretched, but he'd kept his end of the bargain. I'd been the one to cheat. To prove I was serious, I lifted the chain from around my neck to expose what dangled beneath my shirt. His ring.
A definitely pleased and mildly sinister smile split his face.
"Ah, now we're talking," He agreed, and with a snap of his fingers our wedding arrangements began anew, startling me once again.
He'd dressed me differently this time, instead of garish red taffeta, he had me in the longest dress I'd ever imagined. It was the dress of a woman, whereas my last wedding gown had been for a child. It reminded me once again that he'd noticed how I'd grown and wished to remind me that he knew it. A dark, blood red with a neckline that plunged to my belly, and a train that stretched out behind me into the shadows. It was every bit as tacky as the last one had been, but the differences were disconcerting. The veil came to my elbows and only partially obscured my vision of the ceremony.
The little brown beetle of a man stood there as before. As though no time had passed, and for a delirious moment I thought perhaps it hadn't. But Betelgeuse turned to me, my elbow clasped tight in his grasp and shot me a rather lewd smile, his crushed velvet suit gone black this time and a malice around the eyes that I hadn't noticed before.
Ghosts can look any way they please once they've had some time to practice it. They can make themselves ghoulish or monstrous or divinely beautiful. Betelgeuse had always preferred to be disgusting. He seemed to delight in the discomfort it brought others, and I'd never known what he might have looked like before he died, but for a moment I had a glimpse. The grin he shot me was positively disarming, his hair not quite so wild for a moment, the mold gone, the dark circles round his eyes paled. But it only lasted the length between blinks and then he was his old self and I became aware he'd just slipped the ring on my finger and that we'd already murmured, "I do".
"It's Showtime."
