Saturday, April 05, 2008

Ghostopia (Chapter 3)

Another month passes without ABSOLUTELY NOTHING happening in the world of Twisted Tales! A lot has happened in the real world, though - namely, the 12th Malaysian General Election. And boy, am I proud to have contributed to this unforgettable chapter in national history. And though wrongly skeptical, my poem 'There's Something In The Air' shall always be one that perfectly captured the emotions of the moment.
Ghostopia (Chapter 3)

"Anytime now," Mortie whispered to Darren. "You're a patient one."

They were in a dingy bar with neon lights screaming THE HAUNT. Several rows of tables with lifeless onlookers bordered a stage, where a solitary girl strummed and sang along to Nirvana's Come As You Are, face half-hidden in the dim lights.

"Here in Ghostopia, we only have music from dead artistes." Mortie winked at him. "Your John Denvers, Freddie Mercurys, Selenas, Aaliyahs and Pavarottis."

Darren nodded, genuinely interested. "Tell me again. When do we meet this group of yours?"

"This should be her last song," he gestured onstage. "Then we can start. Lester should be here already."
So she's one of the members too, Darren thought to himself. Will the surprises never end.

"And in case you're wondering," Mortie added. "We call ourselves Ezisa. It's Greek for life."


"Fellow believers of life," Mortie sat them down around a table in a smoke-stenched room backstage. "May I introduce to you Mr. Darren."

Silence. Except for perhaps an inaudible sneer by the girl.

"Mr. Darren is the Luckbearer that I've been talking about. Mr. Darren, this is Mr. Lester, our Strongman."

Darren nodded at a long-haired brute opposite him. Like what Mortie said, he sure looked slow of mind.

"And this is Ms. Kat, our Swiftling."

"Don't call me that. I hate it." she snapped back. She was a girl of medium build, no older than twenty, with a noticeable penchant for gothic-inspired fashion.

"So long as you are in the Ezisa, you shall abide by my rules." Mortie reiliterated in a stern tone.

She kept silent, visibly displeased.

"Now that we're all finally here, it is time for the Great Ghostopia Escape to begin." Mortie handed everyone a sheet. "Pass this round."

It was a detailed blueprint sketch of a tower of some sorts.

"In 14 days, the Tower of Souls opens. The most massive construction project ever undertaken by the Ghostopian authorities. A central meeting point for soul collection, enforcement, administration and research."

"Inside the Tower lies a top-secret Exorcism Chamber - and therein is our key to escape. For he who steps into the Chamber shall gain powers of walking backwards through the gates of Ghostopia."

"Now," Mortie unfurled the blueprint across the table. "As this will be only time the Tower is accessible to public, security shall be at an all-time high. There is no way we can waltz in and out alive."

"But on the other hand, security shall be at an all-time low too, if you know what I mean. The sheer size of the crowds and traffic - an unimaginable logistics nightmare for the big boys."

"How do we magnify this advantage?" Mortie smiled. "We create more chaos and disorder. We blow up the place."