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River Princess	By : BloodValkyrie Category: 1 through F > Beetlejuice Views: 4287 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Beetlejuice and I don't own Bram Stoker's Dracula. I am making no profit.

Chapter List
- 34
- 35
- 36
Chapter 35
Refusing Despair

Lydia's instincts screamed at her to flee. She got a vibe from that man. It wasn't a good vibe. So, she skipped steps as she went downstairs. She found her slip on shoes, casually left in a corner of the foyer. She slammed the door as she left the building and sprinted to her car.

Vlad had to be following her. She didn't see him, didn't hear him, but Lydia knew that vampire had to be following her.

She went into her car and drove off into the night, sensing that he was nearby, not knowing she could not see him anywhere out the windows.

Don't go home, she thought to herself. Don't go home. There was no need for her parents to see him freaking out.

Just drive, drive, doesn't matter where you go. Just drive.

She was in a small town when she calmed down. She parked at a gas station to think; it was an old and unused building, the only light a single street lamp.

Was he really following her? Maybe he wasn't. Nobody had been following her on the road.

Damn, she needed some air.

Lydia opened the car door, just so she could get some air. She unbuckled her seat belt to get comfortable in the seat.

Like a really rotten cherry on top of everything, her period had recently started too. If her pad didn't work well tonight, she was going to scream and start biting at her car like an overstimulated dog.

Lydia rubbed her eyes and stretched out her limbs, and then someone grabbed her arm, pulled her out of the car, and screamed at her.

She screamed. She heard a wolf's growl, felt something woosh out of her car and to the person who grabbed her. Her assailant screamed.

Then she was released.

Lydia gripped the seat and turned herself to look at the scene. Assisted by the street lamp, she watched, her limbs feeling sort of delicate and tingly.

A man, a dark hairy … wolf man … was on top of another man. There was a dropped gun on the cement not far from the other man.

And that other man was screaming.

There was blood spurting out from his throat. Lydia assumed she knew why. Chewing sounds were coming from the hairy wolf man.

She went back into her seat and shut the door. The moment Lydia's keys were touched by her fingers, a horrible crunching and metallic sound made her cry out, and she was terrified; her hand wouldn't even turn the key. She looked to her left, and her mouth opened, eyes bulged. The car door was ripped off, held in the hand of the wolf man, and he peered down at her with eyes that glowed a very eerie red. He didn't have a wolf's head, but the face certainly wasn't quite human.

Oh.

Câcat.

Shit.

Lydia screamed again.

He nabbed her by her waist. She kept screaming, hitting his arms and chest with her fist. When she tried to knee his crotch, he simply blocked her knee. Then she was lifted over his shoulder like a sack.

“Beetlejuice!”

“Prostesc!” Stupid.

That sounded like Vlad, only more … powerful.

“Vlad?”

And he ran. His arm held her securely, but Lydia was still afraid of falling.

He had sneaked into her car and stayed in the back the whole time.

Vlad … it was Vlad … and he was pissed … should she call Beetlejuice? Was Vlad going to get abusive here?

She felt his that his fingers had claws, not fingernails, claws, but he wasn't scratching her, wasn't allowing the points to dig in at all. He could do horrible things to her; he didn't. So far, he wasn't hurting her.

He did occasionally shout out angry things as he ran, but the worst thing he called her was stupid. Why he was carrying her off, she wasn't sure. Lydia tried to yell at him to put her down, but he wasn't acknowledging her words.

She saw the trees become thicker, and the signs of civilization disappeared.

When he put her down, there was barely any light anywhere. She couldn't really see, but she felt that she was standing against a thick tree.

His still clawed hand went to her bathrobe and ripped it off. The claws didn't graze her skin.

“Oprește-l!” she screamed at him. Stop it!

“Nimic altceva nu te convinge!” Nothing else convinces you!

