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Chapter Text

The Outdoor Performing Arts Festival in Peaceful Pines; a place for those dreams and miles away from Broadway to get noticed. Where budding influencers farmed for easy and cheap content. And the usually small town developed a larger than life personality. (Or so Delia says.) 

Naturally, after the "incident" at school, Delia had been insistent that Lydia go to the festival. Although a bit reluctant, the young goth figured that she could handle some street performers and mediocre Inde bands. 

"I could take some photos!" she exclaimed, already rushing up the stairs to get her equipment, "There's sure to be some really strange and unusual performers out there today!" 

Okay, not what her stepmother had in mind. But still, it was a creative outlet. As far as Charles and Delia knew, their daughter had been spending a lot of time cooped up in her room. The fresh air would do the child some good. 

"At least she'll be outside," shrugged Charles, not even bothering to set down his newspaper while casually sipping his coffee. 

"But I didn't get to tell her about the cute outfit I picked out for her," Delia sighed, glancing to where her stepdaughter had been just moments before "oh well! Won't she be just surprised!"

Charles just sighed, shaking his head. 

"I'm sure she'll be surprised alright, dear." 

* * *

While Lydia was up in her room, grabbing her photography "go-bag", (something she always kept on hand for any last minute photo excursions,) her eyes fell to the grimoire on her nightstand. She picked up the spell book, debating whether or not it would be too much of a burden to take with her. 

"Hmmmm... I wonder..." Lydia muttered to herself.

She remembered how Beetlejuice could just slip things into his suit jacket; items like bulky old television sets, live animals, and assorted household appliances. All without so much as leaving a crease. A term Lydia came across in one of the many, many books she'd gone through came to mind, Dimensional Pocket. 

Opening up her camera bag, the girl slid the book inside, delighted that the thick grimoire fit perfectly and didn't even add any extra weight. However, any sense of giddiness and excitement quickly vanished; she finally noticed the pink, frilly "Sunday Finest" dress that had been laid out on the bed for her, complete with a ridiculous wide brim sunhat. 

"Really mother?" Lydia grumbled, glaring at that pastel-toned travesty as though it just insulted her, "No!" 

"Hey babes, let me help ya out with that!" interjected that familiar, gravely voice from her dresser mirror. 

At once, Lydia smiled, turning around to see Beetlejuice's reflection instead of her own. The ghost was wearing his guide uniform today, indicating that he was on his way to a job, or at the very least to meet with clients. However, The Ghost with the Most always made time for his best friend. 

With a snap of his fingers, that pink monstrosity vanished, rematerializing as a refined gothic black dress with tasteful black lace and thick tread boots. Even that once ridiculous and overdone sunhat gave the outfit a complete look once fixed; in other words, turning that black as well. 

"Deadly vu, Beej. You fixed it!" Lydia complemented, admiring her new and much improved outfit. 

Although the poltergeist was smiling and his pointed ears were perked, the dark circles around his pale yellow eyes were darker than usual. He seemed a little distracted and anxious about something but was trying to hide it. 

"Are you alright, BJ? You look dreadful," mentioned the girl, as she leaned closer to the mirror., "I mean, more than usual." 

Beetlejuice just gave a bashful shrug, "Awww, yer too kind, Lyds. Everything's-everything's just fine!" he insisted, turning the conversation off of himself, "What about you, babes? Everything... ummm workin' how it should? Feeling right? Still breathing? Heart still beating? Nothin' missing?" 

At the odd line of questioning, Lydia quirked an eyebrow, "So far as I know, BJ. Unless you did something with my heart and soul that I don't know about." 

While the girl may have meant it as a bit of playful teasing, she had no idea just how close to home that hit. Beetlejuice, however nodded, finding her answer satisfactory. She was still his strange and unusual Lydia, afterall. 

"Oh Lyyyyyydia!" called Delia's anti-siren's song, "Time to goooooo!" 

"Ugh... It's the Peaceful Pines Outdoor Performance Arts Festival," explained Lydia, "Hey! You'd look normal today. Wanna come with?" 

"You know I would, babes, but I gotta meet with a client," Beetlejuice mentioned, his grin widening, "but hey, I could always meet'cha there, Lyds." 

"See ya, Beej!"

Although still suspicious that Beetlejuice was concealing something, Lydia gave a friendly wave as she left, already anticipating her stepmother's shocked gasps and sputtering. The ghost, meanwhile, let out the breath he never truly had to hold in the first place. He'd found no contract with Lydia's name, the girl seemed all there. She'd just be attending some sort of performing arts festival. Any accidental discharges of magic could at least be explained away, for today, anyway. Really, what's the worst that could possibly happen? 

* * * 

Upon arriving at the outdoor festival, Lydia's toughest decision was where to start. The whole of the small downtown area had been decked out in colorful streamers and banners. Multiple booths were set up in the street and in-between the regular shops and restaurants, selling everything from handmade gifts, to food, to MLM schemes! Several "slapped together" stages had been set up with vastly different styles of music awkwardly competing with each other. And of course, there were those strange performances that made one question the true value of a degree in theatre arts. 

"Oh, isn't this just wonderful?" Delia sighed, dreamily as she spun around in a daze. 

Honestly, Charles just looked as though he were mentally calculating how many hours he was going to be able to withstand this sanctioned mayhem. 

"Try to relax... try to-GHAAAH!!" 

For as mean as it may have been, Lydia couldn't help but laugh when a group of actors, dressed like zombies, began mingling in the crowd, moaning and snapping their jaws, staging phoney attacks as well as photo ops. 

"Dad! Hold that pose!" Lydia called, as she set up her camera and began snapping pictures. 

The girl's father let out a resigned moan, humoring his daughter. When Lydia finished her photo shoot, she waved to the zombie actors, who limply waved back with groans and snarls before shuffling off to go terrify someone else out of their wits. 

"I don't think I can handle another scare like that, pumpkin," sighed Charles, as he finally got his heart rate back down to a reasonable level. 

"They're just scare actors, dad," explained Lydia, patting her father's arm, "it's not like they'd actually bite you." 

Naturally, Charles was quick to point out that he wasn't really "scared", just startled. Of course the people dressed as zombies wouldn't actually hurt anyone. Although, after taking a look at some of the other performances going on, he began to rethink that sentiment. 

"Charles dear, Lydia, look!" called Delia, her eyes all a-glitter. 

An overly "tragic" individual struck a dramatic pose while an equally hammy artist began throwing paint-filled water balloons at him. 

"Oh... can't you feel the emotions? The torture and suffering?!" 

While Delia swooned, Charles was still just trying to figure out what exactly he was witnessing. 

But all Lydia could think of was, "Beetlejuice would have loved this!" 

Well, perhaps Beetlejuice would have liked to be the one throwing the balloons. If anything else, Lydia managed to snap some pretty good shots, including the human canvas taking a nice, big splat of blue paint in the face. 

Yup! Her ghostly companion would appreciate that one, alright! 

* * *

Nearing late afternoon and in desperate need of a break from her stepmother, (who was absolutely relishing in this zany festival), and the living in general, Lydia managed to slip away, retreating to the Cemetery. The hussle and bustle of the festival could have become the still be heard, but it was considerably subdued. Hidden away by the old, shady trees and Gothic headstones. Artfully crafted mausoleums and beautiful graves intermingled with wildflowers. With a sigh of relief, Lydia sat down on the overgrown grass, next to an old and elegant grave stone. With a wave of her hand, she adjusted the greenery just so, making a comfortable arrangement for herself. 

"Oh this is nice..." 

She would have to wait until they went home to develop her photos, but she was certain that she'd gotten some good ones. However, as Lydia put her camera away, she remembered! Her grimoire! 

"Well now, let's see what else you know..."

Cracking open 'The Somewhat Comprehensive and All Inclusive Guide to Necromancy', Lydia settled in to read. Starting at the beginning, she took heed of the warning on Page 01, 'Do NOT speak these spells out loud unless you intend to use them!' 

Alright, it was a good thing she decided to start at the very front this time! At the very least, the night before with Beetlejuice was simply spent restoring dead and dying saplings back to life. 

Every so often, she would see a sketchy beetle scuttle across the page as she read. Or, that familiar striped suit would insert itself in an illustration, just out the corner of her eye. The young goth smiled, her friend was just looking out for her. 

"I wonder what Beetlejuice was all freaked out about?" Lydia muttered. 

Indeed, the spectre had been acting very odd, moreso than usual. Asking such bizarre questions; like he was afraid something irreplaceable had been taken from her. Sure, Beetlejuice was trying to play it cool, but Lydia had been his friend long enough to learn his 'tells'. A twitch of the right ear, left eye blinking a split second before the right. 

While pondering over this morning's oddities and reading a fascinating chapter on 'Mutually Beneficial Hauntings', alarmingly familiar jeers of laughter brought Lydia back to reality. That shrill noise could only have come from Claire Brewster and her pack of clout scavengers. So much for peace and quiet. 

"I can handle this myself," Lydia whispered, under her breath. 

She remained calm and collected, as though she didn't even hear them approaching. Quietly, Lydia took her camera out of the bag, concealing it behind her book; there were still a few photos left on that roll of film, maybe she'd capture a real show stopper! Her eyes would dart just over the top of her grimoire, covertly watching the group invading her private little sanctuary. 

Claire, wearing her designer pink track suit, stood out amongst her much plainer entourage, although the others, Regina and Peggy, along with a much older boy, were still wearing flashy designer labels that proved they had "more dollars than sense". (As Charles would put it.)

"Ulk, like, why'd you bring me to this gross, dingy place?" Claire whined, in an overdramatic fashion. 

The one male in the group held up two bottles of imported craft beer, "We needed to bounce before the vendors noticed their stock missing." 

"I told you, Claire," Peggy crowed, quite proudly, "my brother Chad could get us some booze." 

Regina however, remained quiet, looking like her mind was elsewhere. However, at the soft sound of a camera shutter, the former enforcer spoke up once she realized that they were not alone. 

"Hey-!"

"Oh look, everyone! It's Loony Lydia!" spat Peggy, suddenly looking quite on edge. 

Of course, only the most important questions were on her shallow mind. How much did Lydia overhear? And what would it take for her to keep her mouth shut?

"Huh?" feigned Lydia, casting an irritated glance over the top of her Necronomican as she put her camera back into the bag, "Oh, I never even heard you drop in." 

Claire wrinkled up her nose, appearing as though she'd just smelt the leavings of a large barnyard animal. Impatiently, she stomped her foot while the other two were signalling to Chad to hide the beer. (Louder than intended.) 

"Like, what is that ugly book you're reading?" snipped the probably-bottle-blonde, before letting out a shrill, phony laugh, "Looks like you just dug it out of the trash!"

Lydia narrowed her eyes and snapped her grimoire closed. With hastened, otherworldly grace, she arose to her feet rather quickly.

"Nothing any of you would know how to appreciate," answered the young goth, keeping a firm hold on her steely resolve, "of course, I'd be surprised if you, Claire, could manage more than the label on a mascara bottle!" 

At that, Claire let out a scream, ordering both Regina and Peggy to back her up while Chad just awkwardly watched before chugging one of the bottles in his hand. She reached out, grasping for Lydia's grimoire.

"W-wait Claire!" pleaded Regina, trying to take "the queen bee's" hands off of Lydia's book. 

Peggy smacked her friend's hands away, giving Claire the upper hand in wresting the grimoire away from the goth.

"I'll ask politely just once," warned Lydia, clenching and opening her fists while kinetic energy trembled around her, "please return my book!" 

"Seriously, Claire, remember what happened last time?" whispered Regina, nervously. 

Sticking out her tongue in disgust, Claire gave a threatening look towards Regina, "I gave you another chance to be, like, with the cool people, Regina. Be useful or get lost!" 

Having little regard for her rival's private property, Claire opened the book, making snide comments about the musty smell and subject matter. 

"Hey-!" protested Lydia. 

She took a step forward, only to be met with the much larger Peggy. However, this time, Lydia wasn't backing down. 

"I always knew you were a witch, Loony Lydia," Peggy sneered, "you know what they used to do with witches, right?" 

Even Chad felt the need to chime in, "Someone got too into D&D it looks like. That's just nasty and gross! You're sick Lydia, really sick!"

"Figures that YOU would be into this disgusting stuff!" Claire spat, still leafing through the pages, making faces at every one, "Like, what even iiiiiiiis this garbage?"

"It's mine! A friend gave it to me," Lydia snarled, as her patience wore thin, "you can either give it back or I'll take it back!" 

At those words, there was a collective, "Ohhhhhhhhohhhhh!" echoed by Claire's little entourage. 

"Why Lydia, sweetie... I didn't even know you had any friends!" 

Giving a smug smirk, as though she'd just defeated Lydia in a school sanctioned debate, Claire intentionally ripped a few pages out of the grimoire before tossing it at Lydia. 

The young goth caught the book, not even taking her eyes off of Claire as the little snot examined her vandalized prize. 

"Just some insurance. Don't get any ideas of telling our parents what you saw here, bitch!" Chad warned, handing the nearly empty bottle to his sister. 

"Let's just leave Claire, this is a bad-"

Immediately, Regina clammed up, casting nervous glances towards Lydia. 

Already, Lydia's mind was going through the mental calculations; ensnare them in tree roots? Send them flying in different directions with a telekinetic pulse? Perhaps scare them out of their ever loving wits with that terrifying demon face. 

'No, no... they may be jerks, but I don't want to hurt them...' kept racing through the girl's mind, preventing her from unloading every ounce of juice she had on them. 

"Like, raising the dead? Ewwwww! Who else but Loony Lydia would wanna do that?" jeered Claire, slapping Regina's arm when the other girl wasn't laughing with her, "Let's, like, see here now, Ver-ah-Tah..." 

Much to Lydia's horror, that blonde bimbo was READING the spell out loud! She had no idea what she was even doing! Let alone how to control the power within those pages! 

"No, Claire, don't! Reading it aloud will cast the spell," Lydia shouted, holding out her hand, "Now return those pages!" 

Peggy and her brother just began whooping and laughing. 

"Holy shit, this is just too good!" , "Who knew hanging around my sister's friends could be so much fun? What else ya got, witch?"

"Ahaha! I think we know who should have been locked away in the psych ward," Claire giggled, "Magic spells? Ghosts? Zombies? You can't honestly believe that any of this crap is real!" 

Against Lydia's warning, Claire continued to read the spell out loud. She and her crew cackled, making mockery and light out of the powerful forces that they unwittingly wielded. Regina backed away from the clique, giving an apologetic glance Lydia's way before she nearly tripped over a headstone. 

Having grown weary of their crap, Lydia closed the distance, her relatively small stature surprisingly intimidating. A low growl escaped from the girl's throat as her face shifted into that of an undead monstrosity, if only for a moment. Pale dead flesh. Yellow eyes. Green fangs. She reached out for Claire, red claws upon her fingertips. Startled by this new change, Lydia let out a startled yelp, while Claire and the others gasped and screamed. 

"Ughhh! What did you do, you freeeereak!!!?" Claire screamed, her eyes going wide. 

Shakily, she shoved the stolen grimoire pages into her Louie Vuitton handbag, slowly backing away.

Lydia could feel the shift and change within herself; her face feeling more comfortable under the shifted mask while a deep, gutteral growl left her throat. 

"Give. Them. Back!" 

Under her breath, Lydia began to whisper Beetlejuice's name. However, just as she tallied twice, the ground beneath their very feet began to tremble. Subtly at first, then a violent shake, like an earthquake. Gravestones began to topple while softened soil split like a poorly sewn seam. Rotting, skeletal hands tore through the ground, scratching and clawing to free themselves of their tombs. It was like a scene from a horror movie! Only it was actually happening in real time. 

"W-what is that?" Peggy stammered, pointing at Lydia while backing away. 

"Don't look, just run," urged Regina, averting her gaze before trying to pull her friend away. 

Claire and her clout scavengers shrieked and ran off, scrambling over one another to be the first to escape. But, in their mad dash, Peggy tripped over a low standing grave marker, hidden beneath the crab grass and wildflowers.  

"Wait! Help me! HEEEEEEEEELP!" she squealed, throwing a terrified glance over her shoulder. 

A cold, slimy hand wrapped around her ankle. From out of the soil, a grotesque, partially rotted skull surfaced, barring uneven, jagged teeth. Faster than one might expect, it took a deep bite into the unlucky girl, ripping and tearing into Peggy's soft, warm flesh. Blood spurted violently, all the while Peggy screamed as loud as she could. 

By a lucky kick to the zombie's face, she managed to free herself, limping and shrieking after Claire. Already, Peggy had a horrible paleness spreading upon her while her voice went hoarse. 

