"Who amongst you wants to live again?"
Every face in the room lit up as the other Ghosts affirmed with much excitement. Darren didn't know how to react.
Seeing his uncertainty, Mortie pointed at him. "You...David, right?"
"Beg your pardon, Darren. Now, as I was asking the room, do you not want to live again?"
"I-I don't quite get what you mean."
"Sheesh, it's amazing how young people these days know how to speak but not listen," Mortie clicked his tongue. "Wasn't my question straightforward enough - do you want to live again?"
Hmm. Wasn't this the same guy who told him that he would remain dead "till the skies part"? Surely he didn't mean "live again" in the literal sense.
"Ha ha, he probably thinks you're selling him some beauty product." Kat cracked.
As if on cue everyone burst out laughing. Darren played along sheepishly.
"All right - let me totally, absolutely, utterly clue you in," Mortie wiped away some tears. "Our group here, which I assume you're now part of, is called-"
"Shhh," Kat hushed Darren. "Let him finish."
"We call ourselves the Ezisa, a low-profile group made up of Ghosts with a single mission: to get a second chance at life."
"WHAT? You mean all of you are going to bring yourselves back to life?"
"Now you're talking my language."
"But how? You said to me yourself it would be impossible."
"Why...have you forgotten that I guard the gates of Ghostopia?"
"So we're just going to waltz through the gates, back into the world of the living?"
"That," Mortie pursed his lips. "Would be the ultimate objective. But before that happens, we've got a heck lot of corners to bend."
"Really? Explain." Darren found himself drawn in.
"Good. You're interested. But you have to understand that we cannot give away too much to everyone who walks through that door. We are, after all, not exactly in the good books."