"I smiled,—for what had I to fear?"
Flooding with the recognizable sense of blood magic, Beetlejuice's head shot up in the middle of filling out the forms given to him by his former employer.
"Oh shit," He swore, startling Juno for perhaps the first time in a millennium.
She rolled her eyes then closed them, "What is it now?"
"It's Lydia. She…. but she can't. She's at the house. Who the fuck!"
Slamming a balled fist into the desk, he repeatedly cursed until Juno started laughing.
"What's so funny? Don't you get what's happening here?"
"She killed someone." Juno supplied with a grin. "I guess you better hope it wasn't an innocent Girl Scout or pizza delivery man."
"I gotta go check-"
"Ah ah ah ah, you stay right here and finish signing these. What is done is done; going back now isn't going to return life to whatever soul was dumb enough to enter the lion's den."
Beetlejuice didn't miss the self-satisfied smirk that graced the old woman's cruel lips.
"You know, Beetlejuice, this is rather poetic. You were always out of my control when we had a deal. It seems like Karma has returned to give you a taste of what it was like."
He couldn't glare at the woman hard enough.
There are no movies in the current culture that would prepare a person for the sight of a dismembered body. No way to describe the splattering of flesh and blood with every stroke of the ax. Splitting wood for the fireplace hardly had the same appeal.
Lydia gleefully prepared the left arm upon the blood-soaked log; she debated where to start, wrist or elbow. If she could save the upper arm from hitting the ground, she could give it to Jacques for one of his cannibalistic creations.
Mind made up, she picked up her ax and prepared to swing when she heard her lover return.
"Lydia!" He called, drawing her name out while he bellowed. She knew he was angry just by the tone, but when she looked up, whipping a bloody hand across her forehead to brush her hair out of her face, she gave him a brilliant grin.
"Took you long enough. I thought you would have been here before I got the body outside."
Beetlejuice walked out the back kitchen door and surveyed the lawn. The limbs that were already cut into manageable pieces had been carefully stacked while the rest of the mangled corpse lay beside the log—a plastic bucket of entrails beside that. For the first time in his afterlife, he thought he was going to be sick.
"What did you do?!" He cried out as he took two steps off the patio before tripping over a rounded object. He hit the ground with an 'oooff' and rolled onto his back, not caring that dirt and blood began to mar the white stripes of his suit.
It was then he noticed the object he tripped over was the head of Lydia's victim.
"Fuck! Lydia, I told you not to kill her!" He scrambled to his feet and picked up the head. Resting bitch face alive; Resting in Peace Bitch Face in death. The humor was lost in him, though, due to the fire that burned inside of him while he stared at his chosen patsy.
"It was a clean-cut, Beej. You would have loved it. The look on her face was priceless when she saw me use the juice." Lydia happily swung her ax to separate the upper and lower arm. "I was thinking about House of Wax. Do you think it would work? Jane's head would make a great Halloween decoration, and I think I might be able to save a couple of these appendages."
Beetlejuice looked up at her, proud and horrified as she readjusted the lower arm for her next cut.
"Those meaty parts over there are for Jacques. Do you think you could send them back to the roadhouse for me? I mean, I could wrap them, but I have so much to clean up."
"I can't believe you!" He screamed. " I told you not to fucking kill Jane Muther-Fucking-Butterfield, and there you are hacking her to bits. I'm the psychopath here Lydia, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you want to get caught? Do you wanna end up in the fucking pits of hell? I was making a deal for us, Babes! I was gonna help ya, so you didn't have ta kill anymore. Now, what am I gonna do with you?"
Lydia slowly stood up and watched her ghost rant as he picked up as many pieces as possible. She could feel herself rise to anger with each word. Building slowly as he continued on and on about how wrong she was.
"She came here to kill me, Beej. What did you expect me to do? Let her?"
"What?! No! Fuck!" He growled and reached down for another chunk of flesh only to drop a foot off the stack. "Son of a Bitch! Fucking cunt can't even be cooperative in death. Lydia! Would you give me a hand while I clean up your goddamn mess!"
The loud thunk at the back of his head came with a sudden force that knocked him over into the pile of gore. His stomach turned but held still because his anger rose higher and higher. Jumping to his feet, he faced Lydia, who held her hand to her mouth to suppress her laughter.
Glancing down, he saw why. She threw Jane Butterfield's hand at him.
He glared at her, but she only broke down with laughter. Before he could find her blood-soaked body alluring, he returned to pick up the body parts and removed them from the world of the living.