Frozen in shock from what she'd just witnessed, what was still happening, Lydia swallowed thickly as her grotesque mask rescinded. Her soft, brown eyes were as large as saucers, the moans and snarls of the undead surrounding her and thick stench of rot plaguing the air. She'd seen enough zombie movies and TV shows to know what was about to happen next. 

"... Beetlejuice...?" Lydia barely squeaked out, with a wince. 

How was she going to explain away THIS one?! 

* * *

::To Be Continued:: 

Chapter Text

It was in that moment did Lydia finally understand why Beetlejuice seemingly lost any ability to fly whenever a sand worm was around. That sheer panic and terror; one's brain screaming "danger, DANGER!" while struggling to keep a cool head and coherent mind. The girl's own panicked mind was ringing in her ears while her heart nearly burst from her chest. She needed to get out of here! Go where these things couldn't get her. Yet her attempts to levitate off the ground fizzled and snuffed out of existence as the alarming number of zombies began to close in on her. 

Lydia felt her face, realizing that her own undead mask had receded, "Oh no..." 

It was as if a switch had flipped and suddenly, she was now on the menu! Goth child special served up with a field green salad!

"Babes!" came Beetlejuice's familiar, gravely voice, right from behind her, "I love what you've done to the place!" 

A startled scream left Lydia's mouth once she was lifted into the air by her ghostly companion. A few of the zombies tried to grab at the girl, only managing to tear at her clothes with their sharp claws. 

"Hey! This breather is taken, numbskull!" Beetlejuice hissed, glaring down at the groaning fiend below, "Find yer own best friend!" 

The terrified mortal clung to her ghostly companion, praying that she wouldn't slip from his hold. 

"B-Beetlejuice... t-this... THIS-!" Lydia gulped audibly, eyes wide and terrified as she looked around. 

The undead horde had shown little interest in Beetlejuice, but seemed intent on having the young goth for dinner, now that she no longer wore her grotesque mask. 

Beetlejuice set her down on top of a stone mausoleum, overlooking the cemetery. A relatively safe and fortified position those things couldn't reach. Lydia took in several deep breaths, regaining her sense of composure and reason. There were more of these things than she'd care to count. Dozens? A hundred? Just one could easily be a problem! 

"This-this is bad... really bad!" Lydia panted, grasping the hair on the side of her head. 

She let out a gasp as her hat fell off, drifting down to the zombie-infested ground below. 

"Lyds, I don't see what the problem is," Beetlejuice shrugged, before taking a deep inhale of the rotting stench, "looks and smells fine to me!" 

"Maybe in the Neitherworld, Beej!" Lydia snapped, opening up her grimoire, "Besides, you saved me from that one trying to make me a snack!" 

"Awwww, I think that zombie just wanted a hug," Beetlejuice shrugged, before frowning and letting out a low growl. 

The poltergeist approached the edge of the stone structure, his appearance darkening as he shouted, "HANDS OFF MY LYDS, YA SLOBBERING BASTARDS! YA HEAR?!" 

His appearance returned to normal, although it quickly became apparent that it was not letting slip his vulgar tongue that had caused his precious Lydia to lose any remaining color in her skin. Horrified, the young girl met Beetlejuice's pale yellow gaze. 

"What's wrong, babes?" 

"B-BJ... I-I don't have the counter spell..." croaked Lydia, her throat feeling painfully dry, "w-when Claire tore out the pages, she must have taken the one that has the reversal!" 

At once, Beetlejuice's pointed ears pinned back at the mention of that name, "Wait-! Claire Brewster -?! She did WHAT now?!"

"That's what I was trying to tell you, Beej. I didn't summon these zombies! Claire did..." 

The young girl heaved a heavy sigh, "Whoever wrote this book warns several times not to read a spell out loud unless you intend to use it. But you know how well Claire Brewster listens." 

Of course, Beetlejuice just shrugged, clapping his hands together like this was no big deal. 

"Well, I mean, it's not like anyone got bit or nothin'," he chuckled, his smile quickly fading when Lydia winced, "Lyds...?"

Before she could tell him about the terrible fate that befell Peggy, both Lydia and Beetlejuice noticed that the horde began to shamble out of the cemetery, attracted by the sounds of the nearby festival in town! (Filled with unsuspecting, not to mention tasty, schmucks!)

"Oh no... Beej, we need to do something now!" cried Lydia, eyes wide with horror as she pointed frantically towards the direction of town.

Of course, what happened next was inevitable; Beetlejuice had always been extremely protective of Lydia... but cared little for the plights of others. 

"Yer right, babes!" he nodded, draping his arm across her shoulder, "Just say the magic B-words and we're blowin' this pop stand!" 

"BEETLEJUICE!! That is not what I meant!" the girl snapped, whipping around to face her friend, "Downtown is about to become an all-you-can-eat buffet for those things! My parents are at that festival! We can't just leave them!" 

An audible groan left Beetlejuice's chest as he rolled his eyes. Seriously, he'd have been just FIIIIIINE with watching this scenario unfold for at least the next three hours to see how it played out. 

"Let me guess, it's going to be one of THOOOOOOOSE episodes?" he asked, with audible snarkiness, "Where we do the heroic and right thing? Cram in some sort of moral as an added bonus?" 

Leveling her unwavering, steely glare at the ghost, Lydia answered with a stern, flat, "Yup!" 

At once, the poltergeist's shoulders slumped as his ears folded back like a puppy that had just been scolded, "I was afraid you'd say that, babes..." 

Well, no sense in worrying about missing spell book pages or the ravenous horde preparing to turn Peaceful Pines into a take-out joint. Nothing a snap of the fingers and shaking the juice loose couldn't fix. Right? However, while the buzz of wildly chaotic magic filled the air, it harmlessly bounced right off of the undead. A few of them clumsily glanced around while others shambled on obliviously. 

"Ummm... Beetlejuice?" questioned Lydia. 

"Hey, you saw that, babes!" the ghost defended himself, "I thought I'd turn them into cute, woodland animals... I know how much you like those-hey Lyds! Yer book!" 

"Huh?!"

Confused, Lydia glanced down at her grimoire, noticing the momentary sheen of red that shimmered over the front and back before it returned to normal. Abruptly, it flung itself open, startling Lydia and causing her to let out a frightened yelp. A closer look at the page it turned itself to, where Claire had damaged it, there was a bright green sticky note, with an arrow pointing towards the missing page, reading, 'Printing error! Makes summoned undead heavily resistant to all forms of magic except the banishment on page 74. (I need to have a word with my editor!)'

"WHAT?!" both Beetlejuice and Lydia yelped, in unison. 

The young girl grit her teeth, realizing that she and her companion's most powerful weapons weren't going to be much use against these things. And, just as she had checked before, pages 73, 74, and 75 were missing, "Who wrote this book?!" 

A very good question, but one that would have to wait for another time; especially once the screaming began. Already, her heart was pounding in her chest; this small, podunk town didn't stand a chance! 

They had a plan in mind. A great plan! Find Claire Brewster. Retrieve the pages that she stole. Banish the magic-proof zombies back to their graves. Stop Peaceful Pines from becoming a free-for-all. 

Simple. Right? 

*   *   *

Meanwhile, the oblivious crowd back in town continued to enjoy the festival, (or in the case of some, simply tolerate it for the sake of the people they cared about.) 

Once again, Delia was in one of her 'phases', watching what could only be described as an interpretive dance of some sort that involved a multitude of clanging garbage can lids and long metal poles. Charles had simply stopped trying to assign logic and sense at this point and just followed his wife around. 

"This is the visual representation of the frustration and torture one goes through in order to craft a masterpiece!" sighed Delia, as the 'artist' repeatedly bashed a metal pole against a severely dented garage can lid. 

Charles just quirked an eyebrow, "Huh, looks like a tantrum and a headache if you ask me." 

Before Delia could explain the finer points and "meanings" behind such a strange and wonderful performance, she was interrupted by shrill, panicked screams cutting through the mess of people gathered in the streets. 

"Out of my way! AH!! Like, where's my limo?! I need to get out of here now!!" Claire screeched, as she shoved her way through the crowd. 

Regina stumbled after the blonde, sporting the 'thousand yard stare' of someone reliving their deepest, darkest trauma. 

She grasped the collar of Charles' shirt, panting heavily while murmuring, "They're awake..."

"What? Who?"

Growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, Charles gingerly pried the girl off of him. 

"...The dead... they're coming to take us all..." 

"REGINA!!" Claire snipped, looking back over her shoulder. 

As the blonde and her cronie shoved their way through the throng of confused and curious people, hollering and screaming nonsense, Delia checked up on her husband, a puzzled look on her face. 

"Charles, dear, what was all that about?" 

The middle-aged man fought to keep his composure as the panic began to set in, "We need to find Lydia!" 

Of course, Delia thought it was all just part of the act; afterall they'd run into that ghastly troop of scare actors earlier in the day. (Surprisingly nice individuals beneath all that latex and fake blood.) 

"I think those are just a few of Lydia's little friends from school, dear." 

Although, there was something to be said about the way that guy, Chad, ran after Claire and Regina, screaming like a banshee while shoving his dreadfully pale sister off of him. 

"N-no... don't l-leave me... Ch-Chad... Claire... C-Chaaaarrrghhhh..." 

Peggy collapsed in the street in a heap, some onlookers cheering and clapping, others showing genuine concern, and more simply ignoring her. While Delia was initially praising the girl on such a dramatic performance, Charles was quick to point out the bloody tears and chunks of flesh missing from her ankle. 

That was just about when the overwhelming wave of stench hit them. Like flesh gone rotten under the heat of a Summer's day. The music abruptly stopped, although loud snarls and growls could be heard over confused murmurings. Next came the screams. 

In a flash, Peggy's eyes opened, revealing a dead, pale milky gaze. She bared her teeth and hissed, lunging for Charles with aggressive speed. 

"Gggghaaaahhhh!!! Delia, dear... I don't think this is part of the show!" Charles shouted, grabbing his wife in an attempt to pull her away from the salivating monster before them. 

*   *   *

To quote one of the more recent zombie movies of the modern age, "It's amazing how quickly things can go from bad to total shit storm!" 

Beetlejuice took a firm hold of Lydia, vanishing from the top of the mausoleum and reappearing with her as far into downtown as he dared. They reappeared in a narrow alley behind a dumpster, in between a Cantonese restaurant and a small antiques store. It took the girl a moment to steady herself from the rapid teleportation, not that it did much good once the noxious stench of rotting flesh hit her nose. All around, the ruined remains of the outdoor festival decorations and performance props littered the ground. Blood and gore carelessly splattered everywhere like a crime scene. Oh yes, and the panicked masses running around like headless chickens while the dead feasted. 

"W-we're already too late..." Lydia gasped, instinctively moving closer to her friend. 

She had no idea what had happened to her parents. Were they bitten? Did they manage to escape? What if they were still looking for her?! But amongst the absolute pandemonium ripping Peaceful Pines apart, it would be impossible to tell. 

Beetlejuice gently pushed the girl back up against the wall of the building, watching one of the fiends shuffle forward before it abruptly turned to nibble on a more appealing appetizer. 

"Babes, I hate tah tell ya, but if my juice ain't workin' against these things-!" 

The poltergeist paused, his pale yellow eyes flashing when he noticed that the pentagram on the cover of Lydia's grimoire was... shifting; much like the needle of a compass. 

"Lyds..." 

"It-it hasn't done that before..." Lydia mentioned, her hands trembling while running her fingers over the embossed cover. 

A cold chill ran up and down Lydia's spine. Swallowing the strong urge to vomit that had been building up, the girl glanced up at her friend, "I don't know what it could mean... but we need to find my parents... and those stolen pages." 

"Stay with me, babes," Beetlejuice growled, peaking around the corner, "if any of those hasbeens come near ya, you juice yerself into the Neitherworld! Got it?!" 

"No, Beej-" Lydia began, silencing when the poltergeist's pale yellow hair turned green and his teeth sharpened into points. 

"Lyds... that was before we found out our sorcery don't work on these sad excuses for flesh bags with a serious case of the munchies!" 

He kept his voice down to a low, whispering hiss, but Lydia could sense his fear; fear of losing her to those ravenously starved corpses. The girl quieted down and nodded, following Beetlejuice's lead once they had an opening to move. Anxiously, Lydia scanned the crowd for her parents, but with people running, being tackled to the ground, and various feeding frenzies erupting sporadically, it was impossible to tell where they were at the moment. 

Quickly, the young girl grabbed her phone, sending her parents a quick text, 'Where are you?'

The fact that she wasn't getting an answer back right away immediately caused her heart rate to spike.

*   *   *

As the mortal and ghost duo sneaked their way through the destroyed remnants of the arts festival, the sheer carnage these things caused in such a small amount of time could clearly be seen. 
So far, they'd done a good job of being neither seen nor eaten, slinking around back alleyways, taking cover behind dumpsters. Every so often, Lydia would glance down at her Necronomican, noticing the top point of the pentagram rotating towards the North side of town. 

"Hey Beej," whispered Lydia, jumping with a start when she heard someone let out a scream. 

Some poor schmuck, obviously one of the performers based on what he was wearing, crawled along the ground. He reached out towards the two of them, only to be pounced on and mauled by two other zombies. Magic crackled around Beetlejuice's fingertips, but it was already too late for that poor, unfortunate bastard. Quickly, the ghost hugged Lydia to him, having her bury her face against his magenta dress shirt so that she didn't see everything. 

"Babes... I-I'm sorry..." 

It was a hard truth to accept; they couldn't save everyone. But just maybe Deels and Chuckie could be spared from this Bedlam. 

Then there was another; this zombie, covered in splotches of brightly colored paint. Lydia recognized him from earlier that day. He'd been performing with the paint filled water balloons! Now, his skin tight leotard was shredded from where he'd been bit multiple times. That drooling, open maw. Milky, pale gaze... zeroed in on Lydia. 

"Lyds! Stay behind me," hissed Beetlejuice, placing himself between her and that overly curious zombie. 

The walking corpse hissed, Beetlejuice hissed right back, expelling a plume of green smoke from his nostrils as he did. Puffing himself up, the ghost altered his appearance, becoming far more grotesque and intimidating. While the zombie didn't seem to acknowledge the other undead, it simply sniffed the air a few times, shuffling off once it lost Interest. 

As the zombie left, Lydia noticed that it was awkwardly dragging it's left leg; someone else had wounded it, perhaps with a baseball bat or another blunt weapon. Perhaps these things could be fended off after all. 

"Beetlejuice... I think it was... trying to smell for... me," Lydia mentioned, holding back the rough cough burning in her throat, "but they don't seem interested in you at all."

"Hey, I'm already dead," shrugged the ghost, "but you-hey! That ghoul-face of yer's, Lyds-"

A loud, gravely hiss right in Beetlejuice's ear caused him to let out a startled, high pitched yelp. This new zombie, however, was simply trying to push him out of the way in order to get to Lydia. 

"Hey corpse breath! Think of a number between one and ten!" Beetlejuice snarled, displaying his sharpened, red talons, "Was it two!!?" 

In a quick move, the poltergeist struck, jabbing both of the zombie's pale, milky eyes with his fingers. Upon withdrawing his hand, he'd taken it's eyeballs, which were now reduced to a slippery, slimy mess. 

"Babes!" 

"I'm trying... ughhh, I did it earlier, come on, come on!" 

As Lydia tried to force herself to transform, Beetlejuice grabbed her by the arm and guided her through the mess. All of that noise and activity attracted unwanted attention, as more and more of the zombies turned to see what the fuss was about. 

"M-maybe one of those shops?!" Lydia suggested, struggling against the lightheadedness that began to take her over. 

It was a common trope in zombie movies and shows; finding a secure place to barricade yourself inside, hunkering down to regroup. Then again, another equally common scenario was to find yourselves surrounded! Like what just happened right now! Opening up the nearest shop to seek shelter only for about twenty more of those things to come pouring out like a bloody clown car! (A joke so dreadful, Scuzzo would have loved it!) 

"Oh shit..." cursed the spectre, not even bothering to cover Lydia's ears this time. 

The amount of overlapping groans and snarls became disorienting; Lydia could no longer remember which direction they were even going, only that several grimy hands were reaching out to grab her! 

"Babes, juice yerself outta here NOW!" Beetlejuice ordered, his raspy voice serious for the first time. 

He pulled Lydia in close, wide, golden glowing eyes filled with fear. Already the ghost could feel the tug of his name, called with purpose once. Then twice. And finally... a grotesque hand grasped around the young girl's shoulder, violently ripping her away from her guardian. Lydia found herself freezing up, overcome by terror as that last little B-word dried up on the tip of her tongue.

