Beetlejuice Attic Novels & Stories

Just when I’d almost lost hope, the baby kicked. “I know, honey,” I said in the dark of the dusty attic as I fell asleep, “I’m here.” A bang rattled the window in the attic. Waking up with a jerk, I looked around the room confused. I was still in the attic, not at home like I’d been dreaming, an unearthly noise kicking up. The first bangs were on the door, flashing lights outside cutting through the night. More

I growled, grabbing the wooden rungs and pulling myself up into the gloom of the attic. ​The attic was a sprawling, dusty maze of old furniture, forgotten trunk cases, and canvas-covered paintings. The air was thick with the smell of dried lavender and old wood. Beams of late afternoon light cut through the small round window at the far end, illuminating millions of floating dust motes. ​"Leo, stop playing games," I said, walking slowly through the narrow pathways between the stacked boxes. "That notebook is private." ​A soft rustle came from behind a tall stack of leather trunks. I crept forward on tiptoe, peering around the corner to catch him—but the space was empty.

When we reached the bedroom, Alaric leaned his shoulder carefully against the door to nudge it open, then stepped inside. I reached for the wall panel, pressing the dimmer switch. Warm light slowly flooded the room. Atticus’s bedroom was big. Almost absurdly so for a six-year-old. The walls were painted a muted forest green with intricate crown molding and tall arched windows framed with linen drapes. Near the corner, a floor-to-ceiling built-in shelf housed neat rows of hardbound storybooks and collectible models.

He said nothing in reply so I guess he didn't. There were a couple party goers in the garage as well, but they were either too busy making out or being drunk to pay me any mind. I dragged the step ladder under the hatch and unlocked it. The attic was done simply. A medium sized bed, a dresser, a blue bean bag and dim lights. There was a mini fridge, and a small microwave as well and someone had filled a tin bucket with snacks. I had to crouch a little to move around and that got annoying, but I didn't have any better living options for the moment.

The silence pressed against me from all sides. My attention shifted toward the ceiling. A small hatch was hidden above the hallway outside the room. The attic. Something inside me immediately wanted to check it. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe paranoia. Maybe desperation. I wasn't even sure anymore. I dragged an old chair beneath the hatch and pushed it open. Dust rained down onto my shoulders. The smell hit me immediately. Old wood. Mold. Forgotten things. I climbed up slowly and pulled myself into the attic. Darkness surrounded me except for a few thin beams of sunlight pushing through cracks in the roof. Boxes were stacked everywhere. Furniture covered with sheets sat abandoned in corners. T

“And the pond’s a bonus, but it’ll need fencing off somehow. Henry’s too curious for his own good.” Jayden nods, but I can tell his mind is elsewhere. “How big is the attic?” “It’s a good size,” I reply. “Full of stuff leftover from the estate sale, according to the listing. The kids already have their eyes on it, but no one’s going up there until I know it’s safe. And we’re checking everything to make sure it’s not hiding a priceless artifact we can’t replace.” Jayden nods. “Like the estate.” “Exactly.”

“Little girl, do you have any idea what happened to the last player who tried that? He didn’t even make it through the first night. The next morning, all they found was a human-shaped bloodstain on the floor!” "Guess he had bad manners," I said, starting up the stairs. "I'll be sure to knock." The entire manor fell silent. Everyone stared at me like I was a lunatic. I reached the fourth floor. There was only one door, with a rusty plaque that read: "Attic Suite." The lock was an old mechanical type. I pulled a paper clip from my pocket. Bent it into shape. Slid it into the keyhole and gave it a few twists.

“What did you do?” “No time for explanations!” Within a second I was cradled in his arms, and we were taking off down the hall, racing up the steps to the second, then third level. Jude’s magic snaked out and yanked down the ladder to the attic. He helped me through first, then hoisted himself up. The attic had a low, arched ceiling and a single circular window at the far end of the room. Jude pulled the ladder up and smiled at me, this crooked thing that sent my heart all aflutter.

The rooms up here are just as damaged and vandalized as downstairs, with cracks in the drywall and water damage from rain and snow. There’s a spiral staircase in a closet, which seems a little strange to me at first. There are no lights up here, so Lucas and I both get out our phones for light. Lucas doesn’t need it, of course, but the extra light helps me see. The attic is large, with tall ceilings and solid wood flooring. The energy shifts again, and I’m picking up something more personal…like a specific energy belonging to one person. “What’s through here?” I ask, pointing to a little door in the wall.

Callie opened her eyes and she was inside the attic, she looked around and realized it wasn’t hers but she also recognized it. She had been there before. It looked like the same attic where she saw the boy with the green eyes, she spun around and saw a mirror with bronze framing, it had carvings all over it. She walked over curious, her fingers traced all over the carvings committing everything to memory. It was very fine work and she smiled her eyes appreciating it. She took a step back and decided to explore the rest of the attic.