Holy shit guys, its an update

Holy shit guys, its an update? Yup.

Make SURE you re-read at least chapters 7-10. I rewrote them… mostly the same things happen for vastly different reasons.

I'm hoping Lyds and Beej are more in character now.

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Lydia stood up, unable to stand staring at the rotting crowd. It was a little unnerving to realize that people were pretty much exactly the same after they died. This particular batch had a few more interesting stories (mostly about the horrible ways they had died), but overall the guys were the same jerky assholes she'd been dealing with throughout all of high school as well as part of college and the women were the same shrill self indulgent bitches.

"I'm… uh, I'm gunna walk around a bit."

Betelgeuse, she realized belatedly, was chatting up a cute little redhead, who from all appearances looked like she'd just died yesterday. Her face was still a bit rosy and she was looking fairly awkward. The awkwardness was probably mostly due to dodging Betelgeuse's groping hands and still trying to maintain some semblance of a conversation.

Lydia scowled and stormed off into the bowels of the house. She eventually found a staircase and made her way up it, trying to figure out her feelings for the netherworld she had dreamed so much about. Adam and Barbara couldn't even come here if they wanted, and her sweet ghostly parents would have never wanted to in a million years.

She smiled at the site of a doorway that led to a room which, miraculously, didn't appear to have any one in it. She made her way to the dingy tattered bed and sat down, inspecting her surroundings. Even for the netherworld the room looked a bit on the messy side. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the very faint outline of a small, very old man sitting at a desk.

She walked over to inspect what he was doing, which turned out to be writing a letter. It was nearly impossible to read his scratchy handwriting, but it appeared to be made out to his daughter, who he was trying to convince his house was haunted.

Betelgeuse floated into the room, irritated by Lydia's disappearance in the kitchen. He snuck up behind her and curled his arms around her waist, burying his nose in her dark hair. "Hey, babes, running from me?"

Stifling a small shriek, Lydia tried to wriggle out of his grip. "Beej!" The irritating poltergeist cackled and responded by sinking his hands a little lower. Lydia didn't even bother to stifle her scream this time and Betelgeuse floated away, casually laughing.

Tossing him a halfhearted glare, Lydia returned her attention to the old man. "Who is he?" The man hadn't even flinched at her screams, it was clear he couldn't see her.

"Old guy owns the place. Crazy as shit, I tell you. Thinks his house is haunted." Betelgeuse grinned impishly at the irony as Lydia sent him cool stare. "Don't worry 'bout him, he'll kick the bucket any day now and finally get to join the party."

"That's so sad… He's all alone here." An obnoxiously loud crash came from the basement of the house and the old man finally reacted. He jerked standing and stared at the door of the room. After muttering softly to himself he sat back down and continued to write, faster this time, with a sour expression on his face. "I don't really think he's going to want to join the party… He looks really unhappy."

Betelgeuse shrugged. "Who cares? Look, you wanted to see the netherworld and now all you're doing is obsessing over the -living guy-. I'll tell you what, at least he's got his life still. More'n most of us can ask for."

Lydia's mouth twisted in what might have been a morbid smile. "Not more than you could ask for."

With a shrug and a toothy grin Betelguese grabbed her hand and pulled her into him. She swatted at his chest, causing clouds of dust to billow off. "I can ask for a lot, babes. Now say my name."

With a snort, Lydia complied. She had already decided she didn't care for the netherworld, no matter how much she liked spookiness. There wasn't anything all that spooky about how the people acted, in fact, if you glossed over there horrific wounds it had been as entertaining as the frat party she'd been dragged to her freshman year.

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Eh, I feel rusty. Bah.