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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
- 36
- 37
- 38
Chapter 37
Come
Author's Note: I've been busy with other projects. Apologies for the lack of updates. Also, more apologies for any errors in translations with foreign languages, and typos in general.

Brunhilde's friends left the Deetz household. Charles was happy about that. He didn't always have two strangers in his house anymore.
Lydia hadn't really heard from Vlad in a few days, except one text in each of the evenings, asking if she would go on a date with him. Lydia would always refuse.
Finally, one evening, when Lydia was reading a short novel for a class, she got a phone call from Mihai. He sounded urgent and irritated, like someone who had to listen to a dog bark for hours and hours.
“Lydia, please, come over!”
“What? Why?”
“My father locked himself in his bedroom days ago! He hasn't emerged, and when he's not weeping he's breaking furniture and putting holes in the walls!”
Strange as this thought was, Lydia expressed it. “Does he have enough to drink?”
“He always keeps a supply nearby. Lydia, please comfort him!”
Lydia put her book into a drawer and closed it. Something about this kind of made her sad. She didn't enjoy it. “What can I do?”
“I'm desperate! Lydia, please, dress in a beautiful outfit! Something glamorous and expensive! He loves that! Go to him and hold him!”
“I'm not gonna do that!” Her nostrils flared.
“He punched me, Lydia.”
“Why on earth would that make me want to go over there?”
“He punched me because I broke his door open, grabbed his shoulders, and yelled at him.”
Lydia paused, and then she snorted. “Okay, you asked for that.”
“Please, come! He won't talk to anyone but you! Brunhilde came and laughed at it! The bitch actually thinks it's funny! She won't try to calm him down! She just left!”
“Fine … fine … I'll doll myself up and I'll text you when I'm on my way.”
Poor Vlad. The man was having a tantrum that lasted for days, and all over her. She didn't really think she was that important.
***
If Mihai wanted something glamorous and expensive, then Lydia decided he would get just that.
She picked out one of the more expensive gowns Vlad had purchased for her. She remembered that he bought it because he had seen her looking at it on the Internet. In reality, Lydia had been wondering how to make something similar, with slightly different details.
Well, she had the gown; it was a designer sort of gown. It was long, with a bright floral print. The flowers were very colorful, like a rainbow, and they almost looked real. Normally, Lydia didn't wear such colors all at once, blue, yellow, white, orange, and even pink. There wasn't a hint of black. The flowery gown was in a mild trumpet shape, flared from the knees. The sleeves were long and fitted, and the neckline was very high. She picked out a long lariat necklace of black beads. Lydia put her hair up into a simple low bun. She impaled the bun with a Chinese looking hair stick, made of wood, with sparkling little jewels dangling from the end.
Lydia put on as little makeup as possible, wanting to look natural, and then she left for Vlad.
The mansion looked darker than usual. Lydia parked her car in a garage and took a back door into the place. Once she had walked down a hallway inside, she could hear the weeping and moaning. Sometimes it sounded like a man crying, sometimes it sounded like a wolf whining. There was the occasional scream, which made Lydia jump.
Mihai found her; he had a black eye. Lydia had never seen him with a black eye before. She wanted to laugh, but she didn't. “I would offer you a drink, but this is an emergency.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “I'll fuck the asshole if I have to.”
“Oh, how I want to say 'That's what Prudence said,'” Mihai said as he rubbed his temple. “I'm leaving. I need to watch something funny. Bar people are funny.”
“Where's Prudence?”
Mihai's eyelid flinched. “Brunhilde took her, wanted to introduce her to some people. I need to go.”
He left then; Lydia thought the real reason he left was because he didn't want to hear his father fucking anyone.
Quickly she ran to Vlad's room; her white flats felt a little bit loose, but thankfully they didn't slip off. She banged on his door with her fist, screaming, “Deschide usa imediat, idiotule!” Open this door immediately, Idiot!
Then it was nearly silent, except for the single gasp behind the door, and the feet tapping onto the floor as Vlad apparently went to the door. Once the door was open, Lydia felt a surge of pity.
Wearing nothing but a thin cotton robe, he looked like he was between the prime of youth and old age, leaning towards old age. He was thinner (which wouldn't make any sense if she didn't know about his shape shifting abilities), and his hair was thinner too, although it was still that rich dark color. There were dark half-circles under his eyes, but they were alert, and he started at her. He was moving his lips slightly, like he was mumbling something but not saying anything at all.
