Author's Note: I always seem to stick in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind to listen to while I write and sometimes it feels like the soundtrack is what is inspiring me. Maybe it is. I've started a new story that isn't any fandom I've written for before. Why? I'm crazy, didn't you know that about me yet? Also, I don't want you to get spoiled and expect quick updates like this all the time. Although I am getting more excited about writing again, so there should not be a long wait like there was between Chapter Six and Seven. Thank you for the lovely reviews! Enjoy!

Chapter Eight

Patch looked at the door and grinned as a disheveled Jack came out.

"Took your time, huh? Not that I blame you. Any man knows how difficult it can be to leave what you just did." Patting him on the back, Patch smiled and told him, "It won't be very long before you come back to her. I'll make sure of it."

"Just tell me where we're going." Jack said, lighting a fag and looking up at the grey sky.

"Uh, right. Well I'm sure I mentioned the Welcome Committee already, we were actually supposed to see them on Day One so that you could have your book... no matter. They get late arrivals all the time."

Patch led them down the street and Jack lit one cigarette after another. Might as well be smoking three at once, huh? He though bitterly.

"Alright, we'll have to call a cab from here. I don't really think that will be one of your job options, considering how you died." Patch tried to joke but Jack just stared at him.

Climbing into the green car, Jack was tempted to tell the driver to floor it and watch Patch get left behind in the dust, but he stopped himself and watched the other man get in after him.

"What do you mean about getting a job? I thought a perk in the After Life was sleeping in and eating and drinking and all that." Jack said, wondering what he had gotten mixed into. If they expected him to do an eight to five in Death, well they could all shove that dream up their asses.

"Only certain people get jobs. Civil servants I guess you can call them. It's random, I swear, but that's just the way it is." Patch told him.

"Oh yeah, random. Of course it is." Jack shook his head and stared out the window as they passed horrible houses. "Could I be a rock star?" Jack asked eagerly. That wouldn't be so bad, right?

Patch just gave him a small smile and said, "We'll see."

The rest of the drive they sat in silence and Jack started to become nervous about meeting this "Welcome Committee."

The cab was slowing down and Jack looked around for some official looking building, but all he could see was what looked like a dumpy old pizza place.

"What the hell Patch?" Jack asked, rolling down his window.

"Just a pit stop, Jack. Come on."

Scowling, Jack got out of the cab and had barely closed his door before it sped off.

"I thought this was a pit stop." Jack said, jogging to catch up with Patch who was already knocking on the door. "Why don't you just go in?"

Patch looked at Jack and shook his head. "I'm a patient guy Jack, but just shut up for a second will ya?"

Jack glared at Patch but before he could say something snotty the door swung open and he was staring at the massive chest of a very tall, large person.

Jack leaned his head back to see if there was a head on top of the chest-mountain and he saw a large bald head surrounded by smoke coming from a very nasty looking cigar.

"What's the deal Patch?" The stranger asked in a deep voice.

"Let me in, Vincent, and I'll tell you." Patch said, his creepy grin was gone and Jack looked back and forth between the two men.

"Is this the kid?" Vincent asked and Jack almost felt the need to defend his manliness by stepping up, but a second glance at Vincent's bulging muscles put an end to that ridiculous thought.

"Yeah it's him, stop fucking around man and let us in." Patch said, growing irritated. Jack looked at Patch with a confused look on his face, this wasn't cheery Patch. He took me to meet his friends, they're probably all more crazy than him!

Vincent seemed to be thinking it over for a bit before he finally stepped aside and Patch led the way in.

"What kind of pizza place is this?" Jack hissed to Patch.

"Only the best would do for Sheldon." Vincent replied instead with a rather smug look on his face.

"Is that you're girlfriend?" Jack asked, making small talk though not exactly paying attention.

"You better shut your fucking mouth before I pull it off!" Vincent shouted and Jack immediately realized what he had said. After a beat, Vincent added a well deserved, "Fucker!" and Jack followed them the rest of the way with his head down.

