*** I am seeking a BETA READER. The faster I find one, the faster I'll post! All chapters are being written on google docs so that changes can be instantaneous. It is 5/29/2018 and I will be starting Chapter 6 today. Kindred spirit, are you out there?!***
Chapter One Author's Notes
Hi everyone! If there is an "everyone". So, although I read a lot of fan fiction – a rather unhealthy amount if I do say so myself – this is only my second attempt at writing a fanfic. My first is a Naruto fic that I've yet to finish because I had a baby and, in that time, my muse left me and I haven't revisited it. However, I think this one will be different.
I am a huge fan of Beetlejuice the film and I was a big fan of the cartoon when I was a kid. I much prefer the film, to be honest. I have read the original screenplay and I've watched the film "167 times and it keeps getting funnier every single time I see it," so am I qualified to write a sequel? Probably not, but I'm gonna anyway!
::maniacal laugh::
I will try my damnedest to make sure this reads well. Spelling, grammar, plot points, dialogue, etc… will be checked.
All that being said, I'd also like to mention that I will not dive too deeply into explaining why things are the way they are in the story because I feel that over explaining removes the audience from the story. However, in my author's notes and post-notes I will explain my reasonings.
There are many things that other authors try to explain within the story and I just feel like it leaves room for too many plot holes. Why? Because there where things done or not done in the film that contradict each other. The most famous being that Adam and Barbara should be dripping wet the entire movie but aren't because you can't have your actors catching their actual deaths on set.
So, once again, I will reserve most of those kinds of explanations to my notes with references to the film so that we're on the same page. I will be ignoring the cartoon with the exception of character names and maybe some more easter eggs. I will also be ignoring early drafts of the screenplay because apparently Betelgeuse died from a botched self-hanging. He has no marks on his neck, so POOF, it's not making it in this fic. I've got my own ideas that I hope you'll like.
If I can't convince you of a certain thing, you are welcome to call me out, but don't be an a-hole.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm making no money off this. It makes me sad.
Story Direction Disclaimer: Mature, people. It will be rated M for language, violence, and sexy stuff. This is Beetlejuice and I plan to stick to his film personality. Ultimately, there will be a Lydia & Betelgeuse pairing. My intention is for it to be a slow burn with an actual story, not just focusing on them hooking up.
I'll be using the ages of the actors. Lydia was 16 (you have no idea how ecstatic I was to find out that Winona and I have the same birthday, Oct 29). Betelgeuse was 37 at the time of his death. No underage poo-poo-caca as this takes place 6 years after the film. Nothing explicit as it's against the rules, HOWEVER, I might post explicit parts of chapters somewhere else for those of you interested in more naughty descriptions.
Ever since I was a little girl, I had imagined that Beetlejuice 2 would bring Lydia to the Neitherworld like in the cartoon. The only way that I've always thought for that to be possible is if Lydia dies or some kind of astral projection is involved. A living body cannot enter the land of the dead. That's just me and I'm sticking to it. So, I decided that unintended astral projection would be the way to go. Then the movie Monkeybone came out and ruined all of my dreams. But this is fan fiction and I can do whatever I want. So, if you've seen Monkeybone, you'll see some similarities. I'll try my best to stay clear of too many similarities.
"So! Without further delay…"
Chapter One – Home
Connecticut, 1994.
Bored. So-so-so bored.
Lydia thumped her head against the glass. With her temple pressed against the cool window in the back seat of the taxi, she let her eyes follow a small drop of rain roll down the window and watched it merge with another and another until it was out of sight, which is when her eyes would dart upwards again in search for another drop of rain. Some followed the same patterns as the ones before them and still others seemed to purposefully and suddenly change direction as if to escape her surveillance.
She was trying desperately to ignore the driver's off-key harmony attempt over the equally displeasing sound of Boyz II Men's 'I'll Make Love to You' currently playing on the radio.
Torture. Complete and utter torture. For the love of fuck. Shut. Up.
Her sanity would seemingly remain intact. The song had ended. She silently praised whatever goddess she was on good terms with for the brief reprieve. She knew it wouldn't last. That was the fourth time the song had come on.
The driver briefly looked at her through the rear-view mirror as he changed the station.
"Great song, huh?"
Lydia's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline as she managed to feign a smile.
"Mhm."
She focused again on the rain. The rain was a nice relief from the hot summer days of late in New York City, where Lydia's 4th year of college was a great success for her studies but a complete failure for her social life. Again.