Lydia watched him vanish before returning to her work.
"What a sticky end for Jane, indeed." She muttered before busting up into another round of giggles.
"Sacre bleu!" Jacques exclaimed when he entered the Roadhouse kitchen. He surveyed the body parts as Ginger, his beloved ghoul, wrap the meat tenderly in butcher paper.
"Hiya honey," ginger beamed up at him. Her curled hair was tied back with a headband and sporting an apron. She was smiling, dazzling, and angelic as she prepared the flesh that was stacked beside her.
Beetlejuice popped in with a few more limbs and was about to poof away when he saw the former skeleton standing in the doorway.
"Yo Jackie, do you ever use the guts?" He asked.
Jacques could sense the agitation of his former mentor, so he answered quickly. "Mais oui, The internal organs can be used in many dishes."
"Right," was all Beetlejuice said before he zapped himself back to the outer world.
"What on earth…?"
"Lydia hacked up the realtor who was tryin' at sellin' the joint. If you ask me, I'd say she put us all to shame. Well, maybe not you, my darlin'."
"Let me help you. Human meat can be a little tricky."
Blissfully Lydia watched as the last remaining traces of the warm red liquid joined the warm water in a spiraling descent down the shower drain. So similar it was to the famous psycho scene that she began laughing. The sound echoed off the tile as the acoustic environment only provided a lovely reverberation.
Her mood had improved tenfold since that morning, which she could hardly believe. Waking up in her beloved ghost's arms, spending an afternoon on the phone with Allen leading up to a much-needed confrontation.
Getting to hack Jane up was more for entertainment. Partially to see the look on Bj's face when she showed him how she was planning on disposing of the body. His less than thrilled entrance was rather disappointing. Yet here she was, enjoying a warm shower as she washed away any remaining bits of flesh that chose to stick to her dark hair.
Maybe it was a good thing she didn't tell him about the heart. He was angry enough about the head. She didn't think it was too outlandish. Many people in town would get a kick out of a Halloween decoration that looked like Jane.
Then again, she could see his point. It would draw attention to her when people realized Jane was missing.
With a sigh, Lydia rested her body against the tile while the water soothes her skin. The lukewarm trickle sent tiny shivers through her body, culminating in a tingle that shot lower and lower till she found herself touching parts of her body she hadn't done since she starting sleeping with Beetlejuice.
She knew herself and what she liked, but she could already tell it wasn't the same as having a lover caress her folds with unpredictable patterns and pressures. Nothing, not even the length of Allen, could compare to the clever nature of Beej's tongue.
As if the thought of him summoned the ghost, she felt the shower curtain drawback, snapping loudly as the rings clang together.
Lydia yelped in surprise, snatching her hand away from her ministrations only to be met with the disapproving stare of Beetlejuice. He snarled his lip and turned his gaze away when he realized he interrupted something. Lydia could feel the hurt and jealousy from him based solely on the act of her pleasuring herself.
Indignant anger began to rise at the notion that he didn't even want her to take her own pleasure without his say so.
"Get dressed," he said gruffly.
"Excuse me, but I was in the middle of something."
Taken aback by her venom Beej looked at her with wide eyes, almost as if he didn't recognize her. Hair plastered to her neck while she crossed her arms to hide her breasts from his view.
"I ain't gonna fight with ya this time, Lyds. We need ta talk. So get yerself dressed."
Lydia scoffed and tugged the curtain closed. All pleasure gone, mood ruined. The shower lost its appeal, so she turned the faucet off and stepped out of the shower as water dripped down her body. She reached for a towel and wrapped it around her body, then stepped into the hallway.
"Beej?" She called out in her room's direction before opening the door and finding her room empty, to which she let out a heavy sigh before closing the door to dress for the night. Something comfortable, soothing. Beej was rather angry, but she felt she could try to appease him with some physical attention. Nothing worked better than catering to the needs of a horny ghost.
She chose a silky black nightgown with a low cut neckline of lace that felt like a cold drape of fabric made from spun air. Taking a hand across her body, she admired the way the fabric molded against her curves. Yes, she thought to herself, this would do the trick.
No matter how mad she got with her spooky man, Lydia still desired him. She loved him even though he nearly killed her. She loved him when he raged when they argued and when he gave her that look that said that she was his whole world.
He never looked at another person the way he did when they snuggled on the couch watching a horror flick or when they took a trip to the Neither-Woods for a picnic. Beetlejuice may try to hide how much he admired her, but she saw, and she felt every flutter of his affection through their bond. Even before their empath connection grew to this level, she knew he would become a puddle for her. Beetlejuice was a softy on the inside.