At least on the way through the deserted kitchens Jack got a view of the grimy floor and he was able to pass the short time counting the grease stains.

Their walk came to a stop and Jack tried to see past Patch, wondering where they were going.

They were facing a crummy looking door and Vincent knocked what was probably some secret code knock all the while glaring at Jack.

A small door slid open and Jack saw a pair of wide eyes before it slid shut again.

Behind the door were voices and Jack couldn't tell what they were saying but it sounded like there were at least two people.

Then the door opened and the first thing Jack noticed was who opened it for them. Gulping, he tried not to let his eyes travel. He'd seen the movies, she was probably the "boss's" special lady, then he'd be caught looking her up and down and be thrown out a window of a seven floor building.

Which was why Jack found himself studying the grease stains on the floor again.

"Paaaaatch." Jack looked up when he heard the voice. All he could think to describe it was that it sounded oily.

"Good afternoon Sheldon." Patch replied, taking a single step into the room and removing his hat.

"Did you do good for me Patch?" Sheldon's voice asked and Jack almost shuddered. He tried to see over Patch's shoulder what the owner of that disgusting, wheezing voice might look like but Patch was too tall.

"Oh, you'll find I did well enough." Patch said and Jack could tell even as he faced his back, that he was grinning that large Cheshire Cat grin of his.

"I don't want 'well enough' Patch. I want perfect, I want great. I want it now." Jack was starting to get nervous, though he tried to remind himself that he was already dead and it wasn't like he should really be afraid of these people. What could they do to him?

Jack looked around the room, what he could see of it anyway, but all he could see were dirty walls and a dusty ceiling fan that was broken with pieces hanging on just barely. On the back wall, above where he thought Sheldon's voice was coming from, he could make out a cracked picture frame and the edge of some sort of photograph, but he couldn't see what it was of.

His eyes roamed back to the woman who had opened the door for them. She was still hanging on the door and she had been watching him. Now she just stared back at him and for a moment the nervous feeling in him lessened.

"Of course not, Sheldon. I'm just saying for what I was offered - you'll have to make the final decision of course." Patch said, raising his hands defensively.

"Of course I will." Sheldon spoke in a disgusted tone. "This better not be a waste of my time."

"It won't be." Patch assured him.

"Good." There was a silence that was filled only by a disgusting smacking noise. "Let me see him then."

Patch turned to Jack and pulled him forward by the elbow. If Jack hadn't just laid eyes on possibly one of the most disgusting people he had ever seen, he probably would have been pissed. As it was, though, he was a little distracted.


Lydia sat in the chair Betel had thrown her into, wiping at her tears furiously. What did I expect?

Oh I know what I expected. I imagined in my little fantasy world that after several beatings he would succumb and send me on back home and tell me what he did to Adam and Barbara...

She looked over her shoulder at the door, half hoping he'd come back and get all melodramatic and half hoping everything around her would melt away and be the nightmare she wished it was.

Her gaze would not stay clear, she had started crying and knew there would be no stopping her for a while.

Standing up, she felt and heard her stomach growl but she ignored it. It would be a long time before she left this room so she walked to the door and locked it.

Lydia stood staring at the door knob, she didn't know what to do.

I have to find Adam and Barbara.

I have to go back to my parents.

...I have to find where to start.

She sat back down and faced Betel Geuse's stack of books once again and looked down at the one she still gripped tightly in her hand.

She placed it in her lap and read the title out loud, "Handbook for Marriage Between the Living and the Deceased."

She ran her bloody hand along the cover that was so much like the handbook of Adam and Barbara's she had read.

Why did he keep this from me? I should have been able to read it too.

The bastard.

Pausing, she inspected her hand that had been hurt so long ago and never properly cared for. She was starting to feel disgusted with herself for how gross she felt.

