Lydia has long forgotten (or blocked out) the hideous, moldy man behind the black and white stripes that caused her family such hell all those years ago. She's off to college, accepted to a sorority she never even wanted to join. On top of being forced to 'fit in', she suddenly finds that her sorority house is being haunted by the angry, violent souls of the house's previous tenants.

And those ghosts are seriously pissed at Lydia's new housemates.

Pissed enough to steal a long-forgotten flier, and call forth the most dangerous spirit to cross between the worlds. And that spirit has a bone to pick with Lydia.

So, this is MOVIE-VERSE, though I don't doubt a few Cartoon-Verse elements will find their way in here. I always thought the cartoon was better. But there are SO MANY cartoon-verse already, and they all seem to blend together. Anyway, enjoy.

Also, I in no way own the movie or cartoon. Both belong to the coolest weirdo alive, Tim Burton.

It's too loud…

The party raged throughout the small house, the third from the end of the fifth street of dorm homes. Bodies would grind against one, and then another as the music blared from the hidden speakers. Couples tripped up the stairs in drunken giddiness as clothes were pulled aside and lips were captured in sloppy, groping kisses.

We have to study…

The whispers were harsh, cruel, and ragged. They belonged to bodiless entities, beings trapped between the here and there. Only one person in this house was aware of them. Or… more she was aware of who was causing the weird shit that happened around the house.

That single person was hidden away behind the only locked door in the house. She'd elected for a smaller room, since she wouldn't have to share with the idiots pumping and grinding on the couches and dining room table. She didn't belong here. Well… her money did. These were the people that accepted her step-mother into their sorority, having some stupid excuse for a party. She was only in it for the roof over her head, and to get the Delia beast off her back.

Lydia… help us….

The goth shot up in her bed, staring around as an other-worldly wind tore through the small bedroom. Her walls, draped in dark sheets and painted with symbols meant to clear the mind and ease the undead, the short, circular table in the center of the floor, and the fat, old-fashioned vanity pushed against the wall opposite her bed. This space was not quite home, but it was close enough to keep her sane these long months she was away from her father and Delia, and her ghostly best friends, the Maitlands.

Lydia… they're too loud! HELP US!!

"Shh, shh, don't worry! Everything will be okay… here-" Lydia was off her bed in a flash, leaning over the small table, and the Ouija board laying oh so innocently on top. Gods, Barbara and Adam would kill her if they knew she was using another board. After the headless man that one time… and somehow that ghoul from the Lost Souls rooms… Well… the Deetz's insurance provider was beginning to get suspicious.

But the boards didn't just offer a doorway to spirits, good and bad alike. It offered help to those who were desperate.

And the spirits of the long-dead ex-housemates of this building were truly desperate.

When the first chair smashed against the wall, seemingly on its own, Lydia knew. Her 'sisters' just assumed it was one of the frat houses pulling stupid pranks.

Lydia knew the truth though. Because it didn't stop with the chair. The expensive stereo systems suddenly catching fire, the food going rotten long before its time, all the tiny little hints pointed to only one thing.

Ghosts. Trapped on Earth.

Like the poor Maitlands.

The first thought that had crossed Lydia's mind when she saw the first pale, terrified set of glasses, was: "What the hell is Juno doing? How could she just let these kids… exist like this?" And nothing Lydia did, could help them.

Until she thought of the Ouija boards.

You can see us? One had asked.

"Yes! Yes, please, tell me how I can help you-"

They're too loud! We have to study, or we'll lose our charter!

"No… no, you… you're dead, you should move on-"

NO! Help us Lydia, please! Make them leave!

Lydia had tried everything, but her 'sisters' would never listen to her. They continued to party, to thrash under the influence of sex, drugs, and pounding music.

Lydia shook her head in disgust, and bent over the board as the pointer began to skate across the surface.

"Can't I do something?"

T… e… l… l… t…h…e… m…t… o… s… h… u… t… u… p.

"I… I've tried! Please, please tell me something else, let me help you somehow!"

The pointer re-phrased the same demand.

"Isn't there anything else I can do? Please… I want to help…"

The pointer hesitated, before it suddenly shot towards the NO carved on the bottom right-hand side.

"I… I can try and talk to them again. They won't listen to me now, but maybe if you gave me another day I could… get them to hold the parties in the other house. Is that all right?"

The pointer was motionless for a long moment, until it lifted off the board. It hovered up in front of her eyes for a moment, before the tiny wooden triangle clattered back onto the lettered board, on top of the NO once more.

Lydia felt her stomach drop. "Then… then what… what's your plan?" She asked. Her voice was weak; barely more than a whisper, but the souls would hear her.

The pointer lifted off the board, and spun around once, before pointing towards the bedroom door. It stayed there another moment, before falling back into place.

Over the skull in the center of the board.

The symbol for death.

They wanted to kill…

"No… wait… please don't! I can help you, you don't ha-"

You'll be safe Lydia…

Lydia is our friend…

Lydia tried to help us…

Protect Lydia…

Punish the others…

The wind kicked up, stronger this time. The books covering her desk and vanity were thrown open as the ghosts whipped around the room, clearly looking for something.

Lydia tried to figure out what it was, shielding her face against the winds as she stood and stumbled towards her desk.

The thing they stole this time, however, was something she hadn't thought of in far too long. Something she'd kept, but intentionally forgotten about.

A flier. A summons. Black and white stripes. A cruel, psychotic leer.

The ghosts fled to the attic, leaving behind the confused Lydia. The paper slipped under the door, and was yanked through the room as the spirits fought over it.

He can help us…

He'll hurt our Lydia…

We have to protect our Lydia…

But he'll punish the others…

Make them leave.

Yes, we must call him!

Call him!

CALL HIM!

Beetlejuice!

Beetlejuice!

BEETLEJUICE!!

Forgive the shortness. So… really now, please review. It makes things so much easier when I have inspiration from my much-loved readers. And I do plan to update 'What Now?' real soon, as soon as I can figure out what the hell to do next. Things have gotten a little too fluffy over there for my tastes.

So anyway…. Here you go. Enjoy.