Lydia made a light gesture with her hand, and Vlad complied by backing up a bit. Lydia entered his room and closed the door behind her. She looked around and said calmly, “What a brat.”
Just about every piece of furniture was broken, except the bed, which looked pristine and perfect. The only light came from the ceiling fixture. The other lamps were broken. There were broken vases too. Lydia knew she had to be careful when she walked, or else she would step on something sharp. The walls were scratched, like a beast had angrily used its claws. Some parts had crumbled depressions in it, like the wall had been hit by something.
“Vlad,” Lydia said very sweetly, “Why don't we clean up, hm?”
“Why are you here?” His voice had a weak sort of flavor in it, like it was watered down.
“Mihai said you needed comfort.” She smirked at him. “But I think you just need to clean this place up.”
“Cum poate o femeie să-mi vorbească atât de răutăcios?” How can such a woman speak to me so viciously?
Lydia stepped close to him and pressed her cheek to his chest. He seemed surprised, judging by the way his body jerked, but his arms wrapped around her so tightly that Lydia had slight difficulty breathing. She made a squealing sound, and he loosened his embrace.
She told him, “Tu esti imatur, și că e deranjant. Ești prea bătrân pentru asta.” You're immature, and that's disturbing. You're too old for this. She hugged him. “Dar, te las să mă ții.” But, I'll let you hold me.
“Lasă-mă să fac mai mult,” he begged. Let me do more.
Half an hour later, they weren't in Vlad's bedroom. They were in the kitchen. Lydia was sitting on a counter, nude. Vlad was showing her a neat little thing a peeled banana could be used for.
***
Prudence was at a pizza restaurant/bar, with Brunhilde sitting beside her, and a small group of people she really didn't know. It was kind of dim, there were some women walking around and holding their stiletto heels. Technically, she wasn't supposed to be in there. But, for some reason, nobody checked her I.D. when she went inside. The bartender was extremely gracious to Brunhilde, and kept offering drinks for free, but Brunhilde insisted on paying anyway. She didn't let Prudence drink any alcohol, and that sort of pissed Prudence off, but Prudence knew she had no right to complain.
Brunhilde had told her these people's names. She didn't remember those names. They didn't try to be friendly.
At one point, after Brunhilde made certain that Prudence had finished eating her pizza, Brunhilde said to her, “I like you, Girl. You're an innocent thing, easy to mold.”
Prudence decided to ignore her. She gave Prudence the creepiest creeps.
“It's a good thing I gave her to Mihai,” Brunhilde said to one man. “He'll keep her happy and safe. He's sweet in that way, like a Papa.”
The man replied, “You think she'd be good for certain people?”
Prudence didn't know what he meant by that, but she thought it might have something to do with murder.
Brunhilde smiled at him. “Deceit is fun when used properly. Not even a sin. Same for killing.”
And that was when Prudence wondered if she would be killing anyone; she vomited a little in her mouth.
***
“De ce ai distrus dormitorul tau?” Lydia asked Vlad in almost a whisper. She was very tired. Why did you destroy your bedroom?
“Am fost foarte supărat,” Vlad told her. I was very angry. "And, I do not wish to unleash hell upon you."
“De ce?” Why?
“Te iubesc foarte mult. Când m-ai refuzat, sufletul meu a început să mănânce departe la inima mea.” I love you very dearly. When you refused me, my soul began to eat away at my heart.
“From a spiritual standpoint, you could say the heart and soul are the same thing,” Lydia said.
Their bodies were spread out on the floor of a drawing room. There was a plate on the floor too, bearing sliced fruit. Lydia was eating some when Vlad said, “Dacă eu nu te pot proteja, Mihai va fi. Nu există nici un pericol în brațele mele.” If I cannot protect you, Mihai will. There is no danger in my arms.
She sighed, offered him some fruit. He took it without any protest. “Îmi place de tine. Recunosc asta.” I like you. I admit that. “Singurul tip de violență îmi place este un fel de ficțiune.” The only violence I like is the kind in fiction. “Dacă-mi un film de groază bun spectacol, voi fi mulțumit, dar eu nu vreau să văd oameni reali obține rănit, iar eu nu vreau să știu, fie.” If you show me a good horror film, I'd be pleased, but I don't want to see real people get hurt, and I don't want to know either.
There was a pause.