Holding the book to her chest, she knew she needed to hide this handbook if she wanted to read it later. Looking around the rather empty room, Lydia walked over to the bed. Getting down to her hands and knees, she peered underneath and found many boxes. Lydia tried to push them away but her hand was useless when she wasn't fueled with rage.

So she backed up onto her back and placed her bare feet on the box and pushed. It moved, slowly. A part of her was curious about the boxes, but at the same time she didn't want to know. Not at the moment.

Scooting under the bed a bit, Lydia pushed on the mattress so separate it from the boards that held it up and that's where she hid her book.

Betel Geuse may still find out she had it when it turned up missing, but at least it would drive him crazy when he could not find it.

A crash downstairs startled her and Lydia stopped herself from rushing to see what happened. She did not care and after seeing what Betel Geuse had made of her parents home she had a good idea what the crashing was.

But I don't just want to hide up here either. I feel disgusting. I need to shower.

Lydia stayed where she was on the floor, however, and closed her eyes just listening to the crashing in the house. There was no shouting, she heard no obscenities or noises of rage. Only crashing.

After a while the house was silent, but Lydia had no idea how much time had passed. It felt like she had been sitting on that dirty floor for hours.

Then she heard the stomping and Lydia held on to her knees tighter, watching the door fearfully, willing the footsteps to go away again.

They only came closer and she scooted back wards, hoping she could sink into the wall.

The doorknob wiggled but it stayed locked. Someone pounded once on the door but Lydia did not answer.


Betel stormed towards the stairs but he stopped with one hand on the railing and looked down at Kise. Sitting on his stolen couch. With it's questionable stains and bizarre looking holes.

Watching his stolen television, with the shaky picture that came in black and white though it hardly mattered when all you had were one or two stations to watch.

He took his hand from the cracked railing and looked at the peeling paint and cracked wood in disgust. Dust was on his hand and he tried to rub it clean on his dirty pants.

When has a little dirt ever bothered you before, Geuse?

Betel Geuse began his descent of the stairs, all the while taking in every crappy aspect of his new home he had not noticed before.

Standing next to the couch Kise sat in, he watched the television program with his arms crossed. Lydia's place at least had that comedy station. What did he have? Neitherworld soaps and reality shows.

"Hey man." Kise muttered, obviously entranced by Nights in our Death.

Six hundred years. More than that. And this is the best I can do?

Tilting his head at the television, Betel Geuse stalked towards it and in one fluid motion unfolded his arms and pushed it off it's stand.

"Whoa, boss, what're you doing?" Kise asked, trying not to get pissed.

Betel Geuse didn't answer and instead began to tear the room apart around Kise who had backed away towards the stairs. That look was on Betel's face again, but he was not shouting. It freaked Kise right the fuck out and he just tried to stay out of the way as Betel turned the room into a disaster area.

He inched into where the kitchen was and found a new past time in sipping beer.

Betel Geuse hardly noticed him leave, but as the dust settled and he rested his aching arms he realized he was alone. Again.

He turned his face towards the stairs and the upstairs hallway, his gaze resting on his bedroom door.

Lydia was behind those doors in that room, that room that had belonged to the tubby pervert. Only a few hours he had watched her sleep in that bed, a disgusting bed he should have never let her lay in.

I'll find a better house. In a nice neighborhood. No whore houses, no shitty furniture. This time I'll steal a better one.

At the moment, he couldn't stand the thought of her keeping herself in that room of all places. The room he had taken those whores to. The room he had no idea what had been done in it with the last owner of the house.

Pounding up the stairs in a hurry, Betel Geuse was mildly aware of the noise he was making but he didn't care. He could make her use the couch or a guest bedroom or... no. The more he thought of it every thing in the house was tainted and the more he remembered how she looked with tears streaming down her cheeks the more he wanted to give her some place better.

It's just for my own peace of mind. I don't want to deal with any more of her injuries. That's all.