"Don't you fu-!" was as far as Beetlejuice got when the offending undead went ridgid. 

A whistle through the air, a spatter of blackened blood, and a stout bolt to the eye was all it took to fell the creature. The one responsible, (honestly looking like one of those weekend warrior types all decked out in tactical camo and body armor,) was already reloading his hunting crossbow.

"What in the hell are you two doing out here?!" he called out, firing his second bolt, "Come on!"

He gestured for them to come with him, drawing another bolt back in his weapon. The 'weekend warrior' ran out into the street, giving a sharp whistle as he did. 

There was the sound of banging metal upon metal along with two familiar voices shouting, attracting the curiosity of the horde. 

"Prudence and Bertha?!" Lydia whispered to herself, in just as much shock and disbelief as Beetlejuice was. 

Her two usually mild-mannered friends from school were decked out in whatever protective gear they'd scavenged up. Armed with garbage can lids as shields along with a crowbar and what looked like a police baton, the two of them baited and beat back the ravenous undead. (Not only giving Beetlejuice and Lydia their opening, but also working out some of their other unresolved issues at the same time.) 

"Lydia?" , "Mr. Beetleman?" Bertha and Prudence questioned, simultaneously. 

"Good! You all know each other!" shouted the stranger, as he raised his crossbow to fire again, "Bertha, Prudence, guard their flanks and fall back! Fall back!!" 

"You guys are alright!?" gasped Lydia, as she ran. 

"Sure we are! Lucky we met him!" Bertha mentioned, jogging beside Lydia while Prudence took Beetlejuice's side. 

"He's dangerous, just like us!" 

The much smaller redhead pushed up her glasses, displaying that unhinged look in her eyes; like she was using these zombies to work out some of her personal matters. 

Beetlejuice couldn't help but grin; he'd always liked those two, even if he'd never say it out loud. The spectre may not have been armed, but when no eyes were on him, he quickly grasped at his throat, energy crackling around his fingertips as he literally threw his voice into the riled up horde. 

"HEY! I'M OVER HERE! NAH, NAH, NAH, NAH, NAH!!! COME AND GIT IT, YA SORRY FLESH BAGS!!" 

"Good thinking, BJ!" Lydia said, managing a smile and nod.

With the zombies momentarily stilling with confusion, trying to locate the no doubt tasty origin of that taunting voice, it was just the break they needed. 

Lydia and Beetlejuice ducked into the local hardware store, as directed by Bertha. The stranger covered their retreat with another bolt from his crossbow before drawing a large Bowie knife and taking out any zombies that wandered in too close via hand to hand combat. 

*   *   *

Maitland's Hardware may not have been the Ritz, but there were far worse places to be held up in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. In typical, old small town fashion, it was one of those places that had the store front and public access on the ground floor, and personal living space in the loft upstairs. If anything else, the wide selection of plywood made boarding up any windows and doors easy, along with having all the tools on hand one would need to do it efficiently. Although the aisles were quite narrow, making quarters rather cramped. 

"I didn't even know you two were here!" mentioned Lydia, hugging her two friends close. 

"We were trying to find you... then, well..." sighed Bertha. 

"At least Mr. Beetleman was with you," added Prudence. 

Lydia took this chance, asking if either of them had seen her parents. If only she knew if it was good or bad that they hadn't. Maybe her parents made it out! But if they had, why didn't they call or text her? A comforting hand fell upon her shoulder, followed by Beetlejuice's gravely voice, 

"We'll find them, Lyds. You think I'm letting these flesh moochers take my favorite prank victims?" 

That at least, managed to get a bit of a laugh out of the worried girl. 

Apparently, most of the festival attendees just thought it was all some sort of elaborate act... up until body parts began flying and blood painted the streets red. According to Bertha and Prudence, their mysterious benefactor swooped in out of nowhere once the zombies began attacking. They were lucky enough to be the first people he'd saved before everything spiraled into chaos. Sadly, the small town's police force had not been so lucky. But hey, they got some cool gear out of it!

Prudence was coming down from her adrenaline high, taking a seat behind the counter. There was a peephole left in the boards over the window; apparently, this was their lookout post. 

"These things defy all that we know about science!" the little redhead stated, grabbing a notepad and pen out from under the counter, "Yet it would be unscientific to deny what I'm seeing with my own eyes." 

Meanwhile, Bertha and the 'weekend warrior' placed a heavy bar of wood in front of the door, like one would find in a medieval castle.

"Don't worry, that should hold them," the man panted, taking a moment to wipe the sweat and grime from his brow, "at least until the plot demands otherwise." 

From beneath his messy mane, Beetlejuice's pointed ears twitched; WHAT did he just hear?!

"Hey, what's this guy doin'?" he hissed, quietly, "Seriously, Lyds! Makin' jokes and talkin' to the readers is MY job!"

Smiling nervously, Lydia lightly elbowed Beetlejuice in his pudgy gut before muttering, "And he just saved my life and your afterlife! He has also been protecting Prudence and Bertha."

The stranger in question was struggling to catch his breath, loading his weapon once more. Although he had apparently overheard them. 

"The name's Ash. Housewares," he introduced, taking his position by the door.

"Bertha... could you uhhh... perimeter sweep, please."

"He's hot and he kills monsters," Bertha muttered, leaning towards Lydia with an excited look on her face, "just like the hunks in my mother's romance novels!" 

Oh yes, Lydia had read a bit of those books Bertha liked to bring to sleepovers. (Just a bit before her pale skin was flushing red.) But then again, at least those books didn't summon an entire zombie apocalypse!

Every so often, there was a violent pounding at the door. A firm reminder of the horrors that awaited outside. 

"T-thank you... for saving us..." the young goth managed to squeak out, "I'm Lydia, and this is Beetle-er-Mr. Beetleman." 

She quickly caught herself; this guy had taken out several zombies on his own. Just what would he do if he found out that he'd given shelter to a poltergeist?! 

"Don't mention it kid," Ash said, with a nod, "but what the hell were you two doing? Sneaking IN to a zombie infestation?!" 

At once, Beetlejuice was on guard, instinctively placing himself between Lydia and this armed stranger. Just how in the Neitherworld did that breather know THAT!!?

"Hey, I think the better question is why were you at a performance arts festival with a crossbow and pig sticker?" he countered, narrowing his pale yellow gaze. 

Ash paused for a moment, keeping his cool yet unaware of the fact that his quickening heartbeat gave him away. Beetlejuice could sense the tinge of fear, like this guy was hiding something he didn't want found out. 

"Because it makes me feel good, like Daryl Dixon," answered Ash, flashing a smarmy smirk, "you two might wanna go upstairs, get cleaned up. Never know when you'll get another chance. We can swap back stories in the next chapter." 

A low, rumbling growl left Beetlejuice's throat. However, before he could do anything foolish, Lydia was already pulling him back, a nervous flush on her face. 

"Good idea, Mr. Ash. Thanks again!" 

"Williams... Ash Williams..." 

The man gave another cocky grin, watching in mild amusement as Lydia led Beetlejuice away, by his tie, in a bit of a hurry. 

"He's doin' MY thing again, babes!"

"Shush, BJ!"

Once those two were out of sight, Ash exhaled heavily, eyes wide. 

"Holy fucking shit... it can't be!" he muttered, under his breath. 

*   *   * 

As the two shuffled their way upstairs, Beetlejuice threw one last glance over his shoulder, growling deep in his throat. 

"Still convinced those zombies just want a hug, Beej?" Lydia panted, finally having a moment to catch her breath. 

"No... not really..." admitted Beetlejuice, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder, "but that Ash guy... oooooh... he knows something!" 

For as much as Lydia wanted to say something to the contrary, there was something extremely suspicious about him. From Beetlejuice pointing out how well armed he was for a festival attendee to Bertha's account of the "crossbow wielding hunk" coming in out of nowhere in a blaze of glory. 

"Ash Williams... I know I've heard that name before..." 

*   *   * 

Meanwhile, deep within the desolate underbelly of the Neitherworld, Lady Prescott could already feel it. More and more, she was feeling like her old self again. Soon, she and her hounds would be able to abandon this dump and claim something more suitable for a being of her prestige. 

"Mistress... Beelzebub and Leviathan have reported from the Living Realm... the child... she..." Dante began, before Riley put up her hand. 

"Hmhmhm... that's where you're mistaken, darling. Our precious little warlock did NOT summon that swarm of mindless maggot traps," she corrected, before growling out, "some other clueless snip did!" 

Dante expelled a plume of smoke from his nostrils as his eyes flashed red, "I've watched her train with that idiot patron of her's, mistress! The child's not ready for this!" 

"Lydia Deetz is more powerful than you know. Look, my darling..." 

A wicked grin crossed the woman's face as a fierce red flame ignited in her hand, "See? As patron and warlock have no choice but to keep using that Necronomican if they wish to survive... I'll keep growing stronger."

Dante backed up, bowing his head respectfully, "Forgive me, My Lady. It is not my place to question you." 

The demonic entity just chuckled softly, gesturing for her hell hound to come up to her. Dante obeyed, sitting down by Riley's side as she stroked his smooth, soot black fur. 

"I learned long ago that sometimes it's a good thing to have those you trust most challenge your motives," she mentioned, scratching beneath the hound's chin, "just remember to never do so in front of the lesser dogs!" 

That last bit was hissed with a hint of venom dripping off her tongue, "Now then, have Beelzebub and Leviathan continue to observe but do NOT engage," she commanded, "I'm curious how well the child will handle a genuine life and death situation." 

*   *   *

::To Be Continued::

Chapter Text

It just felt wrong to be in the upstairs loft; Maitland's Hardware had always been open to the public, but the second floor was always off limits. However, in a zombie apocalypse, all of the usual rules of society were off. Turned upside down. Thrown out the window. 

There wasn't much up there, just a small living area with a kitchenette, a bedroom, and bathroom. Oddly enough, it was the loss of reliable indoor plumbing Lydia had always feared the most about a zombie apocalypse... at least right up until the moment one of those things nearly took a chunk out of her. 

As she cleaned off the sticky black blood she didn't realize was even clinging to her earlier, Lydia took in a shaky breath, "I... I completely understand now why you have trouble using your magic around sand worms, Beej." 

A genuinely sympathetic look crossed Beetlejuice's face, while he conjured a towel for his friend once she was done. 

"The fear takes over. Your mind knows what to do, but you just freeze up." 

On cue, the ghost abruptly covered himself in a layer of frost, accompanied by a chilling wind as he shivered. Although his friend smiled, he could tell that she was still afraid. He'd not just seen, but he felt her desperation; intentionally triggering what she'd been trying to keep concealed. The sheer terror of when you need it most and there's no spark to ignite the flames. 

"It's not too late babes," he said, perking his ears, "say the three magic B-words and you're safe in the Neitherworld." 

"But what about Prudence and Bertha?" Lydia asked, "My parents? And even... -sigh- even that Ash guy." 

A low growl emanated from the poltergeist's throat at the mention of that name. There was something off about that breather he couldn't place, (and he didn't like it.) 

"Beetlejuice, he could have just left us out there," Lydia mentioned, gesturing towards the window. 

Ash and his makeshift crew hadn't gotten around to boarding up the loft windows; either no time or no need, as it was the ground floor where the serious danger lie. A quick look at the madness in the streets of downtown were a firm reminder of what nearly happened. 

"You were about to say that third B-word when he showed up..." the ghost muttered, disdainfully as he crossed his arms and pouted.

In the heat of the moment, with several of those things looking to make a meal out of her, Beetlejuice nearly got what he wanted; Lydia safely somewhere else. But now? It wasn't likely to happen. "The heroic and right" thing and all that. 

"We owe Ash as much," sighed Lydia, as she put a hand on Beetlejuice's shoulder. 

The ghost turned to her, eyes momentarily glowing as his fists clenched, "As much as what, Lyds?"

With a wave of her hand, the young goth called her grimoire to her. (Of course, now that she wasn't about to be eaten, her juice worked just fine!) She'd always been so careful; keeping Beetlejuice's magic a secret. Then her own! Now, Lydia was suggesting telling a well armed stranger about the magic book that started all this chaos?! 

Yeah, already Lydia could tell that her ghostly companion wasn't exactly thrilled about this idea. 

"Beetlejuice, what's a breather with a simple crossbow against The Ghost with the Most?" suggested Lydia, managing to get a clever smirk out of the spectre. 

* * *

Against all better judgement, Lydia and Beetlejuice returned downstairs with intent. So far, all was quiet, save for the occasional 'knock' or 'thump' of a zombie shuffling by. According to Prudence, the frenzy had calmed down as the fiends milled around in search of easier prey. Bertha reported that the fortifications near the back of the store were holding steady, at least for the time being. And there, stationed near the door with the loaded crossbow in his lap was Ash; just waiting for one of those things to try and break in. 

While the poltergeist and zombie hunter locked eyes, if only for a moment or two, Lydia approached the counter with her friends. 

"Hey Lydia," Bertha questioned, keeping her voice down, "why were you and Mr. Beetleman sneaking IN when there are all those gross, nasty zombies here?" 

Prudence nodded in agreement, just barely able to lean against the counter, given her short stature, "And what's that you've got there?" she inquired, standing on her chair in order to get a better look, "You were holding onto it when those impolite mush-for-brains attacked." 

Wanting to get it over with, Lydia set the grimoire down on the counter, "This... is what we need in order to stop this whole thing... or at least, the pages that Claire stole," she began, opening up the book, showing where the pages had been torn. 

A look of startled recognition crossed Ash's face as he shot up from his seat to take a look. Beetlejuice was already sliding in, keeping himself between that trigger-happy huntsman and Lydia. 

"Where did you get something like this?" Ash inquired, closing the grimoire momentarily. 

"It... was a gift."

Lydia swallowed the dry lump in her throat, keeping one hand upon the spell book. 

He wasn't saying anything, but his eyes were following the movements of the pentagram as it sporadically pointed in different, seemingly random directions. 

"So you can see it?" Beetlejuice growled, suspiciously. 

"See what, Mr. Beetleman?" asked Bertha, as she and Prudence were trying to figure out just what he was talking about. 

"That the co-" Lydia was about to answer, before Beetlejuice gently but firmly gave her a nudge. 

Quickly, the poltergeist flipped back to page 72, indicating to where the next three pages were missing, "This. Where that little bi-er-brat, Claire Brewster, tore out some pages." 

Lydia spilled the proverbial beans about what happened in the cemetery; how she was minding her own business, taking a break from the festivities when Claire and her posse rolled in. Strangely enough, Ash was willing to listen, even up to and past the absurdity of that other girl intentionally vandalizing Lydia's property. How that foolish bottle-blonde read the spell out loud despite being warned not to. 

"It says right here," the young goth mentioned, flipping to the front where it clearly warned, 'Do NOT speak these spells out loud unless you intend to use them!' 

Bertha and Prudence both grumbled; figured as much! That Claire would have had something to do with this! 

"Hey, come to think of it, just before those zombies showed up, I saw Claire running through the festival," mentioned Bertha, with an agreeing nod from Prudence. 

"She was screaming that Lydia had summoned monsters in the cemetery," continued the short redhead, "but I refuse to believe that you'd ever do anything like that!" 

Well, at least intentionally. It was no secret that Lydia loved the strange and unusual. However, the groaning snarls and 'thump' , 'pound' , 'thud' along with the shuffling of feet served as a firm reminder that this went far beyond "strange and unusual" and straight into the stratosphere of ancient and terrifying horrors! 

Of course, Ash turned to Beetlejuice, either admiring or scrutinizing him; quite a snappy dresser, that one, all things considered. 

"So, where do you fit into all of this?" 

"Oh... ummm, Mr. Beetleman does odd jobs all over town," Lydia explained, "if he didn't show up in the cemetery when he did, I'd probably be dead." 

Well, not the WHOLE truth, but not entirely a lie either. 

"That's me, Mr. Beetleman. Handy dandy handyman," Beetlejuice said, straightening out his suit lapels, "King of the Drips, Exterminator Extraordinaire, Best with Pests. Know what I mean?" 

Both Prudence and Bertha confirmed, Mr. Beetleman was an odd and eccentric figure known around town; some might even say he flitted in and out like a ghost. Usually any time you might have needed assistance with some sort of odd-job, the overly perky and strangely charismatic handyman would be around. 

"So, we've got an exceptionally stylish handyman, zombies roaming around this small town, an idiot reading spells she shouldn't have access to, and the key to putting the lid on this whole mess lies within the stolen pages of this book owned by a teenager," Ash listed off, emphasizing each point with a slap of his hand on the counter, "am I missing anything?"

