Part 1: Say My Name

The evening air was thick with the sounds of moving boxes, creaking furniture, and the general disarray that comes with settling into a new home. Lydia Deetz trudged up the stairs of the old Maitlands house, her head hung low beneath her raven-black hair. She dragged her boots across the hardwood floors, eyes scanning the clutter of Delia's ridiculous sculptures and unfinished art projects strewn across the room. It was suffocating—both the house and her life, trapped in a routine that felt increasingly disconnected since her mother passed away. And now, they had moved into this new place, a hollow shell of what her old life used to be.

Her father, Charles, stood by the window, already going on about turning the home into the "flagship model" for his planned gated community. "It'll be perfect, Lydia!" he said with a broad smile, completely oblivious to the tension radiating from his daughter. "This house is a dream, and it's going to kick off the Deetz Empire of homes. Imagine it—perfect families, perfect lives, everything organized and controlled." His voice faded into the background as Lydia wandered further, seeking any sort of escape from the overly cheery atmosphere.

Delia, Lydia's stepmother, or as she liked to call herself, life coach extraordinaire, bounced into the room, all flowing scarves and wild art supplies. "Lydia, darling, think of this as an opportunity for growth! You need to align your chakras, release all that pent-up negativity. Everything happens for a reason, even your mother's passing. It was the universe's plan, you know."

Lydia's jaw clenched. She could barely believe her father's nerve in bringing Delia into their lives, much less letting her replace her mother. Delia had only been hired to help "guide" Lydia after Emily passed away. And yet here she was, insinuating herself as part of the family, as though she could ever replace Emily.

"You're not my mom!" Lydia snapped, eyes brimming with a mix of anger and tears. She stormed out of the room before Delia could offer another self-help platitude.

Lydia fled up the stairs, heart pounding in her chest as she reached the roof. The air felt colder up here, and the wind pulled at her black skirt and striped tights as she crossed to the edge, staring out over the surrounding land. The house may have been large, the neighborhood new, but it didn't change anything. Her mother was gone. The pain lingered, gnawing at her insides, twisting her up until she felt hollow.

Mom, if you're out there… she thought, choking on her words. I don't know what to do. Nobody cares anymore. They've all moved on, but I can't. I just can't.

Tears streaked her pale cheeks as she sank down to sit on the ledge, her legs dangling off the edge, swinging dangerously. Give me a sign, anything… she prayed. Let me know you're still here, somehow.

For a moment, everything was still. The wind died down, and all she could hear was her own breathing. But then, something odd happened. The air felt heavy, like static before a storm, and Lydia's skin prickled with unease. The hairs on her arms stood on end as she looked up and saw the strangest thing—a shimmer in the air, a ripple, as though reality itself was being pulled aside like a curtain.

She blinked, and the shimmering rippled again, this time revealing something... no, someone.

A voice rang out, deep and raspy, but full of energy, breaking through the silence. "Though I know I should be wary, still I venture someplace scary!"

The words struck a chord deep within Lydia's memory, as though she'd always known them, always been on the edge of saying them herself. Without even realizing it, she found herself whispering along.

"Ghostly haunting, I turn loose! Beetlejuice... Beetlejuice... BEETLEJUICE!"

There was a thunderclap, and before Lydia could even process what was happening, a figure materialized in front of her. Wild green hair shot up in all directions, a garish black-and-white pinstriped suit covered his lanky frame, and his face… Well, his face was a mix of mischievous grins and sunken, ghoulish features. Beetlejuice stood in all his chaotic glory, grinning from ear to ear as if he'd been waiting for this moment his whole afterlife.

"Lydia Deetz!" he howled, bowing dramatically. "Long time no see! Or, y'know, first time, whatever." He cracked his neck, flexed his fingers, and offered her a wink. "You called, and here I am—the ghost with the most, babe!"

Lydia froze, unsure of how to respond. This… thing standing in front of her was a demon, clearly, or some kind of trickster spirit. But he didn't seem hostile, more… energetic and obnoxious than anything.

"What are you?" Lydia managed to whisper, her voice trembling slightly.

"Me? I'm your new best friend," Beetlejuice said, his grin widening impossibly. "And trust me, you're gonna need one if you're hanging around this dump. No offense, kid, but your life seems like a real downer. Lucky for you, I'm here to spice things up!"

