Chapter Text
“Goddamn it, not again.” You grumbled, tapping your foot against the badly carpeted floor of the elevator. You had just been trying to get to that early morning meeting on time.
Mornings weren’t your strong suit. Sprinting up the stairs would have only made you sweaty ~and~ unprofessionally late… so you opted for technology. Hoping to just be unprofessionally late.
Now you were most likely out of a job.
You should’ve just used your fucking legs.
Not only that, but there was a weird homeless man in there with you. At least you assumed he was homeless, he could have just been some weird street performer or a flash mob guy stuck in the wrong building. It wouldn’t have been the first time that kind of thing had happened.
You hadn’t gotten stuck in the elevator before though.
To his credit, whoever he was, he was a greasy kind of handsome. The fashion disaster of a white and black striped three piece suit aside. You weren’t above admitting that. He had a fun, messy pompadour-like-do of very grown out neon green hair. Plus whoever had done his makeup had done a truly outstanding job. The moss looked so real! There was even the faint scent of damp earth in the air.
You pressed the emergency button after you shot the stranger a smile. May as well make friends if you’re going to be stuck for a while.
“You wanna take bets on how long it’ll take them to come get us out?”
The man actually jumped, as if he hadn’t noticed you being there. A yellow, pink, and purple fusion of colors shot through his hair, even going so far as to blend into the beard hair and moss detailing his almost cherubic face.
If cherubs were garbage men, anyway.
“How did you get your hair to do that?” You asked, genuinely interested and in awe, “That’s so cool! Your whole look is.”
Pink bloomed over his features next, much in the same way the other colors had. “Umm.. thank you… but…”
Despite you two being the only living beings in the faux metal tomb you had still managed to spook him, and he whispered like you weren’t the only two there too. “You… Can you see me?”
His voice was like the pleasant equivalent of touching sandpaper. It scratched a part of your brain you just couldn’t itch, but the question was bizarre. It undercut your appreciation.
You felt one of your eyebrows raise dangerously close to your hairline. “Yeah, of course… unless you’re trying to punk me? Like that one internet joke? That’s what the get up is for right?”
“You mean, like a may-may?” He almost looked like a puppy, all wide amber eyes and confusion. It didn’t help that his hair was so fluffy and pettable looking.
… oh God, you needed to get laid or something. Maybe you could take up Todd in Accountings offer. He wasn’t too bad.
You snorted back a laugh at the strange man’s mispronunciation, covering your mouth. “A meme? Yeah, like that.”
“Meme? Oh. No wonder she was laughing so hard…” he trailed off, before jolting again as if he forgot and asking again, “You can see me?!!”
You laughed without restraint that time. He definitely was an actor, not a part of a flash mob or anything else. He had all the making of a theater man. “Yes, I can see you. Am I not supposed to?”
“I mean, breathers usually don’t.” The man responds honestly, “So you must be a weirdo!” He clapped his hands triumphantly. “Yes! I love weirdos!! We’re gonna be the best of pals!!”
The man was in your bubble in a flash, dipping you into a surprise and somehow sensual kiss before standing you back up.
“What the hell, guy?” You retorted as you wobbled backwards away from him, if only because you lost your balance, “At least buy a girl dinner first!”
The strange man grinned, seemingly thrilled that you weren’t too terribly ruffled, “That can be arranged!” He snapped his fingers. In a burst of green smoke that had you coughing up a storm, a circular table with two chairs, a candelabra, and plates of spaghetti with wine appeared in the center of the elevator.
It looked like a stereotypical classy date scene.
Your jaw dropped, and you rubbed your eyes. Had you accidentally taken some kind of psychedelic before heading to work? As much as you think the baristas hated you sometimes for the office coffee runs, you doubted they’d give you their good drugs for cheap revenge.
“Mademoiselle.”
A copy of the man in front of you except skinnier pulled out the chair closest to your side for you to sit in.
You pretty much just tossed your give-a-fucks to the wind and sat down. This strange, stripe suited and grungy handsome man had somehow done literal actual magic. Your life didn’t get this exciting everyday.
“So, are you in a play or something? Somehow? I mean it obviously doesn’t explain the Magic…” you puzzled out, “Who are you?”
The man straightened his suspenders and tie as he pulled a ratted and frayed business card out of an inside pocket. “So glad you asked, babes. You caught me off guard there, I’m impressed. I’m the afterlife’s leading bio-exorcist, the ghost with the most…”
“Beetlejuice?” You read on the card, only knowing how to pronounce the name, spelt Betelgeuse, from an astronomy class ages ago.
Beetlejuice’s face split in a massive, shit eating grin. “You bet! In fact, say it two more times, and I can get us out of this elevator and we can go have some real fun.”
Something instinctual told you that that was a dangerous idea. Not bad, not good, just dangerous. It was… exciting. Yesterday the most exciting thing you had going for you was not dying your favorite white blouse blue when you had accidentally dried it with your jeans still in the dryer.
You took a look at your watch. You had gotten into the elevator 5 minutes past the hour. It was… 5 minutes past the hour. The next hour. Fuck. You had definitely missed that meeting. And most likely lost the job.
“How do I know you won’t kill me or possess me or some shit like that?”
Leaning across the table conspiratorially, a predatory grin stretching from ear to pointed ear, he started whispering in a low rumble.
“I enjoy it when my partners and I are on the same page, makes sense babes?” It ended in a purr. Which definitely shouldn’t have done something for you.
You nodded, transfixed. You were no doubt as red as the wine that sat untouched on the cheesy tablecloth in front of you.
“Good, so say the magic words~ then, it’s Showtime.”
“Beetlejuice..”
The elevator had the audacity to LURCH. The lights flickering. In each flicker, the table vanished, and Beetlejuice held onto you.
“Beetlejuice.”
A great, metal shrieking ripped through the air. The light stayed out. You felt like you were floating, only vaguely aware that somehow, this abyss of nothing was still the inside of an elevator in a boring office building.
You felt electric as you white knuckled the lapels of the undead man’s jacket. “Beetlejuice.”
His maniacal, thunderous laugh bounced off of every wall, off of the inside of your head, as you felt the elevator break away and drop. Through you. Past you. You didn’t even have a chance to be scared, to think about how that could have been you. How you could have died.
How you were still alive.
You started cackling alongside him, alight with mirth at your brush with death. As you brushed Death in the narrow tunnel next to some dangling, somehow frayed, steel cables.
“You said something about having some real fun?” You questioned breathlessly.
You managed to see his luminous, yellow eyes light up further in the dark. The glint of his fanged teeth. Like the Cheshire Cat.
“Hold on, babes~”