He tried to go in to tell her all this, but the door would not open. No matter how much he tried to turn the door knob, it would not budge.

Feeling as though he might explode with all the rage starting to build in him again, Betel pounded his aching fist on the door. With his hand still around the door knob and his fist still against the splintering wood of the door, he rested in that position for a few minutes before he turned away.

Now he rested leaning on the railing and looking down at the mess he had made of the living room.

Why did I do that? Betel Geuse began to question himself but before he could wonder any more at his impulsive decisions, he heard a loud cracking noise.

Before he could process that the noise was connected to the railing moving beneath his hands, it was too late.

He was already falling.


That hoarse scream had definitely come from Betel Geuse and it had been followed by a crash, but it wasn't the usual angry sound she heard from him.

Did someone break in? Is that what is happening? She tip toed to the door and put her ear to it, hoping to be able to hear something.

For the longest time there was only silence but finally she heard the muffled voice of someone. It sounded like Kise.

Kise knew where her stuff was, she needed to speak with him.

Opening the door slowly, Lydia poked her head out and noticed the large gap of railing that was missing just across from her. She walked towards it carefully and peered down.

Sprawled on the floor in a pile of dust and wood, was an unconscious Betel Geuse. He looks rather peaceful when he's sleeping. Or knocked out. Whatever. And standing a few feet away from him was a worried looking Kise. Lydia rolled her eyes and descended the stairs.

"Kise, could you..." she began but she had looked at Betel Geuse again. Seeing him looking so weak had made her pause.

"Yeah boss's wife?" he asked, turning away from Betel looking very hopeful. He must think I'm going to tell on him - did he do this? I really wouldn't think so.

She looked back to Kise and tried to stop thinking of Betel kneeling beside her, holding her injured hand in his warm ones.

"Just take him upstairs to his bed or something." Lydia muttered, though a part of her wanted to just start kicking Betel while he was down.

Of course then she began to think how she had been woken up in that bed - but that wasn't where she had fallen asleep. She had fallen asleep on the cold hard floor of the attic.

Someone had moved her to that soft bed.

Lydia watched Kise use his powers to take Betel Geuse upstairs. Watching them, she began to wonder why Betel had not used his powers on her whenever he would try to carry her somewhere or when she would try to injure him.

Looking down at her hands she remembered why she had originally left the room.

"Kise!" She called out and a moment later he appeared back at the top of the stairs.

"Yeah?" He asked, his tone suggesting he was a little irritated but Lydia ignored it.

"Where did you put my stuff?" She asked and Kise told her in the closet.

A while later, Lydia had her things hauled up to the room Betel Geuse was laying in and took all her "smell good things" as Betel called them into the bathroom that was actually a little clean looking.

It's not like Betel uses the shower part. What did I expect?

She stripped and stepped under the warm water, washing away the past few days.


Charles and Delia had shouted themselves hoarse, first at the men kidnapping their daughter and then at each other for being unable to stop them.

When all they heard was silence their worry grew, Charles pounded on the door but with his back Delia knew there was not much he could do.

She nudged him out of the way with her latest sculpture - a rather heavy abstract thing Charles never understood but as Delia brought it down on the door knob again and again, he blessed it.

The knob broke off and the lock was broken. Pulling the door open, the couple ran down the stairs almost tripping over each other.

Delia gave a soft gasp when she saw the state those monsters had left her house in, but she knew there were far more important things. Such as finding her step daughter and then showing those two men what happens when you mess with Delia Deetz's family of course.

"Where did they go? There was no car, they couldn't have dragged her kicking and screaming down town." Charles said, grabbing his hair. "Why aren't Adam and Barbara here?"

Delia ran to the phone and tried to dial for the police but the line was dead. She had forgotten.

"We need to drive into town and tell the police, maybe someone saw something, this town is full of nosy gossipers. Someone is bound to have been staring out there binoculars at some point in the last few days." Delia rambled on, looking for her keys to her vehicle.