Well, maybe not a complete failure, she thought, as she started to count on one hand the few acquaintances she hung out with occasionally.
Yep, definitely better than last year.
Although they always introduced her to others as, 'hey this is my friend… [Insert nickname here]' she wasn't that close to the tight knit group of art nerds that just refused to call her by her name. Lyddy, Lyd, and even just plain L were just a few nicknames they experimented with.
Chris, the only one of the guys in the group she could have imagined herself matched up with was the only one who called her by her name - once. His first words to her echoed in her mind now,
"Lydia, huh, that's my nana's name." Lydia rolled her eyes remembering the encounter.
The one guy I find attractive and I remind him of his "nana."
Of course, no one called him Chris. No, outside of her dark imaginings, she called him Cooper. Just like everyone else did.
It would just be too weird to call him Chris now. Right?
"Chris," she whispered as her eyes briefly closed.
Eventually, though, it was her last name that became the favorite of the group. "Deetz! Hey, Deetz. Yo, Deeeetz." At least they called her something. Almost her entire college career went by without talking to another student other than her roommate, – which is another story - and the occasional tap on the shoulder in class followed by "what did the professor just say?"
It was Annabel, dubbed Bell, who approached her first in the campus darkroom.
"Nice. Dark and melancholy. I like it. I'm Bell."
"Thanks. Lydia Deetz."
"My friends and I are going to this new gallery that opened – Lens Flare. I think the show might be your style. If you wanna join, just meet us out in the parking lot. You can't miss us, four geeks and a guitar." Chris being the guitar, of course.
A fine-looking guitar too. Ugh, since when do I use the word "fine"?
Bell was the one she was closest to if you could even call it that. It wasn't them though. It was Lydia that found it hard to open up and find things to talk about. They thought she was mysterious, which is probably why they absorbed her into their group in the first place.
Even though she had been born in New York City and had lived there most of her life, it was obvious that her time in Connecticut had severed her from the culture.
Plus, Lydia was the only one in the group whose immediate family was out of state, so when asked about how things were like "back home," she had a hard time making life sound remotely exciting in Winter River without mentioning the fact that her best friends where a couple of ghosts squatting in their house and that six years ago she nearly married a poltergeist.
Lydia shuddered at the memory.
That was one hell of a close call.
She hadn't thought about it much, maybe even at all, in the past few years. Mostly because she had moved out and was determined to take as many classes as possible while working in the campus gallery. She hadn't even gone back home for Christmas break last year, instead, her father and stepmother had come down to New York to spend the holidays with her.
Not really. More like spent it with ol' chums and 'potential agents.'
It may have been a memory that she could have passed off as a bad dream were it not for the daily reminder in that house that ghosts do exist and that they saved her from her fate of being hitched to Betel –
Nope. Don't even think his name.
Not that thinking his name would do anything. She would have to say his name out loud three times for the worst to happen. But she couldn't help wondering if thinking his name sent some kind of signal to him in the afterlife. Knowing him, he'd probably think she missed him or something.
A brief image of him being swallowed by a sandworm made her flinch. It always did.
"Ugh." The sound of disgust was audible, which snapped her out of her thoughts just as the taxi was passing under the covered bridge.
The slight bumpiness always made her very wary. It was, after all, the place where Adam and Barbara Maitland, her ghost friends, had died.
Adam and Barbara, she missed them the most. They were like an awesome aunt and uncle.
No, second parents.
Even if they were dead, at least they were sane. While her stepmother, Delia, was the no nonsense and eccentric type, Barbara was the kind and gentle type that always listened to Lydia when she needed a motherly figure to talk to. And while her father, Charles, had a "hands off" approach to raising Lydia, Adam filled the gap with a slightly more strict approach making sure Lydia did well in school and gave Lydia confidence to excel in everything she did. The four of them were the oddest combo, but it worked.
Once the "misunderstanding" six years ago had been worked out, they all really did live harmoniously – kind of. It was never boring, that's for sure.
The anniversary of the almost exorcism/wedding was the only day that was sort of awkward. Not because they held any grudges towards one another but because she knew it was on everyone's mind and that they were trying their hardest not to mention anything that could bring up the topic.
Except Delia. She could give three shits; the thought made her smile.
She knew it was because they didn't want to upset her. Lydia had only been 16 after all and any other 16-year-old would have been traumatized. Although Lydia had been shaken, it wasn't for the reason they all assumed. The only thing that made her stomach turn more than the thought of being married to… him… was remembering the way Adam and Barbara had looked at her as they wasted away before her eyes.