Lydia wiped at her eyes, blinking at the strangeness of it all. "I didn't mean to summon you."

Beetlejuice shrugged. "Eh, intent schmintent. You said the magic words, I appeared. Now, what's the deal? You look like someone stole your pet tarantula."

Lydia swallowed hard. "It's just… I miss her. My mom. She's gone, and nobody seems to care. It's like she never even existed." She hesitated, feeling oddly compelled to share more with this stranger, perhaps because he didn't seem to care about decorum or judgment.

Beetlejuice's eyes softened, just for a moment, though his grin remained. "Yeah, I know what that's like, kid. Loss. People forgetting you. It's rough." He slumped down beside her, crossing his legs. "But the dead aren't as far away as you think. I mean, look at me! I'm dead, and I'm right here!"

Lydia stared at him, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "Are you saying… you can talk to her? My mom?"

Beetlejuice rubbed his chin, his grin becoming sly. "Well, maybe. The Netherworld's a big place, lots of rules, lots of red tape. But for you? I'll make some calls. You want answers, right?"

Lydia's heart raced. "Yes. Please."

"Alright, alright! I'll help you out," Beetlejuice said, standing up and stretching. "But first, we've got to make a deal."

Lydia stood up, unsure but desperate. "What kind of deal?"

Beetlejuice's grin turned wicked. "Oh, nothing too serious. Just a little favor down the road, something small. Trust me, it'll be a blast."

Lydia, biting her lip, nodded hesitantly. "Okay. Deal."

"Atta girl!" Beetlejuice cheered, clapping his hands. "Now let's see about getting this party started. You've got a whole afterlife to explore, kiddo, and trust me—you're going to love it."

As the wind picked up again and reality seemed to shimmer, Lydia realized that maybe—just maybe—things were about to change. Whether for better or worse, she couldn't say, but with Beetlejuice by her side, it was bound to be an adventure.

As the wind whipped through Lydia's hair, Beetlejuice began to pace, tapping his chin with a bony finger as though deep in thought. "Alright, Lydia, listen up. Your old man and his lady friend want to turn this place into some sort of cookie-cutter suburban nightmare, right? We can't have that. Not with all the interesting stuff going on around here." He gave a sly grin. "What they don't know is that this house? It's built on a portal to the Netherworld."

Lydia's eyes widened. "A… portal?"

Beetlejuice nodded, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh yeah, a direct line to my stomping grounds. That's why things are gonna get a whole lot weirder for you, babe. You've already got one foot in our world now. And the more you open that door, the more we—" He spread his arms wide. "—can come through. You and I, we can control it."

Despite herself, Lydia felt a flicker of excitement mix with her curiosity. For so long, she had felt powerless, trapped in the dull, lonely existence her family had built around her. But this—this was something different. A connection to something bigger, stranger, darker. It felt like the world was cracking open, revealing a secret only she was privy to.

"How does it work?" she asked, cautiously stepping closer to the edge of the roof, as though peering into the void might show her something new. "This portal… what's it for?"

Beetlejuice winked. "What's it for? Whatever we want it to be! You want to talk to your mom, sure, we'll give it a shot. You want to meet some of the other inhabitants of the Netherworld? Let's throw a party. You see, down there, anything is possible. There are whole kingdoms, dark forests, haunted towns—things that'd make your goth little heart sing, trust me." He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You're not alone anymore, Lydia."

The words struck something deep inside her. She wasn't alone. She had spent so long feeling disconnected from the living world that this—this promise of companionship, of power, of understanding—was intoxicating. Lydia felt a sense of purpose she hadn't experienced since her mother was alive.

"Alright," she said softly. "I want to see it."

Beetlejuice's grin was so wide it looked like it might split his face. "Now you're talking! But first, we've got to figure out how to get rid of all the boring stiffs in this house." He turned toward the faint sounds of Charles and Delia's voices floating up from the dining room below. "Your dad and Delia? They're planning that little dinner party, right? It's time to liven things up."

Lydia raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, just a little... redecoration. Nothing too flashy, but enough to make them rethink this whole 'model home' nonsense. Trust me, they'll think twice before they start building a gated community over a haunted Netherworld portal."