Beetlejuice glanced at Lydia real quick, "Nah! I think everyone reading gets the gist of what's at stake."  

Ash appeared to be weighing his options; to be fair, it was an absurd explanation. But sometimes, absurdity is all one has. 

"Well I ain't got a better explanation for these damn things," he shrugged, quirking an eyebrow at Lydia, "why does this plot sound so alarmingly familiar? Magic books and zombies? Like dead that's just... evil." 

Oddly enough, this whole thing went far better than Lydia expected. Which was suspicious in and of itself. Unfortunately, as the young goth was too busy releasing the sigh of relief she hadn't realized that she was holding this entire time, Beetlejuice was already pulling Ash aside, down one of the aisles. 

* * *

"You could see it moving! The marking on the cover of that grimoire," Beetlejuice hissed, narrowing his gaze. 

"That's not all I can see," Ash said, keeping his voice dangerously calm, "your slick tricks may fool these country bumpkins, but I know you ain't human!" 

This immediately caused Beetlejuice's hackles to raise as his eyes involuntarily flashed bright gold. Was this it? Was he going to have to do something drastic and/or stupid in order to protect Lydia? (Maybe 'Burp' and 'Prune' if he had the time.)

With a clever smirk, Ash calmly mentioned what he'd seen earlier; how the zombies didn't seem to pay "Mr. Beetleman" any mind. They reached around him in order to grab Lydia. Speaking of which, a young girl wandering around with a book full of necromantic spells? There couldn't have been too many of those running around these days. Could there? Most strange.

"And finally," Ash pointed down at Beetlejuice's shoes, "those heels are way too fabulous to be worn while working manual, outdoor labor." 

"I don't know if I should take that as a threat or a compliment," Beetlejuice hissed, holding a red talon up to the annoyingly observant breather's face, "but you did save Lydia's life! So I'll give ya that."

He wasn't saying it, but the message was loud and clear; stop pushing! (And don't you DARE speak a word of this!)

Ash remained quiet, but he'd seen just how protective this "Beetleman" character was of Lydia. Never straying far from her. (Even now, he'd chosen a place where he had a clear view of the girl.) Currently, Lydia was going over something in her grimoire with Bertha and Prudence. 

"You care about her. Greatly," observed Ash, "you'd toss me to the horde without a second thought if it meant keeping her safe." 

A low growl left Beetlejuice's throat as the tips of his hair turned green, "Your words, breather, not mine!" 

Tempting though the thought may be, his precious Lyds would never approve of such a thing. (But this Ash guy didn't know that, now did he?) The poltergeist held his bluff; if this human knew what was good for him, he'd back down. 

"I wouldn't blame you. She seems like a good kid," Ash said, reminiscing for a moment, "reminds me of someone I know." 

That human couldn't even begin to comprehend what Lydia meant to Beetlejuice. She was everything kind and compassionate; his best friend. But sometimes... his Lydia tried so hard to see the good in everyone, she'd lose sight of her own safety. Thankfully, The Ghost with the Most was always there to watch her back. 

"Hmph, somewhat suspicious that you sprang out of nowhere as soon as the zombie apocalypse begun," Beetlejuice mused, inching closer into Ash's personal space, "I for one don't think it's a coincidence." 

There was a reason this "weekend warrior" picked here and now to suddenly show his face in Peaceful Pines; and figuring out just what it was may just become the poltergeist's new afterlife's mission. 

"Seems that we both have secrets we'd rather not have advertised," mentioned Ash, with a shrug, "but for better or for worse, we're on the same team," he leaned in closer, "at the very least, you haven't tried to bite me yet." 

Beetlejuice relaxed, if only a little, "Then what is all this about? Tension for the readers?" 

"More than likely." 

"Yer doin' it again!" 

"Huh, you're just a regular Deadpool, ain'tcha?" teased the human. 

"So what if I'm dead?" Beetlejuice snorted, indignantly fixing his lapels, "And I hate water!" 

"I could tell," Ash muttered, under his breath.

The poltergeist let out another low growl, expelling a faint plume of green smoke from his nostrils. 

"Just who or what the hell are ya, anyway?" 

"I'm a deep cover operative working for a top secret organization that deals in the capture, removal, and assistance of entities of both supernatural and magical nature," answered the human. 

It took Beetlejuice a moment or two before he finally spit out a laugh. Ash's deadpan expression broke as he began snickering and shaking his head. 

"Ooooh sure you are," snorted the ghost, his gravely, raspy voice rife with sarcasm, "good one!" 

"Come on, I almost had you there, didn't I?!" Ash questioned, slipping around the spectre and heading back to join the others. 

Yeah, a likely story. Just slightly less believable than a spell book conjuring a massive small town disaster. (But at the very least, there was proof of that if you simply took a look out the window.) 

"Guess we'll just have to trust each other, Beej."

Trust... who was he kidding?! For all Beetlejuice knew, this guy could betray him and Lydia in the third act. Or perhaps, this Ash Williams may be the guy who throws himself into the horde of flesh eaters in order to hold them off. But not knowing for certain was driving the ghost absolutely MAD!

"Mr. Williams!" Prudence called, urgently, "There are survivors outside!" 

Immediately, Ash was strictly back to business, even going as far as to make sure Beetlejuice was behind him when he raised his crossbow. Bertha removed the wooden bar from the door, preparing to unlock it while Prudence gave a running play by play. 

"Oh wait, it's just-" she groaned, her voice disappointed right up until a startled yelp left her mouth. 

From outside, someone began frantically screaming and pounding on the door. Immediately, Lydia grabbed her grimoire and backed away from the counter. While Ash was giving instructions to Bertha and Prudence, Beetlejuice materialized right beside her. 

"We can't just leave them out there..." Lydia said, keeping her voice down. 

Of course, what happened next would prove to be a test of Lydia's good nature and desire to do what she knew in her heart was right. 

"Like, let me in NOW!!" screamed that all too familiar voice from the other side of the door, "Don't any of you know who I am?! These things are smelly and like, totally gross!! I'm too cute to be eaten!" 

"Claire Brewster..." Lydia, Prudence, and Bertha all groaned, at once 

* * * 

For as much as Lydia and her friends detested Claire, even she didn't deserve to satisfy a drooling corpse's raging case of munchies. (On that note, how had she even lasted this long?!) 

Ash gave Bertha the signal to open the door (and stay behind it, ready to shut and lock up just as quickly.) 

"Hmph, I'd have left it for five more minutes..." Beetlejuice scoffed under his breath, spitting an imagined foul taste from his mouth. 

"Beej... she's got the missing pages," Lydia reminded him, in a harsh whisper. 

Yeah; only "missing" in the first place because that little twit STOLE them!

Once the door was open, it was absolute pandemonium! Claire was screaming at the top of her lungs, shoving Regina and Chad out of the way as she ducked inside. 

"Close it, close it already!" she shrieked, despite the fact that the other two were still out there, "I'm like, totally the one who needs to be protected! Like, I'm rich and all!!" 

One zombie grasped ahold of Regina from behind, mouth open for a bite. There was a spatter of thick, black blood as the bolt from Ash's crossbow pierced through it's open maw, leaving the girl in a state of absolute shock. 

"We ain't keeping this door open forever, move it!" barked Ash, foregoing reloading and opting for his knife instead. 

He practically dragged Regina inside; less than gently, but it was a rather serious situation. Chad however, was not so fortunate. He let out a panicked scream as multiple fiends grabbed and bit, tearing off chunks of flesh as they did. Already, the poor guy's skin paled, veins pulsed greenish-black, while his eyes took on that milky sheen. 

"Well fuck!" Ash growled, slamming the door shut. 

Only... It didn't. Apparently, Chad and his new friends still wanted in. The freshly turned zombie stuck his arm through the door while the other nearby fiends began piling on top and shoving back. They snarled wordlessly, reaching out while snapping their jaws. 

"A LITTLE HELP OVER HERE!!" cried Ash, echoed by Prudence and Bertha while they shoved with all their might. 

"Chad?! No... not Chad..." Claire sobbed, stumbling back while wiping away her messy makeup, "He was hot and had the beer... oh well... better him than me."

The young teen completely ignored the frantic and terrified screams from Regina, finding her way up the stairs while putting as much distance between herself and those fiends outside as possible. 

Although horrified by Claire's blatant disregard for the sanctity of human life, Lydia ignored her for the time being as she nervously approached Ash and her friends to help. She didn't like to admit it, but these zombies scared her; they weren't like the ones in the Neitherworld. And they weren't like the ones in those movies and shows she liked to watch either. She couldn't just tell herself "it's just makeup and CGI." No, these were all to real. 

"Babes, if you get those pages from Little Miss Brewery up there..." 

A low hiss left Beetlejuice's mouth; he cast his pale yellow gaze down at Lydia, motioning for her to follow Claire while he remained behind to assist the others. The young goth nodded, glancing down at her grimoire; the pentagram was moving again, pointing... right at the stairs. 

With Lydia sent on her mission, Beetlejuice let out a snarl, sharpening his teeth and fixing the cufflinks on his dress shirt. 

"Alright you maggot-riddled flesh bags, the show's over!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Lydia could hear all of the commotion happening downstairs; all she needed was to get those pages. Get the pages, recite the counter spell, and the apocalypse would be over before dinnertime! 

It was a great plan!

The young goth watched as the pentagram on the cover of her book began twitching again, pointing directly at Claire the moment she ascended the stairs. 

"Ah-! Oh... you? Like, what are YOU doing here, Lydia?" 

"Same as you, trying not to be invited for dinner," answered Lydia, flatly. 

"I thought you liked this gross, creepy stuff!" Claire scoffed, wrinkling up her nose, "that's why you caused all of this in the first place, right? Why don't you like, do us all a favor and totally go join them, huh?!" 

Lydia clenched her fists in indignant anger, already feeling the pent up kinetic energy buzzing all around her, begging to be set loose, "I didn't cause ANY of this!" 

At her sudden burst of anger, the window behind Claire shattered abruptly, causing the other girl to let out a shriek. Lydia could still hear noises and shouting downstairs. They didn't have time for this petty quarrel! 

"Maybe I will join them out there," the young goth stated, as the furniture and small objects upstairs began to tremble, "But not before you give me back those pages you tore out of my book!" 

A look of startled realization crossed Claire's face. One, because she remembered that she did in fact still have "that magic voodoo" on her. And Two... she wasn't imagining things; Lydia WAS doing something far beyond her comprehension and understanding. 

"You... y-you really are a freak, Lydia," stammered Claire, pointing at the young goth, "w-witch... y-you really are a witch!" 

Despite her fear, the blonde narrowed her eyes as she definitely took the stolen pages out of her overpriced designer bag. 

Lydia desperately tried to calm herself down; this was a REALLY bad time to have an accidental discharge! 

"Claire... I know we've never been friends," Lydia began, biting back the tremble in her voice, "but I need those pages! There's a spell on them that can reverse everything! A recipe for a cure... I can heal the people that were bitten." 

Scoffing, Claire glanced over her shoulder, then back to Lydia, "That or you'll just like, turn ME into one of those things!"

A snide little sneer crossed the blonde's face. Just as Lydia calmed down her telekinetic outburst, Claire simply tossed the spell book pages out the open window. 

"You want your precious witch book pages back?" Claire stated, triumphantly while the very ticket to their salvation drifted in the slow, autumn breeze, "Go and get them, then!"

Lydia shook with seething rage; she knew Claire was a selfish little moron, but how could anyone POSSIBLY be this stupid?! 

"Do you realize what..." she hissed, unintentionally causing several small objects to fly across the room, "you've just done?!" 

Quickly losing control, Lydia could feel her muscles contorting and shifting. A quick look at the dresser mirror confirmed her fear; of course, NOW she conjured that grotesque corpse visage. Just... perfect!

Naturally, Claire's terrified scream was loud enough to wake the dead... unfortunately. 

 
*   *   *

At the moment, the downstairs of Maitland's Hardware was no Sunday picnic either. The multitude of zombies outside the door kept stacking up as more and more became curious about the commotion and scent of living beings. 

"You two... get out of here!" Ash shouted, glancing down at Prudence and Bertha. 

The two girls were reluctant to leave him to fend off these things alone, however such an order became easier to follow once they saw "Mr. Beetleman" stalking forward. 

"Yeah, yeah, just make sure that SHE doesn't do anything stupid!" he growled, gesturing towards the still mumbling Regina. 

The poltergeist gave Ash a look, as if to silently ask, 'was this worth it?!' 

"Nope!" answered the human, his thick-tread combat boots sliding along the hardwood floor as more zombies tried to pile past the door. 

Beetlejuice stood in the partially open threshold, uncaring about the grasping hands reaching inside. Thankfully, Prudence and Bertha had the good sense to take cover while Ash's line of sight remained partially hidden by the door. The groaning and snarling jaws slowed, replaced by confusion as the zombies scented the air. A faint, but noxious green fume permeated from Beetlejuice's body. While it reeked of death, decay, and something else, much like a skunk at a sewer plant, it had a calming and hypnotic effect on the slobbering flesh eaters. 

"There's no living here, ya mangy buggers! Try next door!" 

Just as the poltergeist's arm extended unnaturally, just enough to give Zombie Chad a shove to the forehead, there was the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. Thankfully, this was enough to distract the now confused mob outside, at least enough to finally close and lock that damn door! 

"Saved... by terrible B.O... that's a first for me," Ash panted, still covering his nose and trying not to cough, "thanks... Mr. Beetleman."

Despite the stench still lingering around Beetlejuice, Ash gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder before moving away from the now secured door and reclaiming his crossbow.

"Hey, flattery will only get'cha-" 

Beetlejuice cut himself off as the entire building trembled slightly in that moment, originating from upstairs. The high pitched scream that followed immediately pulled everyone's attention towards the stairs. 

A low growl rumbled in Beetlejuice's throat as his pointed ears involuntarily pinned back. He could feel the frantic beating of a living heart; not that little idiot's, Claire's, but the one he'd grown so used to feeling. He could taste the fear on the tip of his tongue, leaving a bitter dryness. 

Speaking of Claire, she was practically flying down the stairs, screaming her lungs out, followed by an equally frantic Lydia. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Ash whisper-snarled, while reloading his crossbow, "Do you want those things knocking on the front door-!"

'Pound' , 'Knock' , 'Crash!'

"Again...?!" finished Ash, with a low groan of his own. 

*   *   *

It was a free-for-all outside, and it was about to become one inside! Claire continued to stammer and shriek absolute nonsense while Ash, Beetlejuice, Prudence, and Bertha were telling her to keep her voice down. 

Regina, meanwhile, was having major flashbacks, "Why is she here? Loony Lydia... L-Lydia is one of them!"

"I-I just saw it myself... u-upstairs!" agreed Claire, pointing an accusatory finger at Lydia, "Like, throw her out now!! She started this whole gross mess!" 

Accusations and blame starts to fly as voices overlapped one another. 

"Did not!" , "Did too, it was her creepy book!" , "That's not how I heard it!" , "Shut up!" were only a few of the phrases so eloquently tossed around. 

"HEY!" Ash finally barked, with a stomp of his foot, "Let me remind you that this is my base of operation. I'm also armed! And until Lydia here starts trying to take a bite out of people, she stays!" 

Lydia jumped a little when Beetlejuice placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. The ghost could feel the power coursing throughout her veins, like electricity through a cable. 

"Talk to me babes, what's wrong?" questioned the ghost. 

"Claire... threw the pages out the window," confessed Lydia, "the reversal. The cure for the people bitten..." 

From the moment those words left her mouth, she could feel Beetlejuice's rage simmering to a boiling point. He no longer seemed to care about keeping up his "Mr. Beetleman" act, as the tips of his hair started turning green and kinetic energy trembled around him.

"She did WHAT?!" 

"Wait, wait, wait... let me get this straight, the magic voodoo that you STOLE from Lydia, that she needed to put the lid on this shit," Ash abbreviated, pointing at Claire while desperately trying to hold onto what little was left of his cool, "is now somewhere outside... amongst the ravenous horde of FUCKING UNDEAD?!" 

Usually, Beetlejuice would have snapped at anyone using such language out loud around his precious Lydia, but right now, all of his seething rage was directed at Claire Brewster. While the arguments started up again, Lydia took this moment to squeeze her friend's arm, shaking her head before he did something foolish. 

"I lost control again, Beej," she admitted, in a harsh whisper, "even after all we've done... I just got so angry..." 

"Lyds, it ain't'cher fault!" Beetlejuice growled, narrowing his gaze at the idiotic bottle-blonde that made it her life's ambition to torment his best friend. 