Taking a sharp inhale, Lydia shook the image from her mind.
The rain had stopped but a blanket of grey still covered the sky and the little rain drops on her window had all but vanished, revealing the eerie looking house she hadn't realized until now that she had missed so much. She was home. And just in time too… the radio host was already announcing his threat.
"Coming up next, Boyz II Men's number-one hit single… "I'll Make love to you!"
Somewhere intangible and unperceivable to the living, there is a place where the dead… wait. It is an ageless place that has been given many names over the course of time. A place that gradually takes the shape of what the collective souls bring with them. Yes, their memories of their once vibrant lives make ripples into their afterlives as well. And so, it would make sense that a room, a simple waiting room, was called forth from the aether for the collective souls to, well, wait in.
Bored. So… so… so… fucking bored.
He'd been there for ages it seemed, but he knew it was only 6 years.
Six years, four months, two weeks, three days.
He always made sure to keep track. He needed to keep up with the times. Stay relevant. It was more important to him than his own devious shenanigans.
And that's pretty damn important.
Presumably, the higher-ups at the time thought that by confining him to a grave that it would make him "come around". That was obviously not the case.
Well, at least I'm out of that pit. Thanks losers.
The Maitland's never put him back in. He mentally thanked them and snickered, which made everyone in the room uneasy. The poltergeist had been too quiet for too long, resting his now normal sized head on a cushion behind him with his hat pulled over his closed eyes. They were expecting something. Who knew what it would be, but they knew it'd be terrifying.
He wasn't sure why he wasn't already back in solitary. Surely, Juno had told them they had to put him back. But here he was in the waiting room instead.
Oh, Juno… He thought about how she'd receive him after all these years.
Then again, no one in the afterlife felt time go by the way he did. Maybe she wouldn't be phased, which he didn't want to admit bothered him way too much.
Instead he replayed his recent dealings with the land of the living. Again. His last job was almost his ticket to freedom. Temporary freedom, but freedom nonetheless. He had almost succeeded.
He would try again and again for all eternity if that's what it took. What else was there to do?
Servitude?Move on? He snorted aloud, which made the other souls flinch.
Hell-fuck-no.
The reception window was forced open revealing Miss Argentina. She stared at the poltergeist a moment and narrowed her eyes before yelling:
"Now serving 9,998,383,750,000… Betelgeuse!"
Eyes still closed, the poltergeist grinned wickedly as his number was called. Without warning, Betelgeuse launched himself out of his seat, scaring the newbie deadski's.
"See ya, deadbeats!" He exclaimed through clenched teeth and a menacing grin.
With a salute, he whirled around, gave Miss Argentina a wink and moonwalked towards Juno's office.
As soon as the door slammed shut, there was a rumble that reverberated throughout the room. The new souls waited apprehensively…
…
…
They looked at one another as relieved chuckles and murmuring filled the air, but sadly it was short-lived.
A resounding CRACK resonated in the room and then a deluge of insects and business cards fell from the ceiling making everyone scramble like their afterlives depended on it.
And in the distance, a wild cackle could be heard echoing throughout the hall.
Chapter One Post Notes:
So, what did you guys think? Please leave comments, it makes me feel all gooey inside and makes me want to work faster.
As promised, here are my universe explanations:
The Astral Plane, Neitherworld, Netherworld, Purgatory, Limbo, whatever you want to call it is where souls wait. What do they wait for? They wait for their minds to wrap around the idea that their lives are over and there's no going back. Each soul has their own reason for being there, but essentially, it's because they're still holding on to the past. The ultimate goal is for them to move on. Who ends up there? People who had traumatic deaths, unfinished business and suicides.
I will be sticking to the idea in the film that the dead will usually look the way they looked when they died. So, let's go over that for a moment. Things we know:
Ghosts can change their physical appearance including wardrobe, but usually only for a short time.
Except Betelgeuse who wears whatever he wants for as long as he wants. His entire wardrobe throughout the film is not from his presumed era which would be the 1300's
At 59 minutes of the film, Betelgeuse has NO moss or dark circles. He's shrouded in a bit of darkness, but if you look closely, it's the most normal he appears in the film.
There are freaking skeletons working as civil servants.
Most of the time, Betelgeuse is white AF, covered in moss and he does not have sunken eyes in the film. He has dark circles around his eyes. Originally wrote his eyes as green but MK's eyes are blue and I want to stick with movie Beej. So, eyes have been changed to blue. Blonde gross hair covered in moss. Even his clothes are covered in moss.