A/N: This is my first fanfic ever and I don't have an editor so all constructive criticism is appreciated.
Disclaimer: Most of the characters are from the Beetlejuice TV series and are the property of Nelvana, The Geffen Film Company, Tim Burton Incorporated, and Warner Bros. Television. The other characters and story are my own and intended for entertainment purposes only.
Prologue
1385
The witch was aching with weariness as she trudged down the worn path to her home. Despite all her efforts the plague had claimed two more lives that night. Their village had originally housed 112 souls, but within a month they were down to 103. If the disease continued at this rate, their village would cease to exist within the year. As the village healer, they were looking to her for answers, but she didn't have any to give. She was easing the suffering of her patients, but she had yet to find a cure. So far, she had found no connections between the infected to reveal how the disease was spreading. She felt a profound sense of inadequacy at her lack of progress. Although it was late, and she had house calls to make the following morning, she would take an hour before sleep to review her notes and spells again.
Her footsteps echoed in the night and she gradually became aware of the complete stillness and silence surrounding her. No breezes stirred the leaves of the trees. The crickets and frogs were no longer chirping in wild symphony. An overwhelming sense of apprehension swept over her. She stopped walking and stared at her surroundings in the glow of her torch. Shifting her satchel and taking her torch in her opposite hand, she unsheathed the dagger at her hip. There was definitely something out there. Casting a quick spell of protection over herself she hesitated on the path. She could head back and request that one of the men accompany her. Frowning she thought of who had been in attendance at the death bed rites. It wasn't a long walk back, but they would all have left by the time she arrived. She listened intently, but there was still nothing but silence. Clutching her dagger firmly, she made her decision and cautiously continued her trek toward home.
Her cottage came into view as she navigated the last bend in the path and she staggered at the sight before her. Tendrils of black smoke were creeping around the edges of her door and in places around her low thatched roof. Inside her home, a strange green glow illuminated her wooden shutters. The door to her stable was hanging off the hinges and her mare was missing. As she stood there considering her options, she could hear faint whispers that seemed to ride the night air. She listened intently, attempting to discern any meaning, but the sound was barely audible. The thickness of the air made the dark magic emanating from her home almost tangible. If she turned back now and requested assistance the villagers would lose their trust in her. They would most likely assume that this was the source of the plague no matter what lay inside. On the other hand, it was dangerous to confront dark magic unassisted and exhausted. Suddenly, a sharp cry rang out from inside the house and she could no longer remain immobile. Squaring her shoulders she approached the front door and shoved it open.
The inside of the cottage was chaos. A thick black fog more than a foot deep covered the floor. Its black smoky tendrils were curling up over her furniture and the walls. Books were scattered everywhere, their torn pages layered over her table top and desk. Every cabinet and chest was open with their contents spilling out. As she stepped further into her home broken glass crunched under her feet. Anxiously, she made her way toward the broken sobs and gasps coming from the kitchen. Her heart clutched as she took in the scene that greeted her there.
Her furniture had all been shoved aside and a large alchemic circle was drawn in the center of the floor. At its center was a man, the source of the eerie green glow. Wearing only thick linen trousers his bare arms showed the beginning of plague lesions. Long pale hair hung in damp clumps that blocked his face from view. Blood was flowing freely from his wrists into the center of the circle. Rather than pooling there, the blood was spreading out across the lines of the alchemic drawing. The strange whispers were loudest here, but she still couldn't grasp the meaning of the words. The man's shoulders heaved as he chanted in Latin. Slowly he raised his head to glare at her. Recognizing the man before her she gasped and retreated from the room.
Stumbling over the scattered belongings in her front room she dropped her torch which promptly extinguished. Ignoring the torch, she dropped her satchel onto the nearby table. Digging inside she removed a small vial of clear liquid. Pocketing the vial, she ran out the front door and into the stable. Inside she grabbed a bucket and headed back out to the side of her house. She dipped the bucket into the rain barrel there and set it carefully on the ground. As the ground began to tremble she dumped the contents of the vial into the bucket. With a few quick words, and a prayer to the goddess, she walked carefully back inside with her bucket of holy water.
The ground tremors increased in intensity as she entered her home. As she approached the kitchen the green light was almost blinding. The man in the center of the circle was cackling maniacally as the dark black smoke was drawing back to him. It poured into his mouth, his eyes, his ears, and his nose. The lesions were gone from his arms but blood still flowed freely from the wounds at his wrists. She did a quick survey of the room and saw that there was no circle of protection. Striding forward, she threw the bucket of water across the circle drawn on the floor. The second the water broke the first line of the circle the man emitted an ear splitting howl and collapsed to the floor.
He continued to howl and writhe as the glow subsided and the black smoke faded away. The ground tremors had stopped completely. The witch leaned heavily against the doorway shaking at the horror before her. Slowly the thickness surrounding her home subsided and the whispers in the air silenced. The man ceased his howling and whimpered from his place on the floor. Slowly the witch crossed the distance between them and knelt down before him. He looked up at her, his eyes still glowing with a green light. She sighed deeply. She had been too late. The possession wasn't complete, but it was enough to cost him his soul. He reached out and grabbed her wrist.
"Please save me," he begged her.
Save him from what? she wondered. Did he want her to save him from the plague? The plague no longer mattered. He had lost too much blood and the spell was never completed. He would die of his wounds before morning. Did he want her to save his soul? The soul he had so foolishly bartered. He released her wrist and curled in on himself, whimpering once again. She sighed and stood up. At least his foolishness had allowed her to enter the house and his circle uninhibited. She didn't want to consider what might have happened otherwise. The whimpering ceased as the man slipped into unconsciousness.
Clenching her fists, the witch walked purposefully from the room. She shook her head and cursed under her breath at the man's stupidity. Damn him and his impetuous behavior! She would need to act quickly to save his soul. She searched through the open cabinets and the contents on her floor. With only a few cursory glances she retrieved dragon's blood, frankincense, and four black candles. Placing the items down on her altar she summoned a large black stone that appeared at its center. Returning to the kitchen she looked down at the man on her floor. Bending down she collected a small vial of his blood and returned to her altar. She set the vial down to the right of the stone. Striking a match she lit each candle in turn, murmuring her thanks to the elements and the goddess. Keeping the image on the man firmly in her mind she began to chant:
"With the thread of the crimes of your own design
I bind your evil
Three times seven times.
I bind you from Behind
I bind you from Before
That you'll hurt from this deed nevermore.
I bind you from the Left
I bind you from the Right
I bind you by Day and I bind you by Night.
I bind you from Below
I bind you from Above
That you may ever know the laws of Life and Love.
I bind you with your own good conscience within
And so let this magic unfold and spin."
As she looked through the swirl of smoke wafting up from the candles she hesitated for a moment. Would this binding be enough or would it make matters worse? Unfortunately, there was no time for doubt or alternative solutions. He might have already inhaled his last breath. She shook off her errant thoughts and used her ceremonial dagger to carve his name into the stone's face. Holding out her right hand, she slipped a ring from her finger and placed it on top of the stone. With a deep breath she continued the spell:
"Goddess of darkest night
Send our troubles all to flight
Burn them in thy sacred fires
And replace them with our hearts desires!"
Plunging her dagger through the ring and into the stone, the spell was now complete. She looked down at the inscription as she finally released the tears that had been building within her:
BEETLEJUICE