Such a harsh voice, guttural; it almost echoed. His bare hands felt a little rougher than normal, with fur on the wrists, and they were sticky with blood. He moved those hands to her panties and tore them away, and she didn't feel the cushion-like safety of her pad anymore.

He forced her upwards against the tree, pushed apart her thighs, and then his erection was inside.

She sobbed and pulled at the thick fur on his back.

Her own menstrual fluids provided some lubrication, but she really hadn't been sexually aroused.

It was then that Lydia decided she needed to be less submissive.

“Mă doare! Oprește-te!” she shrieked. You're hurting me! Stop!

He stopped. He didn't remove himself from her, but he stopped. Lydia's inner muscles pulsed around him. She found his shoulder and struck it with her hand. “If I get AIDS, I'll cut off your dick!”

Vlad pulled a hand away from her hips; soon he put his wrist to her mouth and said, “Bea, și nu vei fi bolnav.” Drink, and you won't be ill. He had bitten himself there.

She hesitated.

“Doar o înghițitură,” he promised. Only one gulp.

Fine then. Only one gulp. It made her gag a bit, but she did it.

She was surprised when he took her shoulders in his hands and led her to the ground, where she laid on her back. Then his head slid to her legs and he licked up her thighs. Lydia imagined he was licking off the blood that had trickled down from her. His strange face and mouth were wet and sticky too, so she knew that dead man's blood was on her now.

Morbid, but if this would calm him the hell down … as long as she didn't get a disease …

When his teeth very lightly tapped her mons pubis, her hips jerked and she considered kicking his face. Then he lapped at her clitoris with his tongue, and she forgot how to be angry.

“Hnnnnnmm …” She stretched her limbs and flexed her toes. She purred out, “Fiară foame.” Hungry beast.

It kept on, and on, and she clawed at the grass and dirt, whining. She didn't mind that his face felt like some sort of ape's or something … she did care about how lovely the throbbing between her legs felt. When her legs shook and she cried out nonsense words, the beastly man came over her and put his shaft into her again.

He kept on.

He just kept on.

Her back started to hurt. The ground was not a lovely bed. Her neck hurt too. At some point he put her up against a tree again, still fucking her. Sometimes she had an orgasm, but sometimes she felt like the whole experience was an orgasm. Only when she was weak and whining like a malnourished and exhausted animal did he finish.

When she was finally back at the mansion, just before she fell asleep, she said to Vlad, who had been resting beside her, “I forgot to put on my Stepford Smile. I'm sorry.”

The next evening, Vlad promised to purchase a new car for her, and she should make notes about what she wanted in a car.

***

Cold morning, there was a strange mist. It was thick. It danced amongst the forest, as if it had fingers and feet. It tickled leaves. It caressed the head of a squirrel. It caressed the long and perky ears of a rabbit. It touched the nose of a black bear. It spread out, settling into a more normal mist.

A tangled mop of red hair stood out among the wet greens and earth tones.

Brunhilde was laying on the ground, on her belly, uncaring of the wild. Her eyes opened and peeked out between her strands of hair.

A blurred figure in fluid gray robes held out a paper white hand with amazingly long fingers that twitched too quickly for Brunhilde to keep up with.

***

On a Saturday evening, Lydia Deetz was sewing in her bedroom at her home. She wished she was making a fabulous and interesting outfit. Actually, she was repairing a shirt of Vlad's. He could have just purchased a new shirt, but when his shirt got a rip in it he asked her to repair it for him. He'd better not make a habit of this.

Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Vlad. “Masina ta va fi aici mâine.” Your car will be here tomorrow.

She texted back, “Ok.”

“Ai terminat cu tricoul meu?” Are you finished with my shirt?

Lydia replied, “Aproape.” Almost.

Her car turned out to be fucking sweet.

When she saw it the next day, she had to admit that she wanted it. It was a bright red, shaped in such a way that it almost looked futuristic. Vlad handed her a car key, told her it was completely paid for, and smiled when Lydia ran to the vehicle to test it out.

***
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River Princess