"We'll take my car." Charles said when he saw how desperately she looked around. Delia followed him in a worried silence and they left their seemingly cursed house.


Betel Geuse had not packed any of Lydia's towels and there were only hand towels in his bathroom. Those only got her so far. It had been a rough battle but at last she was dressed and was towel drying her hair with the tiny things.

Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, Lydia looked down at the sleeping menace. For a moment she had the urge to walk over to him and tie her towel around his neck, but she knew it would not be so easy to get rid of him.

She walked over to the edge of the bed and remembered how eagerly he had taken her to this room. Didn't he realize it wasn't me?

He probably didn't care who I was. As long as I was willing.

For a moment longer she stood there watching him, and wondered with a hopeful smile if maybe he had gone into a coma. Then she could easily sneak out when Kise eventually passed out from his drinking and try to find the ones in charge.

Tossing the towel in the bathroom, Lydia got down on the floor once again and scooted under the bed to find her hidden book. There wasn't much light under there so she took the candle from the bedside table and brought it under the bed with her to read.

At least now, should Betel wake up, she would know and still be hidden from him. I'm the human under the monster's bed.

Cracking the book open, she began to read all she needed to know about marrying the deceased.


The story about Sheldon's death was a mystery to everyone but him, but many theories had risen amongst his employees. Some claimed Sheldon had been tortured by Nazi's in their experimentations on open brain surgery.

Others believed it was a camping trip gone wrong when bears or wolves broke into his tent and tried to maul off his face.

Still, some believed it was a much darker secret than any other those. Something really terrible, it had to be to make Sheldon that grotesque.

Jack didn't know any of these theories or stories, all he knew was that this man with all these Death Deformities was staring at him with a look on his face that was freaking him the fuck out. He preferred Patch over this creep any day.

"A few gashes on his chest. A little... disappointing. The man said, rubbing his chin.

"They give me character." Jack told him.

"I don't remember asking you a damn thing." Sheldon said, raising behind his desk and Patch shot Jack a dirty look.

"I don't remember giving a fuck what you ask." Jack replied, not about to be treated like shit. Not in his damn After Life.

Patch was looking at Jack with wide eyes and Jack turned to leave, but the pretty woman had closed the door with a small smirk on her face.

"Jaaaaack." Sheldon whispered and it made Jack's skin crawl. "Jaaaack" The voice said again and he had the distinct feeling that Sheldon was standing right behind him, whispering into his ear.

"Don't have a little fit Jack. It's so... unbecoming of you." It was the voice of a woman and Jack met her gaze, but he knew she couldn't have been the one who said that.

I don't remember anyone telling him my name.

I must be in a coma and this is all some weird fucked up dream.

That has to be what this is.

Please be what this is.

"What do you want?" Jack asked, staring at the woman before him. "I'm about to leave if you fuck heads don't stop shitting around with me."

"We want you to join us of course!" Sheldon said and Jack turned around to face him again.

"I don't have much experience in the food business." Jack muttered and Sheldon threw his head back and laughed. It was a horrible gurgling noise that made Jack feel sick.

Finally growing serious, Sheldon looked at Jack with his good eye. "You could get into trouble with that mouth of yours... I'm going to let Vincent show you around. I was in the middle of something before the two of you arrived." Sheldon said and Vincent led a confused looking Jack into the kitchens again.

Patch had been about to come to but Sheldon's stopped him. "Not you Patch." He said, his tone had grown very cold. "Close the door behind you Vincent."

Jack watched Patch take a seat before the door was shut and Vincent was looking at him in a way that made him nervous.

"Time to meet the Welcome Committee." Vincent told him and he opened a door behind Jack. What Jack had thought had been a closet was actually stairs leading to the cellar.

"After you, princess." Vincent said with a chuckle and pushed Jack forward. Jack stumbled only a bit and sent the man a glare over his shoulder before descending down the stairs.