The knocking and pounding on the front door became louder and louder. 

"Do I have to shoot one of you two in the foot?" Ash questioned, glancing from Claire to Regina, "Would that get the point across?" 

Prudence and Bertha shared a look with each other; like while they knew it would have been overly mean, it was certainly well deserved. 

"But she's one of them!" Regina all but screamed.

Claire nodded in agreement, "I saw Loony Lydia turn all gross and nasty!" 

"If she's one of them, then answer me why those slovenly maggot snacks nearly ripped her from my arms!" Beetlejuice snarled, his teeth sharpening into fangs once more. 

He glanced towards Ash, giving a nod, "Ash over there saved Lydia from becoming a zombie Door Dash special and he saved your sorry asses as well!"

The ghost trailed off, mumbling to himself, "This is why I hate being driven to heroics. Especially in zombie episodes, there's always that one person..." 

Beetlejuice, at the very least had Lydia to keep him calm and centered; despite how much he wanted to go full poltergeist mode. (He'd easily make the inside this store much scarier than the zombies waiting outside!) 

Ash on the other hand had no such luxury. In a lightning fast motion, he fired his crossbow, just barely missing Claire's foot. He'd had enough of her! They were doing pretty well for themselves until he chose to do 'the right thing.' While the stunned girl's mouth opened and gaped like a fish out of water, Ash took this moment to take back the floor. 

"Listen here and listen well! I will put my trust into people who came INTO a zombie-infested hellhole to search for people they care about over a vapid, self-centered bitch any day of the fucking week!" he shouted, ripping the bolt out of the floor and holding the point up to Claire's face, "Don't think that I didn't notice... you might as well have handed that zombie the guest check with the way you shoved that poor guy into it's waiting jaws!!" 

The silence, aside from the occasional pounding on the door, was deafening in that moment. Regina, thankfully, had the wisdom to keep her mouth shut and just nod. But... 

"Wait... are you like, calling me a waitress?" Claire scoffed, a look of accusation on her face, "You think that I'm like, one of the poors?!" 

"If you ain't gonna do it, I will!" Beetlejuice mumbled to Ash.

The poltergeist's hand raised, poised to snap. 

Ash gave a nod, the contempt and disgust on his face evident; not towards the ghost, but rather his fellow breathers.

"Like, gag me, do you even know who I am?!" huffed Claire. 

A sly little smile crossed Lydia's lips, giving Beetlejuice's arm another gentle squeeze, "Hmmm... not such a bad idea, huh BJ?" 

Besides, it was Claire herself who gave the suggestion. From the moment Bertha and Prudence scrambled off to find some rope a few aisles over, Beetlejuice snapped his fingers. In an instant, both Regina and Claire had thick metal plates plastered across their mouths, effectively silencing their irritating squeals. 

"Thank you..." Ash sighed, with relief as he reloaded his crossbow, "ladies, would you-ahhh... quit reading my mind..." 

His tone softened around Prudence and Bertha; those two had his back. And thanks to Beetlejuice's magic, Claire and Regina had a rather difficult time escaping with their feet literally turning into led. 

"Are you kidding? Do you know how long I've been wanting to do this?" Bertha asked, binding Claire's wrists. 

"I guess in the apocalypse, all the rules of civilization are off!" added Prudence, as she worked on Regina. 

After years of putting up with Claire and her posse's crap, this little moment felt... amazing! Even with impending doom literally knocking on the front door. 

"Lydia, you want in?" Bertha offered. 

Although there was the slightest pang of guilt within Lydia's heart, it was quickly overshadowed by the knowledge that if Claire just gave her the damn pages, she'd have put those zombies back in the grave by now! Those two would at least be safe. Maybe not comfortable, but safe for the time being. 

"It's quite alright, Bertha, you guys-"

Her train of thought completely detailed as she looked at the cover of her Necronomican again. The pentagram was periodically pointing in different directions; three distinct patterns as opposed to one as it had before. 

"Babes?" Beetlejuice questioned, his appearance calming down. 

"I think it's pointing towards the missing pages, Beej," Lydia whispered. 

Perhaps all was not lost after all. 

*   *   *

Of course, this led to other issues. (But at least they had half a plan!) Follow the kinda-sorta directions from a magical book cover and collect the missing pages... amongst the slobbering, mindless hordes. Yeah! It could work. But just one, little problem... 

"Maybe if we could go out there, they ignored you, Beej," Lydia mentioned, leaning over the counter, keeping her voice down, "and when I turned my face all grotesque, back in the cemetery... they ignored me too." 

Of course, her and Beetlejuice going out there and being completely unopposed was sure to raise a few eyebrows, especially if there were other survivors. (Plus there was the fact that Lydia's grasp on her Corpse Visage was shaky at best.) 

"But... if I just remained... as myself, they'll-!"

"No! Babes, that is NOT happening!" Beetlejuice hissed, shaking his head. 

He cast a furious glare at the now tied up Claire, "Hey, you! Ya want me to untie you, huh?" the ghost snarled, gesturing towards the door with a sharp, red claw, "I will... if only to send YOU out there to bring back those pages!" 

Beetlejuice seethed for a moment, tasting the fear that wafted off the girl as she frantically shook her head, mascara and five pounds of makeup running down her face as the waterworks flowed.

"Mr. Beetleman, what if she just runs away?" pointed out Prudence. 

"Or gets eaten?" Bertha added, "Turned? Then there's more zombies." 

Lydia had to agree with her two friends; for as much as Claire deserved to be thrown out to fix the mess she created, Bertha and Prudence were right. The little snip would take off at the first opportunity, leaving them high and dry. That meant... one of them would have to go out there.

"I'd have a valid excuse to shoot her."

Ash glowered, turning to Regina and Claire, Claire in particular.

"Lyds... let me," Beetlejuice said, gently taking the grimoire from Lydia's hands, "I'll get them." 

The ghost held out the spell book, only for the pentagram to stop moving. He gave a concerned look to Lydia as they both came to the same realization. 

The young goth gulped slightly, "It only works when I hold it..."

 
"Yeah, magic items can be funny like that," Ash mentioned. 

At once, Beetlejuice's ears flicked as his proverbial hackles raised once more, "How would you know anything about magic items?" 

"I play a lot of D&D, alright?" answered the human, with a shrug. 

There was a moment when Ash leaned down over the counter, where a flash of gold and red could be seen around his neck. Just as quickly, the human had it effectively hidden beneath his camouflage jacket. 

"Is there a way, without magic, for me to look dead?" Lydia questioned, glancing up at her friend. 

"Lydia... what do you mean?" Prudence questioned. 

Flicking through the pages of her book, Lydia stopped on the section marked with a sticky note; 'Zombies and the Pros and Cons of Summoning them.'

'Zombies, under the control of a strong willed wizard or cleric, will only turn hostile upon command. However, without a master to control them, zombies will mindlessly roam in search of fresh meat. They are attracted to loud noises and the scent of the living. While many who summon zombies do so with less than honorable intentions, there are those that have attempted to train these undead in search and rescue, given their acute sense of smell for living bodies. Trials have been half successful. But the hard part is preventing the undead from eating rescued individuals.'

"Hmmmm... maybe not look dead," Ash suggested, with a clever smirk, pointing towards the poltergeist, "but your friend there gave me an idea. We don't need to look dead, per say. Just smell like we are." 

Beetlejuice and Lydia give each other anxious glances; just what in the Neitherworld was this Ash guy cooking up?! 

"You know, there's something that I saw on an episode of The Walking Dead that I've always wanted to try," admitted the human, eagerly picking up his crossbow. 

*   *   * 

::To Be Continued::

Chapter Text

From the moment Lydia found herself staring at the twice-dead corpse splayed out in the narrow confines of the small store, she began to rethink her life's choices.

It was done with surgical precision; the door flung open, Ash fired his weapon right in the fiend's eye, then he and Beetlejuice dragged it inside before the rest of the horde could figure out what happened. Of course, the stench was something dreadful, almost as bad as the squelching sound Ash made while ripping the crossbow bolt out of it's skull. 

"Talk about'cher "dead eye"," Beetlejuice muttered, with a snorting laugh, in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Honestly, the poltergeist had no idea just what this breather was up to but he'd have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued. The 'clang' of metal falling against hardwood caused his ears to twitch, followed by the coughing and gagging of their two prisoners. 

"Like, ewwww! Why did you -ulk- bring that thing in here?" Claire whimpered, scooting back as far against the wall as she could.

Both she and Regina looked about ready to hurl at the sight of that rotted corpse. Of course, it could have been the smell, like death at a sewage treatment facility. 

"You're about to find out!" called Ash, returning from the back aisles with a decent-sized wood cutting axe. 

Prudence and Bertha both looked a little pale, but figured that Ash had kept them safe so far. He must have known what he was doing. They'd done as he'd requested, grabbing the emergency rain ponchos off the impulse buys rack at the counter, along with several pairs of work gloves and a plastic face shield. 

"Ash said that -ulk- you two might wanna put these on," mentioned Prudence, handing Lydia and Beetlejuice a poncho each. 

Glancing down at the plastic rain poncho, the entire setup, a look of horrifying realization crossed Lydia's face once she saw Ash preparing himself. 

"Oh no... Beej... I've seen the episode Ash was talking about..." she mentioned, with an audible gulp. 

"Good! Then what's coming next won't be much of a shock to ya," Ash stated, almost too cheerfully before lowering the plastic shield over his face.

With little more warning than that, the human brought down his axe with a violent swing. The resulting squelching of rotted organs, spray of sticky black blood, and crunching of bones splintering nearly caused Bertha and Prudence to lose their lunch. Claire and Regina let out horrified gasps, too shocked to look away from the carnage. 

Lydia however... had been unwittingly preparing for this moment for as long as she knew. Beetlejuice was the king of all that was truly gross, revolting, and disgusting but this... this might have finally crossed a line of what she'd be able to handle. 

Another swing of the axe and spray of rotted, putrid flesh and bodily fluids. 

"I'm... I'm okay... better than that guy, at least!" Lydia reassured herself, burying her face into Beetlejuice's dress shirt. 

Logically... he was a zombie. Killed again and being chopped to pieces. It wasn't exactly murder, right? Honestly, the noises were the worst part of this whole thing! Perhaps it was best not to think too hard about this. 

"Whoa. Talk about spillin' yer gu-!" 

Before Beetlejuice could finish that statement, Lydia quickly plastered her hand over the poltergeist's mouth. 

"Please, BJ, it's... -urrrrp- bad enough what he's doing!" she pleaded, daring a look over her shoulder at the mangled carnage marring the hardwood floors. 

Beetlejuice's pale yellow eyes widened, but he gave an understanding moan and nod before his friend released him. Out of everyone in that room, the ghost was the one taking this whole thing in stride. 

Finally taking a break from the carnage, Ash had to turn away from the mangled corpse, struggling to catch his breath, "Alright, you two might want to get dressed for the occasion," he suggested, gesturing towards Lydia and Beetlejuice. 

Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, the goth girl instantly regretted it; by the horrors of the ancient Eldritch, she could swear that she was TASTING that putrid flesh now!

"Just don't get any of it on your skin or in your eyes and you should be fine, babes," Beetlejuice reassured his friend. 

Looking down at that chopped up stew of zombie blood and guts, Ash knew they were beyond the point of no return. Once Lydia and Beetlejuice were ready, the hunter knelt down, made sure his gloves were secure, before grabbing a handful and smearing it all over the plastic rain poncho. 

"Well... no turning back now!" 

Lydia wanted to say otherwise, but truthfully, she didn't have much of an argument. While movies and TV shows tried, they just couldn't recreate the true horrors of just how terrible these things smelled. The slimy feeling of slathering this rotten, festering mess all over her. Yet the young girl was holding it together rather well, especially for a breather. 

Of course, Beetlejuice had absolutely no issues; in fact, Lydia suspected that he'd have done this without any sort of protection! (Dare she think that he was ENJOYING this!)

Even Prudence and Bertha were willing to get their (gloved) hands dirty, helping with difficult to reach places. 

Lydia coughed, almost giving into the lurch in her stomach, "Ullghhhh... this is... -ulk!- so gross..." 

"It kind of reminds me of -ewww, slimy... I think it's moving!- w-when we had to -ulp- dissect that frog..." mentioned Bertha, trying to make light of the rather grim situation. 

"Is this -cough, cough- even legal?" questioned Prudence, turning her head away. 

"I didn't see any cops around," Beetlejuice, shrugged, indifferently.

"It's only illegal if you get caught..." added Ash, in between coughs. 

Yeah, Prudence and Bertha only had the sweet gear they did because the police had already come... and failed. 

"Kid, just try to think of it like psychology lessons," suggested the poltergeist. 

"I think you mean biology, Mr. Beetleman," Prudence corrected, smearing the soupy, disgusting concoction along his back. 

"That too," Ash snorted, laughing while trying to hold back the urge to puke at the same time, "just try to think of literally anything else. Puppies and kittens..." 

"I need more -ulk- I'm okay-! -guts here," Lydia grimaced, as Bertha assisted. 

By this time, Regina had since fainted and Claire lacked the iron stomach that Lydia had been perfecting these recent years. The vapid little heiress tossed up her cookies (not to mention the beer and whatever tasty treats had previously been available at the festival.) 

"Y-you people are like, so sick!" Claire moaned, right before upchucking on the floor again, "I'm like, totally going to sue you all!" 

"We're about to go walking among the dead. You know, the things that wouldn't hesitate to make mince pie out of us?" Ash reiterated, raising an eyebrow, "Do you really think that any of us gives a shit what you'll allegedly do to us IF we even make it out of there alive?!" 

The only reason they were even doing this was because of her! Something Beetlejuice was quick to remind her of. 

With a mischievous grin, the ghost intentionally flicked some excess zombie innards on Claire, delighting in her terrified squeal. (If anything, he was doing the right thing and "protecting" the little harpy with their leftover stinky camouflage.)

"EEEEEWWW!!!" squealed Claire, as she began thrashing around in a panicked frenzy, "Get it off, get it off!! Ew, like, it stinks!!" 

"Hey Lyds, she sure screams nice'n loud. If this don't work, we've got a backup plan at least," Beetlejuice muttered, to Lydia while pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. 

"Beetlejuice!" Lydia hissed, a horrified look crossing her face. 

At this point, Claire's eyes rolled back as she finally passed out. (Yeah, she wouldn't have been much use out there anyway. At best, she'd have only gotten herself killed. But at worst... well, that wasn't a price Ash was willing to pay, nor Lydia for that matter.)

"Hmmmm, I'm with the B-man on this one," Ash admitted, preparing his crossbow, "right... let's go do something incredibly stupid!"

*   *   *

Before they left, the ground rules were made very clear; stay in formation! Lydia was the primary asset, what with her attunement to the grimoire. Bertha and Prudence had been given strict instructions not to let anyone else inside. (They'd already risked enough with Claire and Regina.) Although Lydia wanted to protest, she was given a firm reminder.

"If these pages do what you claim they do, those are the priority," Ash declared, "with any luck, we'll have the apocalypse shut down before dinner." 

The hunter took something off his belt and handed it to Lydia; a sheathed knife, "I hope that you don't have to use it...."

"I... I wouldn't even know what to do with this..." admitted Lydia, gingerly taking the weapon into her hands. 

"Ummm... use the pointy end, Lyds?" Beetlejuice suggested. 

The girl gave Beetlejuice that look she'd been perfecting since she'd met him. With a nervous chuckle, the poltergeist backed down.

Any good-bye hugs between friends were understandably given a rain check for the time being. Against better judgement, Bertha opened up the back door, indicating that the coast was clear before letting Ash, Beetlejuice, and Lydia outside amongst the horde. 

"Lydia... be careful..." , "Ash kept us safe. He'll do the same for you and Mr. Beetleman." 

"I need you two ladies to hold down the fort," Ash said, nodding to Prudence and Bertha, "if we're not back in an hour... call the president!" 

"How?" , "Yeah, my phone's not even getting a signal anymore." 

With those parting words, the door closed and the lock latched. Perhaps the humans would feel the severe anxiety, but Beetlejuice knew he'd be able to get back inside with little effort. Not that he'd need to, not for himself at least. However, he wasn't comfortable with Lydia being out here AT ALL! 

They shuffled cautiously down the alley way, turning into the festival grounds. Somehow, the damage seemed even more severe than when Lydia and Beetlejuice first arrived. Perhaps there were even more survivors in town, just hiding and waiting the disaster out. Although, the number of zombies, mindlessly milling about, had drastically increased. A few of them meandered near, snarling and hissing, yet thankfully moving elsewhere after getting a solid whiff of pureed corpse guts. 

