-1I am pleased to say that the next installment is here! I think it's a bit different from my other chapters but I hope you find it enjoyable anyway. Even if you don't, it is leading up to the main theme that I am hoping to achieve in this story. It's so hard to write two stories that are about the same characters yet are so completely opposite on so many levels at once!
Disclaimer: I don't own Betelgeuse. Man, I hate having to retype these everytime they disappear on my review and edit screen!
"Please sir, I had no idea it was you…I have been…harasses a lot lately by an old acquaintance and mistook you for someone else. Please forgive me!" Betelgeuse heard Lydia plead. She was locked up tight in her room and had been all morning since she had awoken to a couch full of vomit that the poltergeist had happily nested in by the time her sleepy lids had cast themselves upon him.
He paused by the young woman's door just for a moment to eavesdrop before he knocked and unceremoniously let himself in. Lydia gasped and jumped as he entered, but quickly went back to the phone conversation. "Yes…yes…oh thank you!…Yes…I'll be there! And sir, again, I'm sorry about the misunderstanding! Yes thank you!" And with that she clicked the talk button off and slammed the phone down in defiant victory, glaring up at her undead foe.
"I am going to lunch with Jim! He has agreed to give me another chance!" she breathed through all her excitement before appreciating to whom she was actually addressing and narrowed her eyes in revulsion. The two did not actually speak after she had woke up on the couch and she couldn't actually remember exactly what had went on the night before.
Betelgeuse could sense the state of apprehension the gothic young woman was in at the possibilities of what could have occurred and his lips curled in delight at her agitated state. "Last night, my dear, is for me to remember and you to relive eventually. So don't bother yourself with it. I will say, though, you aren't nearly as icy when your liquored up, babes." And in the simple delight of her features' contortion he gave her a little wink and turned to leave.
"By the way, I'm going out so don't bother to make me supper…" he called behind him into the palpable outrage he was leaving in the room before popping out of view and out of the house.
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Betelgeuse worked at the shiny black button that was gleaming maliciously up at him from the fly of his pants. It was now unobstructed from the belt, which he had hurriedly discarded as soon as he had realized it was undone the night before. Though he hadn't gotten lucky, and damn he was close…a small reward from his efforts now lay carefully crammed under the leather sofa back at Lydia's house. It was his favorite belt after all.
Memories of the smell of alcohol and cheap shampoo still haunted him from his failed attempt at ass, not to mention the visible stains of tears and vomit on the chest of his coat. He hadn't bothered with cleaning it very well. He was damned if that ice queen was going to turn him soft. It also gave him immense satisfaction to see the girl squirm when she saw it on his clothes as proof of their little escapade.
"I am the ghost with the most, and you," he threatened darkly down at the shining ebony button, "are not my master! Now fuck off will you!"
The button glinted in the sun and refused to pop away from its threads.
The poltergeist sighed and slumped up against the corner of the nearest building in defeat before he felt a curious pressure in his back. "Drop your wallet and walk away or I kill you," a voice warned from behind him.
If Betelgeuse had turned around the mugger would have forgotten his endeavor entirely and ran, screaming back into the alley to wait on a small old woman or someone else more worth his time to come by. As it was, he did not recognize the evil smirk that spread joyously across the ghoul's face without reaching his eyes. He didn't notice how his eyes blazed with a piercing emerald fire against a backdrop of molten gold.
Betelgeuse couldn't keep the enjoyment and near excitement from his tone as he addressed his would-be attacker. "And what makes you think you can kill me…?" he hissed, blinking the weapon into non-existence and turning on the spot to face the mugger. He appraised the petrified man in front of him with distain and grabbed the man's throat to carry him silently into the darkness of the alley behind them.
The poltergeist finally dropped the panting man onto a pile or garbage that had accumulated in the years of the alley's existence. "W…w…what are you…d…deamon…? The "attacker's" voice rattled in his chest when he finally regained his senses and looked into his opponent's face. Betelgeuse's eyes flashed violently as his grin broadened.
"Demon? Close…I'm the ghost with the most…They'll know my name where you're going…" he whispered in victorious finality.
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"Oh my dear, you look lovely!" Jim called over the roar of the crowd as he met the thin pale girl in front of a small café. He shot her a perfect toothy grin and ran his long fingers through his disheveled thick black hair. Lydia smiled back in gratitude before making another attempt in apologies.
Her client waved her off. "Do not start with all that again, Lydia. It's in the past! The most important thing we have to focus on now is your work…" he reassured in a soothing and inspirational voice. He pushed a long dark bang out of his eyes and Lydia genuinely smiled for the first time in what seemed decades.
It felt good to be back to work, back around people who admired her photographs and begged for more, back to a busy schedule. She suddenly felt very foolish for taking time off of her beloved work. What had she been thinking? "Yes sir. Do you have any new requests or is this meeting to check up on my current work?"
Their lunch lasted much longer than normal lunches last and Lydia left the café smiling to herself and to the new inspiration and ideas that had occurred to her during the elongated meal. She strolled happily towards her apartment to change into a more comfortable pair of jeans.
She was too busy deciding if she would rather see a movie or shop for a new pair of boots that night to celebrate and didn't notice the crowd gathered at a very ordinary alleyway as she passed central park. Her mind flickered briefly to the possibility of a dancing monkey or some such before moving past them with little concern.
She even had, for a few shining hours, forgotten what would be waiting for her when she stepped inside her small apartment. Very few things could have wiped Lydia Deetz's smile from her face, but once she was inside her door most of those things came to her attention.
Clumps of soggy dirt trailed off to the couch where a very familiar and unwelcome poltergeist was sitting; faint traces of a red-brown substance splattered across his face and mingled in the dry vomit decorating his shirt and coat.
Lydia's voice wavered as she inquired, "W…what's on your face Betelgeuse?"
The sly grin that etched their way onto his features was enough conformation for her. Lydia had photographed more than her share of carnage to instantly recognize dried blood. She backed herself away from him and into the hall towards her bedroom.
To the Goth's horror, Betelgeuse got up to follow her. "Not gonna ask about my day, dear?" he joked as Lydia felt her back land firmly against her bedroom door. "Don't…don't hurt me…" she whispered as she fumbled with the knob behind her back.
Betelgeuse's eyes glinted in derision. His body was against hers now and he looked hungrily down at her. "Why would I hurt you, babes? I think you understand me…" he purred into her ear and reached around her body to finish turning the knob she had been fumbling with.
Lydia shrieked as she fell through the threshold of her bedroom, but did not hit the floor. Instead, she hovered inches from it and landed gently. "See, I can be a nice guy…" the poltergeist remarked lazily and turned with a yawn to head back to the now filthy living room.
Lydia scrambled to her knees and locked the door to her bedroom. She knew it couldn't keep him out but it made her feel better anyway. She quickly scrambled into her bed and curled protectively up into her blankets before thinking things through.
Betelgeuse had done something bad. He had hurt someone. She didn't put it past him in the least. He had almost killed her father years before. Her mind reeled as she tried to plan what should be done next. But before she knew it and totally without her permission, Her weariness caught up with her and she fell asleep.
Ok, so that's it for this one! I love writing emotion! It is my favorite thing to do! If I could write a whole book just using emotions I would and it would be fun! But I can't cuz it wouldn't make sense…lolz
Yes, this chappie is a bit more disturbing than the others I think…and much less humorous. But we will have to see where it will go…hmm…I do love the humor…Me thinks I will have to find a new and witty way to combine them? Lolz Hope you enjoyed….