Lydia couldn't help but smile. The idea of ruining Delia's meticulously planned evening felt like poetic justice. "What do you have in mind?"

Beetlejuice rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I've got plenty of tricks up my sleeve. We'll start small. A little ghostly possession here, some animated furniture there. The usual. But we'll save the grand finale for dessert."

Lydia hesitated. "I don't want to hurt them. Just… scare them a little."

Beetlejuice's grin softened, if only slightly. "Kid, that's all I'm about. A good spook, nothing serious. Trust me, they'll just think they've had a bad night. But hey, maybe after this, your dad will finally realize he can't ignore what's happening around here. He might even listen to you."

That last part was what sealed it for Lydia. She had tried to get Charles to understand her pain, to acknowledge her mother's absence, but he always brushed it aside, too focused on his business ventures and new relationship with Delia. If a haunting was what it took to make him see reality, then so be it.

"Let's do it," she said, her voice stronger than before.

Beetlejuice cackled. "Now that's the spirit! Come on, we've got a party to crash!"

With a snap of his fingers, Beetlejuice vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing by the staircase leading back into the house. "Follow me, Lydia. The fun's about to begin."

Lydia descended the stairs cautiously, her heart racing with both anxiety and excitement. Down below, she could hear Delia's voice carrying from the dining room, talking about her "vision" for the community and her plans to showcase the house to potential investors.

"This house represents an intersection of the traditional and the avant-garde," Delia was saying to their guests, her voice filled with a pompous sort of pride. "It's all about blending the old with the new, creating something bold and exciting!"

Lydia smirked. Oh, we're definitely about to create something bold.

Beetlejuice sidled up beside her, his green hair standing out like a beacon. "Ready?"

She nodded.

The two slipped into the shadows, making their way through the house unseen. Beetlejuice hummed softly to himself, clearly enjoying the anticipation, while Lydia felt her pulse quicken. They reached the dining room just as Charles and Delia were serving appetizers, and Beetlejuice leaned in close to Lydia's ear.

"Let's start with a little appetizer of our own."

With another snap of his fingers, the chandelier above the table began to sway, casting eerie shadows across the room. Delia glanced up, her brow furrowing. "Charles, did you feel that?"

Before he could respond, the chairs around the dining table began to creak and groan, their legs twisting and bending like something alive. The guests gasped as the table itself seemed to shift and pulse, the wood rippling like waves on a lake.

"What in the world—?!" Charles exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

Delia's eyes widened in horror as one of her prized sculptures—a bizarre creation of twisted metal and glass—came to life, its limbs stretching and contorting into grotesque shapes. "My art! What's happening?!"

Lydia stifled a laugh as Beetlejuice winked at her from the shadows. The chaos was only just beginning.

One of the guests, a real estate investor, bolted for the door, but as he reached for the handle, it twisted away from him, laughing in a low, sinister voice. The man yelped, backing away as the walls themselves began to whisper, faint voices chanting from some far-off place.

"This… this house is haunted!" one of the other guests shrieked.

Delia was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, her carefully crafted image of control and sophistication unraveling before her eyes. "This can't be happening! Charles, do something!"

Charles, for his part, was pale and speechless, staring at the bizarre scene unfolding before him. The table had begun to float, the silverware twirling in the air like a macabre ballet. The chandelier flickered, casting long, shifting shadows across the walls, and the whispers grew louder, more menacing.

Lydia could barely contain her glee. For once, the people around her—her

—for once, the people around her were finally feeling the chaos she had lived with every day since her mother passed. Lydia's heart raced as she watched Delia flounder in panic, clutching her bizarre art piece as if it could protect her from the supernatural mayhem.

Beetlejuice, still hidden in the shadows, chuckled softly, reveling in the chaos. "You see, Lyds? This is how you get people's attention." He snapped his fingers again, and the whispers from the walls turned into a cacophony of eerie voices chanting Delia's name.

"Deeee-liaaaa..." they hissed in unison, sending shivers down everyone's spines.

Delia's face was drained of all color. "Charles, do something!" she screamed, but Charles, frozen in shock, could only watch in stunned silence.

Beetlejuice appeared beside Lydia again, whispering in her ear. "Wanna kick it up a notch, kid? Maybe something a little more... dramatic?"

