Beetlejuice x Reader || Stinky Rat Bastard

Chapter One

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

BEEP!

"WHAT THE FUCK ALARM CLOCK?"

WHAM!

You groaned with frustration. How dare it wake you up in the middle of a dream! You yawned and laid back down, using another pillow to block out the literal blinding rays of the sun flooding through your window. You almost were able to fall back asleep when you remembered...

"Wait... I HAVE A FLIGHT TO CATCH!"

You hurriedly sprung back up. You checked your alarm clock and read the time 8:00 a.m.

At least you didn't end up falling back asleep. Even though you were pissed that your alarm had the audacity to wake you up super early, who knows what time you would of woken up at, had you decided to just pass out again under the covers.

You sprung up from the covers, grabbed your phone, and walked i to the bathroom. On the counter, there was the clothes you had laid out the night before. You walked up to the mirror and stared at yourself.

"Damn. I look like shit." You quietly judged yourself. You practically looked like a living corpse. You had dark circles around your eyes. Your hair was sticking up EVERYWHERE. In your tired, 'sorry-i-havent-had-
my-morning-tea mentality, you looked like a lion.

You looked yourself dead in the eye and said, "Man. I really shouldn't of been lion around yesterday."

You laughed maniacally to yourself. You stood in your bathroom silently for a second. "Seriously though, I need to fix myself."

You had already packed your things the night before, so all you had to do was get dressed. You didn't usually use a lot of makeup anyways, and decided against using it today, since you would be in an airplane all day. You went to your closet and grabbed an old "Chicago" hoodie and black jeggings.

You grabbed your bags from beside your bed, make a smoothie for you to drink on the way to the airport, and headed out the door.

You walked to the apartment on the floor below you, and knocked on the door closest to the elevator. No one lived there, so you didn't expect someone to open the door. The apartment staff always told stories about that room, though. The storyline changes depending on who you ask, but here is the version of the story that most people tell:

Supposedly, back in the day, a couple lived there. They we're considered to be some of the luckiest people in New York. They're luck seemed to rub off on people. Anybody the couple knew seemed to be blessed with riches and happiness. One day, however, they left the apartment and never came back. No one knew where they went. They say, if you stop by and knock on they're old door, you will be gifted with a little luck.

You needed all the luck you could get. Today, you had a trip to visit your sister Lydia and your dad. You were so excited, you could barely contain yourself. You hadn't seen them ever since you started college. Sure, you called them pretty much every day, but it wasn't the same. You were a bit worried though. You and Lydia's mother had passed away not to long ago. From all the times you and Lydia talked, you could tell that she was still grieving,  and it wasn't getting much better.

Maybe this trip will change it.

(Timehop to to plane ride)

You boarded the plane, putting your carry-ons in the little bag compartment above you. You looked at your row number, 13. You sat down on the isle seat as you watched other passengers settle down around you. A few rows in front of you, you saw a little boy whining that he couldn't sit at the window seat.

You didn't know what the big deal about the window seat was. Sure, it looks cool at first, but after a while it was all the same thing-clouds. Behind you, a baby started crying.

You sighed and pulled out your headphones. This is gonna be a loooong flight...

The pilot alerted the passengers that the plane was about to take off. You pulled out a piece of gum to chew so your ears wouldn't pop.

'I kind of want to offer the kids some gum.' You thought bitterly to yourself. You've been on enough flights to know that the second their ears pop, the crying starts. You also noticed that the crying was like a chain: once one started crying, the rest of them join in.
It was like a choir. Okay, maybe not a good choir. But still.

You stood up and grabbed a huge binder from the carry-ons. It was full of scrap paper. You had been brainstorming ideas for a new script you wanted to write. You had been heavily influnced and inspired with ideas on your mom's death, and wanted to spread a message that death happens and it sucks. Instead of never getting better and recovering, we should learn that it's a part of life.

This was your way of grief and coping with death. You were never a huge fan of super serious, sad shows. You wanted to try and make this grim topic into a comedy. A musical, maybe.

~

" I'm getting a strange aura from the people here...Charles, are you sure we're at the right place?"

"Yes dear."

Charles sighed to himself. His wife had asked that question fourteen times in the last minute. All this asking and asking make him start to question his credibility.

'Where is she?'

Lydia sat tired against the airport wall. She rested the welcome back sign she was holding. They had been waiting for so long. She closed her eyes to take a nap when...

"Hey everyone!"

The young teen's eyes sprung open. She jumped up excitedly and ran to her sister.

"It's so great to see you, (Y/n)!"

Delia and Charles followed quickly after. You hugged your dad, and he hugged back... very awkwardly. Delia just waved.

After you and Lydia's 'sister moment', you and the others went back to the property your dad bought. You had seen the house in all the pictures Lydia sent you, but those pictures didn't show how HUGE the house was.  Either that, or you've gotten used to your small studio apartment. Charles said he had some 'important work things' to talk about with Delia, so Lydia helped you carry your luggage to your room.

You started to organize your luggage into your room. "So, how are ya getting used to the new home?"

Lydia shrugged. "It's alright, I guess. Nothing really happens here. I do hear really creepy noises coming from the attic sometimes, so I guess that's a plus."

You laughed. "Maybe we'll find a ghost up there! Or something else... maybe a raccoon?"

"All I know," Lydia stated. "I think we have a raccoon up there. I'm not going to be the one to get rid of it." She shuddered.  "Those things are mean."

You knew what she meant. Once, back in New York, you had a run in with a raccoon, and it broke your umbrella. It didn't even try and come for you, like it wanted you to live with that defeat.

You and Lydia continued to talk for a while, until you both started to get tired. You and your sister said goodnight, and Lydia went to her room to sleep.

You changed into some pajamas,  lie down, and tried to dooze off. Something felt off about your room though. You felt a hand travel up your leg.

"OKAY, THAT THE SHIT!?" You yelled, and jumped out of your bed. You quickly turned on the lights and began to inspect your room. You didn't find anything.

You rapidly searched around your room. "I swEAR IF IT WAS A SPIDER, I'LL JUST GO BACK TO NEW YORK."

After a while, you gave up your search for whatever touched you. You turned off the lights and went to lay back down. You got comfy in your covers, and fell asleep.

A green figure loomed over you. "This one is gonna be a fun..."