Then Vlad said, “Eu nu pot promite că nu va asista din nou violență.” I can never promise that you will never witness violence again. “Pot să promit că voi încerca să te protejeze. Pot să promit că voi asculta preocupările dumneavoastră.” I can promise that I will try to protect you. I can also promise that I will listen to your concerns.
“Does that mean you'll do what I say?”
Vlad gripped her hand with his. “No. I will try to bend to your will, but only when I think that would be a reasonable thing to do.”
“Leaving Claire Brewster alone sounds reasonable to me.”
He pulled her hand to his lips. After a kiss, he said, “I will not harass her, but when I notice hostile actions from her, I will react, and she will come to the wedding, because I hate her.”
Lydia pulled her hand away and sat up. Looking down at him, she said, “What wedding?”
Vlad grinned, and his eyes seemed a bit brighter. “Our wedding. There will be flowers, crystals, several wedding cakes, perhaps.”
“Oh my God, Nu.” Nu means no. Lydia closed her eyes and rubbed her lids with her fingertips.
“Or, we could have lovely drapery,” mused Vlad, “Gold, I like the color gold. I also like the metal. Claire va fi gelos, îmi place conceptul.” Claire will be jealous; I love the concept.
Lydia breathed out, “You're an asshole.”
“Join me for dinner tomorrow, please.”
“Eeerrrrgg … I wanna say no … but,” Lydia groaned out. “You got this … penis … and it's awesome, and … Aaaahh.” She made a pouty face. “And I like you. Damn it.” She wondered if she would get a headache soon. “And I don't like it when you throw tantrums. I don't know if I feel sorry for you or if I want to smack you, or both.”
“I like that pretty flower dress. Where is it?” He sat up too, and then he started looking around.
“You ripped it off me. I think half of it's in your room and the other half is in the kitchen.”
“Oh, scuzaţi-mă!” Oh, I'm sorry! He didn't look sorry. Vlad's mouth showed off too many teeth for him to look sorry.
“I didn't like that dress anyway. It was pretty, though.”
“Pick out another that is for sale. I will buy it.”
Lydia made a hmmmm sort of sound. Then she said, “I'm .. I'm your girlfriend.”
“Please do not call me a boyfriend. I am not a boy. I am your lover.”
Lydia made an eeeehhh sort of sound.
***
It was December. It was getting pretty cold. Lydia had noticed that she was getting a little bit of a six-pack, but it wasn't obvious. She also noticed that opening jars was easier than before. This workout routine had lovely benefits.
Sadly, she also noticed that when she met Prudence, she seemed anxious and sad, sometimes angry, and when she was happy she usually smelled like marijuana. Lydia asked Mihai about it. The man told her, “I don't mind giving her a little bit. A small amount won't harm her.”
“What if she becomes an addict?”
“I won't let her become an addict,” was Mihai's answer. “And please consider this, most marijuana smokers don't become addicted.”
“But sometimes, it happens,” Lydia told him. “She seems depressed, and she might think she needs this stuff. The only reason she's been working out is because Brunhilde insists. Normally I wouldn't give a shit about weed, but Prudence isn't acting like she's healthy.”
“The weed certainly isn't the cause of her depression, is it?”
Lydia had to admit that was obvious. “At least keep her away from alcohol and illegal stuff.”
“Well I do give her alcohol,” confessed Mihai.
She stomped her foot. “You're such a dipshit! Oprește-te!” Stop that. “You know that shit's a depressant!”
Holding his hand up in a defensive gesture, Mihai said, “No more than a single glass of something a night, I promise. I don't like to deny her anything.”
“Well then, fuck her more often! Sex is good for the brain.”
“I can't believe you just told me that.”
***
Mihai texted Brunhilde on the 2^nd day of December, close to the evening. “Why don't you hurry up and bite her? The wait is more torturous than the action.”
Brunhilde replied to him, “It's difficult to explain, and so I won't.”
The next morning, Mihai was woken up by Prudence's laughter at a model in a magazine. She was sitting beside his bed, and he wasn't sure why; she smelled very much like weed. “I need to sleep. Go laugh somewhere else.”
“Mihai!” She stretched out the “ai” part of his name in a childish way. “This girl looks like you!”
He humored her for a moment, looking at the picture. “She's Japanese, and she's wearing a pink wig. Now, go online shopping, or eat something, just let me sleep.”
Prudence laughed at him, but she kissed his mouth and left the room. Mihai noticed that she left a lit joint in an ashtray on the floor. He put it out and went back to sleep.
***
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River Princess