Lydia hesitated for a moment. She wanted to scare them, to shake them out of their obliviousness, but there was still a part of her that didn't want to push too far. "I think… I think that's enough."

Beetlejuice pouted, clearly disappointed but not surprised. "Alright, alright, you're the boss. Let's bring things back to normal… for now." With a wave of his hand, the floating furniture slowly returned to the ground, the whispering voices faded, and the chandelier stilled, leaving the dining room in a state of tense silence.

Charles, pale and sweating, finally found his voice. "What in God's name just happened?"

One of the guests, still visibly shaken, muttered, "This house is… is cursed! We need to leave!"

Delia, still clutching her art piece, was at a loss for words, her grand vision of a gated community now teetering on the edge of collapse. "No! No, it's just… an art installation, right Charles? A performance! I planned it all… for dramatic effect!" Her voice was desperate, but none of the guests seemed convinced.

As they gathered their things and quickly made for the exit, Lydia felt a small twinge of satisfaction. Finally, her father and Delia were forced to acknowledge that something was wrong—something beyond their control. But the moment was bittersweet. As the last of the guests fled the house, Lydia's heart sank a little. Even though she had gotten what she wanted, she still felt that familiar emptiness gnawing at her insides.

She turned to Beetlejuice, who was grinning ear to ear. "Well, kiddo, I'd say that was a smashing success!"

Lydia sighed, her excitement fading. "I don't know, Beetlejuice. It didn't really solve anything. My dad's still not going to listen to me. Delia's just going to brush it off as something weird that happened, and tomorrow they'll both go back to pretending like nothing's wrong."

Beetlejuice's grin faltered slightly, and for a brief moment, something like empathy flickered in his eyes. "Yeah… well, the living are pretty thick-headed sometimes. But hey, at least you know you're not alone anymore, right? You've got me."

Lydia managed a small smile. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Before she could say anything more, there was a loud knock at the front door. Lydia and Beetlejuice exchanged a glance, both curious and wary. "Who could that be?" Lydia muttered.

Beetlejuice shrugged. "Only one way to find out." With a wave of his hand, the door creaked open on its own, revealing a tall, lanky figure standing in the doorway.

The boy had messy blond hair and wore a well-worn duster coat, his gray eyes gleaming with curiosity and amusement. He smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe as if he'd been expecting to be let in.

"Nice party you've got going on here," he said, his voice teasing but friendly.

Lydia blinked, her surprise evident. "Who are you?"

The boy's grin widened. "Name's Jace. Jace Fingerling. Heard some weird stuff was happening at the old Maitlands' place and figured I'd come check it out. Looks like I got here just in time for the grand finale."

Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes, sizing Jace up with suspicion. "And how exactly did you hear about it, punk?"

Jace shrugged, unfazed by the spectral trickster. "Let's just say I've got my sources. Plus, I've got a little interest in the supernatural myself." He pulled a small, leather-bound book from his coat pocket and waved it in front of Beetlejuice's face. "Grimoires, alchemy, demon summoning—y'know, the usual."

Beetlejuice's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, you're one of those kids, huh?"

Jace chuckled. "Guess you could say that."

Lydia, still processing the sudden appearance of this strange boy, glanced at Beetlejuice. "You know him?"

Beetlejuice shook his head. "Nah, but I can tell he's not your average meatbag. This one's been playing with some serious mojo."

Jace tucked the book back into his pocket, his playful grin never fading. "Don't worry, I'm not here to mess with you guys. Just thought I'd say hi and see what's going on. Looks like you've got some interesting things happening here."

Lydia, despite her initial wariness, found herself intrigued. Jace seemed different from the other kids she had met—more confident, more open to the strange and unusual. And for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel the urge to push someone away.

"Well… I guess you're welcome to stick around," Lydia said, her voice cautious but not unkind.

Jace winked. "Thanks. I think I will."

As Jace stepped into the house, Lydia couldn't help but feel like things were about to get even stranger. She had summoned Beetlejuice hoping for a connection, and now, with this new arrival, it seemed like the universe was throwing more strange and unexpected people her way.

Maybe, just maybe, her world was starting to open up.

Beetlejuice, watching the two kids with a bemused expression, leaned back and crossed his arms. "Well, well, looks like this might be the start of something very interesting."

Lydia nodded, her heart feeling just a little lighter. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn't feel quite so alone.