Ash began mimicking the broken, uneven, limping gait of the surrounding undead, silently signalling for Lydia and Beetlejuice to do the same. Afterall, despite the smell disguising them, any movements too quick or precise for the upright dead to make could clue them in to the imposters amongst their ranks. 

"It's actually working..." whispered Lydia, carefully positioning her grimoire and following where the top point of the pentagram directed, "they actually think we're part of the horde!" 

Beetlejuice took the girl's right flank while Ash took the right. So far, so good. But there was bound to be some sort of wild card cast into the mix at some point... like those dark storm clouds brewing overhead. 

"You can tell which ones were raised," Lydia mentioned, noting the more severe decay upon certain zombies, "and who were turned by being bitten..." 

This was one of the biggest dangers of the zombie apocalypse; friends and loved ones that have turned... and holding out the hope they could be saved. Ash could already interpret what the girl was asking; she didn't want him to put down any of the "turned" individuals. 

"I'll do what I can, kid, but I make no promises..." 

Carefully, Ash leaned in closer to Beetlejuice, not wanting Lydia to overhear, "BJ... if I get bit... do not hesitate..." 

Momentarily, a look of alarm crossed the poltergeist's face. Asking for an elaboration in the middle of the zombie horde was unneeded, despite how much Beetlejuice wanted to. If the breather didn't want to put the burden on Lydia; then why not just stay inside? (Then again, perhaps the company of snarling, foul-smelling, drooling flesh-eaters was preferable to Claire Brewster's.) 

The small group shuffled their way past a ruined stage. A cop car had crashed into it, the hood crumpled, doors flung open and lights flashing. A few smears of blood inside was enough to indicate that things didn't end well for the boys in blue. 

"So that's where Prudence and Bertha-?" questioned Lydia. 

Before she could finish, a rather large throng of the undead had gathered around some torn apart food stalls. Some fed upon dead bodies in the street and others carelessly wandered into the souvenir stands. 

"Oh boy, I'm gonna end up with a bunch of new neighbors..." Beetlejuice muttered to himself, with an annoyed huff. 

"We need to disperse this pack," whispered Ash, before hissing back at a walking corpse that was getting too curious for his liking. 

A mischievous grin spread across Beetlejuice's face. With a snap of his fingers, the police car's wailing sirens abruptly went off, as did the car alarm. Naturally, the sudden, loud noise in the otherwise disturbingly quiet street garnered quite the bit of attention. Curious fiends even abandoned their lunchables and staggered off towards the sound. Just for good measure, Beetlejuice shattered the windows once the group surrounding the abandoned vehicle became large enough. 

"Nothin' like a police siren and a crime scene to draw a crowd, know what I mean?" the ghost grunted, still feeling rather pleased with himself. 

(Even if his vandalism of a police vehicle was for a noble, semi-heroic cause.) 

"Good thinking Beej," complemented Lydia, "that should keep them busy for a while." 

The girl could feel the pull of her grimoire, getting stronger and stronger; one of the missing pages! She could see it, sticking out from under a relatively fresh corpse. However, Lydia halted dead in her tracks, heart catching in her throat at the sight of an extremely recognizable head of red hair and that garishly bright blouse. 

"Oh... oh no... m-mother?" stammered the young goth, horror filling her large doe eyes. 

With a higher pitched, questioning groan, Zombie Delia lifted her head from the manwich she'd been eating off of. Charles emerged from his hiding place behind the dead body. Apparently, even as a zombie, he still wasn't comfortable in crowds. But there was something about seeing those you loved most in the world smeared with blood over their faces and bits of flesh between decaying teeth that moved into one's psyche like an obnoxious roommate you never asked for.

"D-daddy...? What-? No... why didn't you -?"

Lydia's steely resolve was crumbling rapidly; would this have happened if she hadn't wandered off to the cemetery? All she wanted was a short break! Had they been searching for her? Was that how her parents got infected?! Because they stayed behind to look for her?!

"What? No... not Deelz and Chuckie!" Beej pleaded, pinning his pointed ears back, "The only slovenly undead who was supposed to torment them was me!" 

Ash raised his crossbow, hand shaking as it rested on the trigger, "I'm sorry, kid... but they're no longer the people you once knew!"  

Beetlejuice let out a low growl, one hand poised to snap, "Did'ja not hear what I just said?" 

"I'm still living," Ash answered, his voice turning cold to hide the inner turmoil bubbling up inside of him. 

Before the human could squeeze the trigger, a sharp hiss followed by his bolt inexplicably squirming caused Ash to reevaluate just what happened. He jumped back at the sight of the black and white striped serpent where the bolt should have been, showing the first real fear that Beetlejuice could recollect since meeting him.

"No, wait-! Please... don't!" Lydia pleaded, quickly pulling back her hand as Zombie Charles made an awkward lunge for her, tripping over the corpse, "I-I can help them... I know I can..." 

A plume of green smoke exhaled from Beetlejuice's nostrils while his eyes glowed bright gold, "Deelz and Chuckie are off limits, action hero! Got that?!" 

For as much as Ash wanted to challenge this ruling, perhaps the middle of apocalypse ground zero was a poorly thought out place to do it. 

"Fine," he relented, lowering his weapon while awkwardly shoving Zombie Delia back when she got too close for comfort, "but what about those guys?" 

Ash gestured with a thumb over his shoulder; apparently the lack of wriggling, screaming flesh with a pulse at the still noisy police car was causing the great undead masses to lose interest... and grow curious about the little soap opera moment happening in real time. 

"Whatever it is you have planned, do it fast!" he warned, "And would you kindly do something about this fucking snake in my crossbow?!"

By a snap of Beetlejuice's fingers, the bolt returned to normal again. The ghost could have sworn he heard Ash call him "a zebra dick" or something equally as colorful, but flattery would only get that breather so far! Without hesitation, he grabbed Charles and Delia by their shoulders, pulling them in close whilst leading them towards a vacant store front. 

"Ya know babes, I think I could get to like your folks like this..." Beetlejuice mentioned, chuckling nervously as Delia hissed, trying to turn around in the poltergeist's grasp. 

If looks could kill, Beetlejuice would have dropped dead (again!) right then and there. However, Lydia wisely used this opportunity to snatch up the page instead, before following after her ghostly friend. 

"Speak for yourself..." Ash groaned, slapping aside Charles's grasping hand. 

The zombie let out a whimpering moan; like that of a dejected puppy... an evil dejected puppy that wanted to feast upon mortal flesh, that is. 
While Beetlejuice and Ash wrangled her zombified parents into the abandoned store to lock them up, Lydia opened up her grimoire. Carefully placing the torn page inside, the parchment sealed itself upon the tear, mending the damage seamlessly. 

"Now look, you two just stay put in and what'doya say to... ten percent off my next handy dandy handyman odd job, huh?" Beetlejuice rapidly rattled off, shoving Zombie Charles and Delia forward. 

Once Lydia's zombified parents were inside, Ash slammed the door shut, using a metal pole snatched from one of the performance stage props as a makeshift lock. 

"Come'n now, ya didn't think he was ACTUALLY going to shoot Lydia's parents, did'ja?" Beetlejuice sighed, turning to look at no one in particular with a raised eyebrow. 

Delia slammed her palm against the glass door, gurgling out a confused snarl while Charles retreated further inside; if it was possible for a zombie to look relieved, he did! 

"I-it'll be okay," Lydia reassured her parents, hoping that somehow they could still understand her, "I'll find a way to make you human again..."

She gently ran her hand over the restored page before showing it to Ash.

"L-look... here it is, or at least half. I can turn them back... once I get the other two, at least." 

"Even better, hopefully they won't remember the deal I offered them!" chimed in Beetlejuice, puffing himself up rather pridefully. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, time to MOVE!" urged Ash, before letting out a groaning snarl at a zombie that had gotten way too close. 

Lydia let out a startled gasp as even more zombies shuffled over, growing far too interested for comfort. Beetlejuice hissed back, keeping the girl close to his side. The poltergeist allowed his noxious scent to permeate off of him in translucent green waves. Combined with the already foul stench of pureed zombie guts, the rotten smell was enough to deter the great undead masses... for the time being. 

"Alright, kid... -cough- where too next?" Ash questioned, casting an anxious glance up towards the ever darkening sky. 

*   *   *

With one page down, Lydia closed the grimoire, watching the top of the pentagram dart from left to right for a few moments before finally settling in a direction due west of their current position. The group limped and snarled along with the rest of the shambling undead, their cover working for the time being. Of course, how long they'd be able to blend in was an unanswerable question. Minutes? Hours? Until gone native? 

Mostly, it was the sheer loneliness that would get to you. No signs of an actual living person or even an animal. Well, except for the two strays darting out of a collapsed vendor booth. Rather squat dogs, yelping as they ran, attracting the attention of a few undead. But the strangest thing had to have been... that one was dressed like a bee and the other, a fish.

"Wait! Did you just see a Corgi and a Dachshund wearing costumes run past?" Ash questioned, blinking his eyes a few times. 

Lydia nodded, equally confused, "Yeah?"

Although, that came out as more of a question. But at least it confirmed that no one was seeing things that weren't actually there. 

"Good girl!"

Perhaps the poor critters were part of some bizarre art installation? These people were known for being rather eccentric, after all. Still, that did little to disguise an all too alarmingly familiar scent from Beetlejuice as his hackles raised; smoke and smog.

However, before any investigation into the wayward mutts could take place, an awkward noise, like someone who had no idea how to actually play an instrument but was still doing it anyway, abruptly echoed over the speakers. Up on one of the stages, (which was half crashed to the ground in a mangled heap,) a few members of some band no one had ever heard of remained; their flesh bit and torn up. One continued to pound on the broken drum set while another scratched at the strings of his electric guitar, creating a horrible, electronic screech as he did. 

"Maybe... they do retain a bit of themselves..." Lydia whispered, both confused and fascinated, "at least the ones that were bitten." 

"Yeah, and there's yer ungrateful deadhead right there, babes," mentioned Beetlejuice, pointing a red talon towards none other than Peggy. (Or rather, 'Piggy', as he so preferred.)

Last time Lydia had seen her, Peggy got a rather nasty bite and was left for dead by Claire in the graveyard. Now, she was reduced to crawling around, unable to stand on her mangled ankle. However, as she dragged herself around, one who knew what to look for would see the piece of parchment stuck to her foot, glued by sticky blood and debris picked up from the festival. Apparently, Peggy's recently turned brother had stumbled upon her as well, mindlessly clawing through an empty cooler with a moan of disappointment. Both were covered in bites and lifeless, dark blood. 

"Well I for one am not interested in hearing their next set!" Ash muttered, raising his crossbow, "Unless you two have any objections." 

While Lydia was quick to let her feelings on the matter be known, Beetlejuice was not so hesitant. 

"Think about it, Lyds. She wouldn't be here to bother you anymore," he pointed out, a wicked grin widening.

"No... but what are the odds that she'll end up in the Neitherworld and bother YOU?" Lydia hissed back, with a knowing smirk.

At once, Beetlejuice's smile dropped while his ears folded back, "Tis the moral thing! Quite right, my dearest Lydia!" 

Ash just groaned, shaking his head. The human covered Lydia and Beetlejuice as they crept in closer, moving broken pieces of fence and parts of the stage to make a jury-rigged barrier. 

"Okay you two, do your voodoo and let's get the hell out of here!" 

Then he felt it; the first drop of rain. Followed by another, and another in rapid succession along with a rumble of thunder overhead. More of the fiends began shuffling in closer, attracted by the new flurry of activity. 

"Oh shit...." 

"Beetlejuice..." Lydia whispered. 

"Relax, babes. At least it's not raining cats and-oh... better stop there," muttered the ghost, glancing upwards towards the darkening sky. 

The two zombie band mates staggered closer, arms outstretched and teeth gnashing. Thankfully, the drummer tripped over his already broken gear, his pants becoming entangled while the guitarist pulled against the cord connected to his own instrument. 

Cautiously, Lydia approached Zombie Peggy, watching for those lunging hands and snapping jaws. Even prone, a zombie like this could still be extremely dangerous! 

"I'll take the end with the teeth, babes," Beetlejuice said, motioning for Lydia to walk around to grab the page. 

"Keep an eye on Chad, there," warned Ash, growing more and more nervous as the rain really started to pelt down. 

While Beetlejuice began spinning one of his salesman-like pitches, Peggy turned away, completely uninterested. The zombie girl hissed, twisting around and lashing out to grasp Lydia. 

"Ah!!" 

Lydia cried out and jumped back in surprise, just as a bolt pierced through Peggy's hand and pinned it to the wrecked stage. The girl gave him a surprised look, swallowing the dry lump in her throat. 

"She'll live!" Ash scoffed, before muttering out a barely concealed, "Kind of." 

They needed to hurry this up! The rain was only getting worse! Quickly, Lydia snatched up the sticky and grody, but thankfully in tact, page. However, the shadow of Zombie Chad looming over her was rapidly causing Lydia to rethink her "don't shoot to kill" policy. 

"I-it's okay," the young goth reassured her companions, as the entire stage began trembling with kinetic energy, "w-we still smell like them..." 

She growled back at the zombie as it took in several deep inhales. Immediately, Beetlejuice hissed threateningly, eyes glowing bright gold and teeth sharpening. Already he could tell; the scent was beginning to wash away! And the poltergeist wasn't the only one to notice as the surrounding horde limped in much faster. 

"Fuck, I should have known! This happened in the episode!" Ash cursed loudly, uncaring of any of Beetlejuice's scolding for using such language in front of Lydia.

He reloaded his weapon, this time pinning Chad's foot to the stage, giving Beetlejuice enough time to snatch Lydia out of harm's way. Overhead, the speakers and lighting systems began to spark and malfunction while the two band zombies finally freed themselves from their respective tethers and shambled forward with a broken, uneven gait. 

"Guess this concert was a big BUST!" Beetlejuice announced, with that usual showmanship and a laugh. 

With a snap of his fingers, the rest of the already unsteady set came crashing down. Sparks flew in all directions, metal support rods and lighting fixtures violently crashed within the growing mass of zombies that surround them. 

By now, it was absolutely pouring. Live wires continued to whip around erratically, electrifying the growing puddles surrounding the destroyed stage. Several undead began convulsing and smoking once they stepped foot in the electrified water, creating a temporary blockade of barbequed corpses to block the path of the rest of the horde. 

"Ughhh... the cooked ones smell worse than the-! You know what, that just sounds wrong..." mumbled Ash, coughing a few times, "good show, Mr. Beetleman. Any chance for an encore?" 

Beetlejuice kept Lydia close to him, not wanting her to go anywhere near the front of the stage, "Nope! I don't do two shows a night anymore!" 

"Then how about a backstage pass?!" Lydia blurted out, frantically pointing. 

"Ah hell, she's got my vote!" Ash stated, growing worried as he looked at his dwindling quiver of bolts while reloading, "Alright Mr. Beetleman, Lydia... how's your guys' cardio?"

All three of them ran for the backstage doors, dodging the occasional stray fiend that tried to grab a hold. Lydia clung tightly to the page to her grimoire as though life depended on it... mostly because it did. Just as Beetlejuice ushered his mortal friend inside, there were several loud 'SNAPS' of twisted metal and shoddy workmanship as the rest of the stage finally collapsed under the sheer weight of the charging horde. 

One bad step had sent Ash tripping forward, sprawling on his front and crossbow sliding out of his hands. While that may not have been so bad, having a leg pinned beneath a fallen fixture made it much worse.

"Shit!" the hunter cursed, trying to free himself. 

"No..." Lydia gasped, eyes wide, "Ash!!"

She could feel the energy coursing throughout her body. Taking in a deep breath, the young girl focused on the fixture holding Ash in place. 

'No distractions. Can't let anything break your concentration...' echoed Beetlejuice's previous words in her mind. 

There was the loud groan of steel on steel as the large, mangled hunk of scrap metal moved all on its own. Already, Beetlejuice had snatched up the crossbow, eyes widening at the sight of the horde nearly upon the trapped breather. He glanced back to Lydia, realizing just what she was trying to do. She was struggling, having never tried moving anything that big and heavy before. 

"I-I'm stuck!" Ash cried out, growing more and more panicked, "Please... help me!" 

Letting out a low groan, Beetlejuice rolled his eyes and hissed in his throat, "Bleeding fuckin' hearts of the world unite!!" 

In a daring move, the poltergeist was upon the human in the blink of an eye. The snarl of a nearby zombie, "the guitarist", echoed in his pointed ears from behind as it bit down on Beetlejuice instead of it's intended target. It let go and backed away at once, looking like it was spitting a rather unpleasant taste out of it's mouth. 