I'm fearless. Fear doesn't exist here. These people are just dweebs who think it's cool to play gansta in pizza places.

Jack began to hear voices the closer he got to the bottom of the stairs and he repeated that thought in his head. Fearless. That's me.


Betel Geuse's head was killing him. He had no idea how long he had been knocked out, but a glance outside his bedroom window showed it was nighttime.

Stretching out, he let out a groan and tried to urge himself to get up and go do things he still needed to do.

I never even had fun with Adam and Barbara.

My little wife is ruining all my fun revenge plans.

Thinking about his wife, though, reminded him of his little fit he just had in destroying the living room. It reminded him that he had been planning on finding a nicer house to steal instead of this dump.

...It reminded him that he had fallen into the living room and that was where he should have woken up. Not this filthy bed.

Betel sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed but he had to pause as his head began to spin.

Don't you just hate it when that happens?

Rubbing his temples, Betel finally felt he could stand up all the way and began to walk to the door but paused again. He could have sworn he heard someone let out a puff of air.

Not something you generally heard amongst the dead.

The smell of smoke was in the air and Betel turned slowly back around, facing where he knew the sound had come from.

There's a Lydia under my bed. He thought and walked over to the bed.

Crouching down, Betel peered under the bed and said "Gotcha!" Though, his head began to spin again and he knew it was a mistake.

But he had found more than just Lydia. He had intended on letting her be a freak and be under the bed all she damn well pleased, but he recognized that book she was clutching to her chest.

With a frown, he reached under the bed and pulled a squealing and kicking Lydia out from under the bed.

Just like old times!

"How much of this did you read?" He demanded.

"It belongs to me too I can read it all I want!" Lydia told him.

Betel tried to calm himself, remembering how Lydia had cried only hours earlier about the way he treated her and he did not want a repeat of that.

"Alright. I just want to know how much you read. That's all." Betel bit out through clenched teeth and Lydia tried not to smirk.

"I barely got through the first page. It's probably the most boring book I've ever read." Lydia told him and Betel let go of her arms.

I should have known she'd be too dumb to understand it. What the hell have I been so worried about?

Lydia put the book into his hands. "Here, you can have it back. I'd rather read a magazine over that any day!" She told him with a smile and left the room.

Betel Geuse looked after her in confusion.

How long was I asleep?

As soon as Lydia left the room the smile turned into an evil one. It was so easy to make Betel believe things that weren't true. Too easy and it could come in use.

Especially after reading that book and all she had learned.

No wonder he's been so useless. I can't believe he lost all his powers getting married to me! That must have been why he's so pissed.

Lydia covered her mouth with her hands and leaned against the wall. She couldn't let him hear her giggling.

Now he knows he can't get laid without risking me kicking the shit out of him for all eternity.

Unless I made him believe...

No, no what am I thinking? That would mean I would have to actually... ewwww...

Lydia glanced at the door and took a step away from it as if to convince herself that was the better idea.

But just once I would have to do it, just once and then forever I would have his powers.

What do I have to lose?

Other than my dignity.

I could save Adam and Barbara if I did it.

Would they want me to do it this way?

They wouldn't have to know.

Lydia slid down the wall and put her head into her hands, getting a head ache from how hard she tackled with her conscious.

The door opened of Betel's bedroom and it startled Lydia into jumping up. Betel just gave her an odd look before walking past her.

"Kise! Where the hell are you!?" Betel shouted.

"I'm right here boss!" Kise called from the kitchen. "What d'ya need?"

"Lydia, pack your shit. We're goin' house huntin'." Betel told her and Lydia almost got angry at getting bossed around but then she thought of her little secret and it put her into a much better mood.

"Right away honey." Lydia responded with a smile and skipped back into his bedroom to get her things.

"Did your wife hit her head or something again?" Kise asked, from where he stood in the door way and Betel just shrugged.