The frustration and anger that flowed through him may have tapped down his amorous side, but it was still there. Still burning deep under his disappointment, and even though he interrupted a private session of personal touching, she still wanted to please him. Strange but true, she wanted Beetlejuice happy, and she wanted to keep him in her life from here to the end of time.
She wanted to wake up every morning with him. Even this morning, his insatiable nature gave her a laugh and even when she was in pain from her previous encounters. She even found it sweet that he continued to try to impress her in bed while she ventured into the sweet relationship she was developing with Allen.
The problem she could see now was that he might not only be upset with her for killing Jane, but he might be concerned that she was drifting away from him. Stupid ghost. Lydia scoffed at the notion. She loved him, and there really wasn't much she wouldn't do for him. If only there was a way for him to see that she is still committed to their journey. Their goal and their eternity were still important to her. How could she prove it to him?
Then it hit her. Like a runaway bus, it hit her while she was on a mental journey from Main Street to the cross of No Dur Road.
"I'm going to marry him," She gazed at the woman in the mirror, telling her exactly what was on her mind. "I love him. I'm gonna marry him."
Mirror Lydia crossed her arms and tilted her head, "You say that now."
"No, I'm going to do it. I'll say yes tonight. I will prove it to him." She insisted.
"And if he starts a fight? Are you gonna get on your hands and knees to blow him till he calms down? You know how he gets." Mirror Lydia rolled her eyes and pointed at Real Lydia's outfit. "Just because you put on a sexy exterior, he isn't going to let you talk. You don't stand a chance."
"I stand every bit of a chance as you do. Beetlejuice loves me… us… Oh, gods! How does he do this all the time? You know what. Go away. I don't have time to argue with myself."
Mirror Lydia sighed and shook her head. "Suit yourself, but I'm sure Allen will be a major subject of the debate tonight. You have blood on your hands even if it's not visible to mortal eyes."
Lydia glared and stepped away from her manifested alternate personality. Who needs a pep talk if the reflection was only going to put doubt in her heart. Lydia was determined. She would accept his proposal. Tonight.
The moment Lydia walked into the living room, Beetlejuice nearly forgot his pre-planned speech. Nearly.
Sitting in her father's armchair, Beetlejuice watched as she entered the room with the ease of a seductress, slithering into the room with a sway to her hips. His mouth felt parched when he watched those damn straps slip. Again with the fucking shoulder teasing.
This was going to be harder than he anticipated.
"Before you start yelling at me, you have to understand that I didn't have a choice in killing Jane. She came here with a gun. She shot at me three times before…"
"I ain't gonna yell at you."
"So you are not mad?"
"Oh, I'm mad. I'm livid, but I ain't going to punish you this time. You fucked up, Babes." He rested his body deep into the chair with his eyes closed. "You killed her right when I signed a contract to save you from hell but now… Now you gotta finish the kill count. Thing is, you can't off innocent victims. You gotta have a good reason ta do it. Cuz if you don't…"
Lydia felt her heart drop. Looking at the disappointment on Beej's face, Lydia curled her arms across her body and, without saying a word, moved to the sofa.
"What you did set me back, and, damn it, we were so close. I ain't gonna sugar coat it for ya, Lydia. Hot as yer killer instinct is, if you don't reign that in, we are fucked. One way ticket to the fire pit, ya get me?"
Lydia flinched at the use of her full name, feeling more and more like a pit stain on his best shirt. Where was her beloved ghost? Adoration was gone from his eyes. Lust filled leers and hungry gazes, gone.
"I got the love bugs at home wrapping up that meat. You made that old bag-a-bones happy, but I swear Lydia, if you pull bullshit like that again, I can't be held responsible for what I'll do."
Mouth open, Lydia went to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. Her heart was shattering, crack by crack with every word of anger that dripped like venom from his cold dead lips. Her mind ran in directions she couldn't fathom. Breaking their bond by destroying the watch, tearing up their first contract, or… he could kill her and be done with it.
"Save it, Babes." He stood with finality and walked over to her. He took her chin into his hand and made her look at him.
A barely visible speck of love was shown through the disappointment, and she held onto that like a spark of hope that she hadn't completely destroyed them. Then, he let her go. Without even a kiss goodbye, he left her there, sitting alone in a house where she once felt so much joy.
Below the floorboard, almost as if mocking her pain, a steady pulse of power beat with jubilance.