"Ya got shit fer taste, flesh bag! Hahahaaa!!" the ghost barked out, before grabbing hold of Ash's shoulders, "You! Hold on breather, and point'cher head away from my Lyds!" 

Without even giving Ash a chance to question what he was doing, Beetlejuice had already vanished once more, with the hunter in tow. Just in time as the zombies swarmed around the smear of fresh blood underneath the twisted, uneven metal. When the two of them reappeared, it was on the other side of the locked stage doors with Lydia. 

"Beetlej-er-Mr. Beetlema-ah!!" 

Lydia yelped as Ash lurched forward, everything he'd had for lunch that day coming up in a torrent that even his iron stomach couldn't contain. 

"Oh... -uuurp- ... that's why..." mumbled the human, as he struggled to reorient himself after the rapid teleportation. 

Vomiting hunter aside, Lydia was just relieved that her friends were alright. She hugged the ghost tightly, uncaring of any wet, slimy, leftover zombie guts remaining on their plastic ponchos. 

"You're both okay," she said, relief filling her voice, "thank you for saving him, Beetlejuice..." the girl added, in a whisper. 

Although Beetlejuice was trying to hide it, he couldn't help but smile. Of course he wouldn't just leave the breather to die like that! (And run the risk of having him as a permanent neighbor in the Neitherworld?! No way!) But perhaps there was some small piece of Lydia that had rubbed off on him... that little bit of conscience that simply whispered, 'it's the right thing to do'. 

"I don't... -ulk- know what in the hell you did back there, chief," Ash panted, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he leaned against the spectre for support, "but I'm fucking glad you did!" 

At once, Beetlejuice's features hardened as his pointed ears folded back. Reflexively, he held Lydia tighter to him with a rather possessive growl. 

"Hey! 'Nuff of THAT kinda talk around my Lyds!" he snarled, dropping Ash unceremoniously to the floor. 

Rather rough treatment, but still kinder than what the zombies locked outside would provide. The hunter grunted, just barely catching himself. Shrugging off the crossbow, Beetlejuice kicked it across the floor towards Ash. While the Ghost with the Most may not have had such need for mortal toys, the human was arguably more help with it. 

"Beej-" Lydia began, before being interrupted by pounding and scrabbling of clawed hands at the translucent stage doors. 

It had been locked with a metal pole through the handles, but the glass was already spider-webbing beneath the pressure and sheer volume of undead pressing up against it. 

"D-do you think it'll hold?" she asked, feeling her panic growing as she heard an audible 'crack!'

"Remember what I mentioned earlier?" Ash grunted, staggering back to his feet and slinging his crossbow over his shoulder, "Typically it'll hold until the plot demands otherwise..." 

"He's doing it again..." hissed Beetlejuice, brushing at the tear in his suit from where the zombie bit him, "but the action hero's right. We might have three minutes, tops, babes..." 

As the small group traversed through the dimly lit corridor, following the thankfully still brightly glowing red 'EXIT' sign, Lydia restored the newest acquisition to her book. Already she could feel it's pull once more, guiding her towards the final page. With any luck, there'd be no more surprises. 

"But then what kind of a story would that be?!" scoffed Beetlejuice, turning around to face something unseen in the dark. 

*   *   *

::To Be Continued::

Chapter Text

So far, so... not exactly good, but better than the other possible alternatives. Two out of the three missing grimoire pages accounted for, (but of COURSE the one they needed, the elusive Page 74, was still somewhere amongst the carnage.) Lydia's zombified parents were safely locked away. Peggy and Chad would probably be in great pain once cured, but no great loss there. Claire Brewster... well no one really gave a shit about her right now, did they? 

Oh yes, and the sudden, inconvenient downpour had washed away their zombie camouflage, leaving the small group vulnerable to the great undead masses. Dwindling ammunition on top of everything else! And, once they'd made it safely out of the backstage corridors, Lydia and her grimoire led the way to a grimy dive bar; The Buck Stop.

It was the sort of place that looked both shabby and tacky even when there was no ongoing apocalypse. Filled to the brim with shady customers. Poorly constructed taxidermy animal heads hanging all over the walls, inside and out. (In fact, Lydia distinctly remembered overhearing her father describe the place as "a urinal with windows" when he thought she wasn't around.) Oddly enough, the smoldering remains of oversized pickup trucks and hummers in the parking lot didn't look at all out of place here. 

"That's... where it is..." Lydia groaned, swallowing hard, "we have... to go in." 

The top point of the pentagram guided her directly towards that sleazy establishment. 

Of course, Beetlejuice perked right up; this was the sort of place one could satisfy every single vice in a single stop. Plus the owners skirted around health inspections like it was an Olympic sport. Often, the ghost would visit whenever he got peckish, as the place was absolutely crawling with roaches! 

"See Lyds, I told'ja dead guys have good taste!" 

"Look on the bright side," Ash mentioned, with a shrug, "You don't have to be twenty one in order to go inside right now." 

Somehow... that sentiment did little to make Lydia feel better. 

* * *

Thankfully, all the ruckus from their previous stage act left the path relatively clear, save for a few stragglers. Nothing that a little misdirection or an exceptionally thick pit of spontaneous mud couldn't fix. Beetlejuice just chuckled to himself, blowing away the smoke wafting from the tip of his finger gun. (Sure, his sorcery couldn't affect the fiends directly, but he could sure as hell alter the environment around them!) 

Upon closer inspection of the parking lot and bar, there were a multitude of zombies lined up along the wall. Lydia let out a startled gasp, watching as the snarling, snapping heads turned in their direction and began to lunge, only to be awkwardly jerked back. 

"Why didn't these ones leave?" she asked, quietly. 

Ash simply pointed downward at their feet, "Because they can't."

Someone had intentionally caught these zombies, locking them inside the cruel jaws of steel bear traps and chaining them outside like guard dogs. It was clever, but arguably sick and deranged! (Then again, so was chopping up a zombie and covering yourself in its mangled innards!) It was truly the sort of thing that could have only been done by another person. 

"Babes, you stay with me," Beetlejuice growled, pinning his ears back as the tips of his pale blonde mane turned green, "there's a couple of breathers in there... and they feel... familiar!" the ghost warned. 

"Beetlejuice, if there's other people inside, that's a good thing, right?" Lydia mentioned, hopefully. 

"Not necessarily," grunted Ash, eying the dark windows suspiciously, "I thought you've watched The Walking Dead..." 

For as much as Lydia would have liked to come up with an argument, she knew that the hunter was right. Her heart began beating faster, pulse racing in her ears. Already, Beetlejuice could feel her apprehension as his own. 

As they took cover behind a smoldering pickup, Ash counted his remaining bolts; four more shots, provided he didn't have a chance to reclaim any spent ammunition.

Lydia felt the kinetic energy building up inside of her, begging to be released. The girl held back, keeping the grimoire close to her body. Just a quick in and out, "put the lid on this voodoo", as Ash put it, and the apocalypse would be over before dinner.

Cautiously, the small team approached the front doors, which were made a tighter squeeze thanks to the zombies chained up directly on either side. The slightest bit of carelessness, and one would find themselves a shish kabob for a hungry undead. 

"Hey, have either of you maggot snacks considered... aromatherapy?" Beetlejuice questioned, with a sly grin as he raised his arms. 

The stench that wafted off the ghost may not have been as potent in the downpour, but at close range it did the trick, distracting the zombies long enough for Ash to open the rather fortified door. 

"All the comforts of home..." muttered Beetlejuice, snatching a squirming maggot off one of the guard zombies as they entered. 

"Well... at least someone is enjoying himself," Lydia sighed, unable to hide the absolute disgust on her face. 

Inside the bar was just as disheveled and disgusting as the parking lot. Possibly worse! But whether this was the byproduct of the apocalypse or just how the place looked in general remained to be seen. It was dim, hazy, reeking of cheap cigarette smoke and stale beer, with the added potpourri of rotting corpses. Broken tables and chairs lay in disarray. There was such a thick layer of trash, cigarette butts, and peanut shells that it was impossible to actually see the floor. Tacky "man-cave-esque" decor dotted the walls, along with more stuffed and mounted animals. Everything from ducks, rabbits, and a skunk to deer, a bison head, and even a bear. And there was just something about the "Minors will be Shot" sign that made Lydia's skin crawl. 

It was one large room, with the main bar up against the far wall with a set of swinging double doors leading into the kitchen. On the right hand side were the restrooms, which were probably a more frightening sight than Beetlejuice on a job for a wealthy client. 

"Thanks, I hate it..." muttered Ash, as he closed the door behind them. 

"Okay, where is that last page? Come on..." Lydia whispered, watching the pentagram shimmer and glow in the dark as the point began moving erratically. 

"Babes!" Beetlejuice shouted, grasping the girl by the shoulders and pulling her back. 

Loud scuffling could be heard, coming from the kitchen. The ghost's pointed ears pinned back as his eyes glowed gold while Ash readied his weapon. Just as a weak voice from behind the bar asked "is someone there?", a snarling, hissing zombie limped out of the kitchen, dragging a loose chain behind the bear trap clamped around it's foot. More voices came from the back, two men by the sound of it. 

"Go on and git 'em there! Ahaha!" , "That's right, ya better run u'less ya wanna be zombie chow!"

Before the loose zombie could get far, Ash had already fired, nailing the undead right in the eye. With one last rattling groan, it collapsed to the filthy ground, unmoving. 

"Did it get them, Sam?" , "How the hell should I know, Vern?" , "How come I don't hear no screamin'?" 

Just as Lydia was remembering that she'd heard those drawl voices and their names before, the double doors flew open. Two men, one unnaturally tall and thin with long, greasy, black hair and the other, short and squat with noticeable buck teeth, stomped into the bar room. Both were dressed in camo hunting gear, much like Ash, however they each carried a shotgun. 

"I don't think so, now!" snapped the tall one, pointing his weapon at Ash as the hunter pulled the spent bolt from the dead zombie's head. 

"Why don't'cha just slide that on over to us, now?" the squat one added, as his shotgun made the distinct sound of a round being loaded into the chamber. 

Not wanting to argue against two serious men with shotguns pointed at them, Ash complied with handing his crossbow over, "Look fellas, we've got no beef with you. There's just something that we need to pick up then we're outta here." 

"Ash, you don't know these two!" Lydia whispered, staying behind Beetlejuice at his behest, "I do, unfortunately..." 

"Oh lovely... are Beavis and Butthead here friends of yours?" questioned Ash, giving the two men a rather disgusted glare. 

Beetlejuice let out a loud scoff, "Not hardly! They harassed Lyds in the woods a while back. Shot her feathered friend, nearly captured a s-"

He stopped himself right there. This human already knew more than the ghost would have liked. But Ash seemed to catch on; these two poachers were bad news! 

"Hey Sam... don't that little lady there look familiar?" questioned Vern, taking a step closer. 

Beetlejuice let out a low, demonic growl, using himself to shield his mortal friend. He gently led her away, not once taking his eyes off the two breathers, guiding Lydia towards the bar.

"I recognize them stripes there too..." Sam snarled, narrowing his beady gaze towards Beetlejuice, "that there's enough! U'less of course ya want some spots in yer suit too."

Both poachers began snickering and snorting, the one named Sam slamming his hand on top of the bar top when that weak, frightened voice called out again. 

"Hush up!" he snapped, motioning with his shotgun, "You three behind the bar. Now!" 

Vern quickly snatched the grimoire out of Lydia's hands, "And I'll take that there fancy book too."

"Hey! Give that-eheh... back?" gulped Lydia, wisely backing down when Sam pointed his own weapon at Ash instead. 

"Git in line, little lady, or I shoot one o' yer friends instead!" the lanky man warned. 

Another snarl left Beetlejuice's throat. He glanced around at his surroundings; there was a fair bit of material the ghost had to work with, but it was a question of pulling it off without putting his mortal companions in danger. Or catching their meal ticket out of this mess in the crossfire for that matter. 

Lydia could feel the energy bubbling up inside her, threatening to break free once more. Already, the dim lighting flickered, nearly plunging everything into complete darkness. 

"Ya'll think ya can just come intah our compound and take our talking zombie?" 

Vern let out a weak "oooow!" from when Sam slapped him on the arm. 

"Don't be tellin' them 'bout that, now!" Sam scolded, grabbing the book from his friend and carelessly tossing it on the bar top, "Git some rope and tie these interlopers up!"

"Wow! Someone has been reading their thesaurus lately..." Ash said, his tone flat and unimpressed. 

Daring a peak behind the bar, Lydia's eyes widened at the sight of a man tied up on the floor behind the counter. While he certainly looked filthy and was covered in what appeared to be blood, she recognized him as one of the scare actors from earlier that day. Beside him, tied to the heavy shelves, were those two dogs they'd seen while put amongst the horde; the Corgi and Dachshund. Still in their costumes but crudely muzzled with rope. Both canines whined softly, wagging their short tails at the sight of the young goth. 

"That's not a talking zombie!" Lydia pointed out, ripping her arm out of Vern's hand, "He's just a scare actor! I met him earlier today! He let me take some photos for crying out loud." 

"Get'cher slimy, disgusting paws off her!" Beetlejuice hissed, swatting away the poacher's hands. 

"And those aren't some sort of mythical half-dog creatures," the girl continued, with a sigh as they were prodded behind the bar by twin barrels prodding into their backs, "they're just dogs in costumes..." 

"Stupid costumes at that!" added the ghost, quirking an eyebrow, "Kinda like you two clowns!" he added, in a low mutter. 

"Says you, now! Them dogs breathe fire too!" Vern pointed out, gesturing to the canines, "Set the whole parking lot on fire." 

"That's 'nuff, Vern!" Sam snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at Lydia and Beetlejuice, "We already lost that big, fancy purple worm thanks tah these two." 

At the mention of "that purple worm", a wave of kinetic energy pulsed from Lydia's body as she clenched her fists. Bottles of liquor and empty glasses rattled violently for a brief moment. While the two poachers glanced around nervously, Ash let out a laugh. 

"Ppfffttt... talking zombies? Purple worms? Fire breathing dogs?" he scoffed, with a roll of his eyes, "please... you could easily do that kind of damage with a canister of gasoline and a well placed match! Besides, have you two NOT looked outside lately?" 

"I think we have bigger problems," Lydia pleaded, through gritted teeth, "now I need that book back! And we need to find that last page..." 

Threateningly, Sam slammed his free hand down upon the grimoire, keeping his shotgun aimed at the three. 

"Capturin' that giant purple striped worm was gonna make us both rich men," he hissed, his face contorting into anger, "till ya'll came along and fucked it all up!" 

"Hey! Not around my Lyds, ya point blank losers!" snarled Beetlejuice.

Lydia could feel the poltergeist's fury bubbling up inside as though it were her own. They had no business tormenting that poor baby sand worm the way they had. Even Beetlejuice was angry at them for what they did!

The second Vern reached for Lydia's wrists again, she lunged forward, letting out a growl that she didn't even know she was capable of. Her face contorted and shifted, transforming into that grotesque mask of rotting flesh and jagged teeth. 

"Whoa shit!!" 

Surprised by the sudden change, Sam fired his weapon, though it inexplicably jerked upwards towards the ceiling. Lydia let out a startled gasp, her mask rescinding just as quickly, while a plume of green smoke exhaled from Beetlejuice's nostrils as he shielded her. 

"Whoa! Did'ja see that, Sam?! She's there one of them zombies!" Vern whooped, pointing vigorously and sounding more excited than anything else. 

"Well lookie here; now ain't that somethin'?!" Sam growled, with a sinister smirk, as he loaded a fresh round into the chamber, "And this one does got quite a mouth on her." 

Ash cursed under his breath, glancing towards the dirty windows, "Do you morons have any idea what you've just done?!" 

Outside, the zombies chained up became restless, hissing and gnashing their jaws as they clambered to get inside. 

"Loud noises rile those bastards up! Why do you think I use a crossbow?!" he hissed, "Okay, enough of this tension! Don't you think it's gone on long enough!?"

Before giving either of the two poachers a chance to answer, Lydia was already cutting in. 

"Look, I just need that last spell book page and my grimoire so I can put a stop to all of this!" Lydia snapped, taking on her grotesque, undead mask once more with a snarl. 

The lights up above flickered violently while the windows rattled, exciting the chained up horde outside further. A loud 'BANG' on the door, followed by the scrabbling of claws indicated that more of the loose wandering fiends had found their way to the grimy dive. 

"Now just why would we ever want this to stop?" questioned Vern, with an ugly grin as he pointed his shotgun at Lydia. 

Showing off an equally unattractive receding gum line, Sam took a roughly folded piece of parchment from his pocket. He held up the last grimoire page like it was his latest hunting trophy.

"In this here new world order, there ain't no huntin' licenses. No police. No jail. No rules!" Sam stated, slamming the parchment down before pulling out a lighter from his pocket, "We can do whatever the hell we want now!" 

"NO!" screamed Lydia, reaching out for the page only for both Ash and Beetlejuice to pull her back.

She knew it was foolish; reckless as well. But if that page was destroyed... then THIS would BE the new reality of Peaceful Pines. Her own pulse pounded in her ears and for a few seconds, all became white noise. She didn't even have a chance to hear just what Ash had said to Beetlejuice as her corpse visage withdrew once more. 

"Alright, Beej. If you are what I think you are... pile drive these sons of bitches!" 

Already, several devious schemes were flooding through the poltergeist's mind. The hardest part would be picking which one to do first. Well, perhaps not. As bad luck would have it, Sam just could not get that lighter of his to cooperate. 

"No rules, huh?" Beetlejuice practically purred, while stroking his chin, "Ya know, yer right my inbred trailer trash chum! We can do whatever the hell we want!!" 

With that, the poltergeist flashed a most sinister grin, his green teeth sharpening into fangs as the rest of his form took on a much more horrifying appearance. He let out a devious cackle that echoed throughout the entire building. 

"Alright you redneck rejects, it's showtime!"

Both poachers pulled the triggers, only to find that their weapons wouldn't fire. Before either one could check for any reason of the inexplicable jam, the spell book on the bar top flipped open all on its own. The last page tore free of its distracted captor, restoring itself to its rightful place. All around, the various animals heads began to contort and burst into fits of demonic laughter. Everything from the broken tables, the bottles of liquor, a desk lamp, anything and everything began moving of its own accord, laughing and jeering along with their puppet master. 

"Last call, boys!!" Beetlejuice shouted, flinging the entire stock of the liquor wall towards the two bumbling fools. 

* * *

"Last call..." muttered Ash, ducking down behind the bar, "striped bastard used it before I could. Damn that's a good line!"

He could see his crossbow, abandoned on the bar top, but reaching for it through a violent torrent of shattered glass and debris would have been rather unwise. The overwhelming stench of cheap booze filled the air, mixing with the already diverse aroma of this esteemed establishment. Whatever it was Beetlejuice was doing, he was having a grand time of it, if his jeering fits of laughter and running commentary were anything to go off of. 

While the poltergeist was busy having his fun, Lydia drew the blade Ash had given her earlier, cutting the bindings off of that poor scare actor and the two dogs. 

"Stay down, no matter what you hear," she whispered. 

Knowing better than to argue, the poor actor nodded wordlessly. Unfortunately, the two dogs were not as cooperative. The smaller of the two canines snapped at her hand, causing Lydia drop the blade on the floor and jump back with a start. Ash caught her, positioning himself between the girl and the two animals. 

"How's that for gratitude..." muttered the hunter, drawing a concealed knife from his boot. 

The Corgi snapped at the dachshund, regarding both Lydia and Ash with an almost 'human' sense of intelligence. With a yelp, the smaller dog snatched up the dropped knife in it's mouth and the two ran off. 

"You're welcome..." Lydia said, in a flat, sarcastic tone. 

There was that faint scent again, even amongst the chaos conjured by her poltergeist; smoke and smog. Not that there was much time to take down any notes, as the rather poorly fortified door finally caved forward and the horde of zombies finally broke inside. 

"Lydia... your grimoire..." mentioned Ash. 

* * *

Meanwhile, Beetlejuice cooly sat down on the bar top, watching as his prey squirmed like worms on a hook. Honestly, the zombies busting in was just the touch he needed to make this a real show stopper. Abruptly, the torrent of shattered glass and the laughing animal heads ceased, as Beetlejuice now had his attention on the undead masses shambling inside. 

"S-Sam, t-they're everywhere!" Vern yelped, holding onto his bleeding hand. 

"Ya think I can't see that, Vern?!"

They feebly tried to defend themselves, only to realize that their shotguns had since become large, black and white striped snakes. With terrified shrieks, they cast their now useless weapons aside, utterly freaking out. Freshly bleeding wounds from all the broken glass and debris left an easy scent for the ravenous fiends to follow. Neither of their choices were pleasant; it was either the hungry zombies or the pissed off poltergeist.

"Hey! You two clowns threatened my Lyds..." Beetlejuice hissed, eyes glowing bright gold before grinning deviously, "but even that can't be any worse than gettin' caught with yer pants down! Pffft... know what I mean?" 

Honestly, if there was one thing worse than being fed to a starving horde of zombies, it would be having your pants forcibly pulled down around your ankles by an inexplicable force before you could make a run for the exit. Suddenly boxers or briefs wouldn't have mattered, (and it would have been a REALLY bad day to go commando,) as zombies cared little about your preferences. Only that you screamed loudly as they tore into your flesh. 

Beetlejuice watched with satisfaction as those two were overtaken by the horde, only to come slowly crawling along the filthy ground, pale and bloody, milky, glassy eyes and wordless gargles. However, the Ghost with the Most's victory over those two poachers would be short lived, as a shrill cry from Lydia and Ash's shouts quickly captured his attention. 

At once, his pointed ears flattened against his skull, already pale, dead skin draining of any remaining life, "Babes? LYDIA!!!!"

*   *   *

While Beetlejuice let loose the juice upon the pair of nitwitted poachers, Lydia seized the opportunity to grab her book off the bar. By sheer luck or at the ghost's behest, the necronomican hadn't budged, even in the turbulence of Beetlejuice's wild and unpredictable magic. 

"Yes! It's still here! Beej," Lydia called out, placing her hand on top of the open grimoire, "Ash-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" 

It all happened so fast; blink and you'd miss it. One second, she was grabbing their ticket out of this shit show. The next, slimy talons grasped around Lydia's arm followed by an intense pain as jagged, rotting teeth tore into her flesh. Lydia let out a terrified scream, desperately trying to pull her limb away while clumsily reaching for the knife that was no longer there. 

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!" cried Ash, in a primal rage.

He snatched up his crossbow, not even bothering to load it, instead opting to use the butt of the weapon as a club. Even once the offending zombie had its brains artfully rearranged all over the bar room, Ash continued to pound the mangled corpse into a pulp. 

"Lydia?!" Beetlejuice questioned, reappearing by the child's side, horror stricken across his features.

"I... I'll be... I'll be okay, BJ..." gasped Lydia, taking hold of the book with her good arm. 

She was trembling, pulse racing; she knew what was going to happen next. Any second she'd be developing a taste for human flesh and her IQ would drop to a level Claire could understand. 

However, Beetlejuice wasn't about to wait for the rest of the horde to overrun them. Nor watch his favorite person in any of the known realms walk amongst THESE particular dead! With the bar filling well beyond the legal capacity, the poltergeist grabbed hold of his team and vanished from the crummy dive. At this point, the zombies could keep it! 

*   *   *

They reappeared inside the loft of Maitland's Hardware with a poof of green and gray smoke. Ash and the not-actually-a-zombie were carelessly tossed to the floor with an audible 'thud'. Irritably, Beetlejuice's eyes glared at nothing in particular as he snarled,

"What?! Did'ja think I was gonna leave the extra and the action hero behind to get eaten?" 

Perhaps Lydia was getting to him. Or maybe now was the exact time to stop pretending not to care. Not when the person he cared about most was hurt. And hurt badly. 

From downstairs, a scuffle could be heard, but at the moment, none of that mattered. At least not to Beetlejuice. 

"Lydia... babes... you stay with me, now, ya hear me?! Speak to me! Let me know yer still my Lyds!!" 

"I... I don't know how long..." Lydia paused, gulping audibly as she looked at the torn, mangled flesh wound on her arm, "t-the book... cure...." she mumbled, letting out a hissing growl. 

Her pale skin was beginning to discolor around the wound and she could feel the sickness trying to overtake her. The wound burned painfully, like an acid burn drenched in salt. 

"Beej..." Ash sighed, fighting to hold back his tears. 

He didn't want to say it, nor would he be foolish enough to do so as Beetlejuice let out a demonic snarl. The ghost's tear-strickened golden glare alone said, 'I just pantsed two guys then fed them to zombies! What do you think I'd be willing to do to you?!'

"Babes... just look at me... -gulp- eyes on me, now..." 

Lydia couldn't remember a time she'd seen Beetlejuice this frightened. Not even around a sand worm. She clung tightly to her friend as the fiend held her in his arms. The girl wanted her last human memories to be that of the bond she shared with her best friend. As a zombie, she wouldn't be able to harm him and in turn, he could prevent her from hurting anyone either until a cure could be brewed. 

"Wait a minute..." mentioned Ash, moving to examine the girl's wound more closely. 

"WHAT?!" Beetlejuice spat, choking back and agonized sob, "I swear to every Eldritch Horror, Sand Worm, God, and Devil that there is if you so much as bring any sharp object near her I'll-!" 

Venom flowed through his voice, his tirade only ceasing once he noticed just what the breather was pointing at. The blackened and discolored veins flowing throughout Lydia's arm were no longer spreading, but rather rescinding. Confused, the young goth held back her tears, still terrified as Beetlejuice held her against him protectively. 

"Extraordinary..." mumbled Ash, his eyes wide with genuine shock. 

Indeed, the infection, once spreading rapidly, faded, leaking from the bite wound in the form of thick, black congealed blood. Her body was outright REJECTING the Zombism virus. Lydia swallowed back the dry lump in her throat, staring at the injury on her arm.

"Beej... I-I think I'm ready to read that spell now..." 

"It's showtime, babes!" Beetlejuice sighed, with relief as he hugged her close once more. 

*   *   *

Downstairs, chaos was erupting! Screaming, broken windows, assorted things being knocked over. And a very distinct cry of, "WAIT, CLAIRE, DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!" 

"Shit..." both Beetlejuice and Ash muttered in unison. 

Thankfully, neither Prudence nor Bertha asked how Lydia and her team returned, completely undetected. (Although truth be told, that might have had something to do with the escaped Claire ditching Regina and making a break for it... through the front door... where a horde of hungry zombies awaited. 

"You and your plot, breather!" hissed Beetlejuice, smacking Ash on the arm with the back of his hand. 

"Hey! I didn't write it! Ya bloody stiff..." Ash fired back, rushing towards the front of the store to assist his crew.

Lydia found the banishment spell and began to read while Ash and Beetlejuice did whatever they could to hold back the hordes threatening to come spilling in. Although still in severe pain, she fought through it. Against her friend's wishes, she insisted on waving off medical treatment, at least until after the spell was cast. 

"Klattu! Verata! Nikto!" the girl chanted, already feeling the surge of energy electrifying the air. 

The garbled shrieks and ghastly moans of the undead rang in her ears as she continued to read the Banishment. Several of the undead finally managed to throw open the door, shoving Ash, Prudence, and Bertha back. Beetlejuice remained where he was, but even his stench was not enough to conceal the scent of multiple humans. 

As Lydia continued to read the spell, the zombies that were originally summoned began to behave erratically, throwing themselves up against the walls, banging their heads on the floor, and shrieking in agony. 

"Prudence, Bertha, fall back, ladies!" ordered Ash, as he scrambled to his feet, helping the two middle schoolers up, "Protect Lydia at all costs! Make sure she finishes that spell!" 

Ash stood by Beetlejuice's side, loading up one of his few remaining bolts into his crossbow. 

"That friend of yours is truly something exceptional, Mr. Beetleman." 

He said it in such a way that suggested he knew that was NOT the ghost's actual name, but rather just to humor him. Just as Ash fired his shot, the crossbow was instantly reloaded, and there was Beetlejuice, snapping his fingers with a smirk.

"Come on, Lyds! I know ya got it in ya!!" the ghost shouted, encouragingly. 

Meanwhile, Claire stumbled backwards over the mess she had caused, screaming upon noticing the bite wound on Lydia's arm. 

"Oh my God! Like, she's been totally bit!!!"

Shrieking and sobbing, Claire pointed at the nasty bite wound on Lydia's arm. The blonde attempted to take the grimoire out of Lydia's hands, ranting and raving about how "the freak is going to destroy us all!", momentarily disrupting the spell. 

"Claire Brewster, so help me-!" snarled Lydia, as a low growl left her throat and the overhead lights flickered dangerously. 

Having had enough of Claire's nonsense for one apocalypse, Prudence decked her one; hard! Right in that perfect, pretty face of her's. The little redhead huffed, momentarily shaking her hand; human heads were HARD! Especially one's as thick as Claire's.

"Sorry Lydia, please continue," insisted Prudence, back to her usual polite self.

"Prudence, that was badass!" Bertha whispered, with giddy excitement. 

Both of them carried out Ash's command, any zombie that slipped past either their benefactor or Beetlejuice, they intercepted, leaving Lydia free to finish the spell. 

By the time the last syllable left the young goth's breath, all of the zombies that Claire had originally summoned faded to grave dust, vanishing as though they never even were. With no more fleshy road blocks, Beetlejuice slammed the door closed by a flick of his wrist, releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. 

"Great apocalypse there, chief," Ash panted, nodding before patting the ghost's striped shoulder, "let's do it again sometime..." 

Beetlejuice just let out a scoff, shaking his head, "Not on yer life... or afterlife!" 

With the crushing weight finally lifted from her shoulders, Lydia managed a bit of a laugh, "I-I think I've had enough adventure for one day..."

Prudence and Bertha nodded in agreement, relieved that the whole ordeal was finally over. 

"That's... all the spookiness I can handle for a while," , "Yeah, but how often do you get to punch Claire in the face and get away with it?" 

Relieved and just happy to be alive, Lydia pulled her two friends into a hug. She made a gesture with her hand, calling Beetlejuice over as well. 

"Ughhh... you too, action hero..." the ghost grumbled, lightly shoving the human forward with a smirk, "if I gotta do it, you got a do it!"

"Joke's on you, stiff," muttered Ash, "I enjoy a good group hug!" 

They'd done it! Peaceful Pines was saved from the scourge of the walking dumb! Or at least... most of them. 

Claire groaned loudly, picking herself up off the floor from where she landed. With a sob, Regina lifted up her head, still tied up and where she'd originally been left.

"Y-you were going to leave me again, Claire... how could you?"

"Like, I-I totally would have come back for you and-AHHHHHHHHHH!!! ZOMBIE! ANOTHER ONE!!"

That poor scare actor chose an unfortunate time to stumble downstairs. He groaned, holding onto his stomach as the delayed effects of fast traveling with The Ghost with the Most finally caught up with him. Both Regina and Claire screamed in unison before fainting. 

"I... I really want to go home..." the actor whimpered, earning a sympathetic nod from both Lydia and Ash. 

*   *   *

While the resulting "voodoo" as Ash called it had sent the summoned undead back to the grave, there was still the matter of multiple citizens that had been turned. Thankfully, after the Banishment had been cast, those remaining zombies were now considerably more docile and easier to round up. 

With the battle now over, Ash administered first aid to Lydia's injury, using the medical kit Bertha had scrounged up. Although the girl had rejected the initial virus, the physical would still required tending. While Ash could do an effective field patch, Beetlejuice would take Lydia to a proper hospital later, once all of this was at least restored to a semi-tolerable level. 

"Thanks, Mr. Williams," Lydia said, graciously, "I... I don't know if we could have done it without your help." 

"Hey, we all played a part, kid," Ash mentioned, with a smile, "you be sure to look after that friend of yours. I have a feeling that he'd be completely lost without you." 

While Beetlejuice gave out an offended balk and gasped, Lydia just giggled. 

"You have no idea..." 

The cleverly disguised ghost continued to sputter and stammer, eventually stomping his foot in a fit of rage. There was just... SOMETHING about that particular human that drove him nuts!

"Ah! Here it is, Lydia, just like you said!" Prudence announced, pointing at a recipe in the necronomican. 

'The Draft of Second Life; for the Living Once Bitten.'

"Excellent! You found it!" praised Lydia, sliding off the cashier's stool to join her friends. 

Bertha returned, carrying a small camping burner that she'd found and a pot that while not ideal, would work. 

"Nutmeg and cinnamon? For zombie bites? Who'd have guessed that?"

"And formaldehyde?!" questioned Prudence, with a wince, "Is this even safe?" 

"Probably not!" Beetlejuice shrugged, wrapping an arm around Lydia's shoulder. 

Ash, knowing his companions were in good hands, left to prep the first batch of turned zombies to bring inside for the cure. And he knew exactly where to start. 

*   *   * 

::To Be Continued::