A thought hit Harry like a bolt – "Hang on, hang on," he said, swiveling his head in disbelief. "I don't believe in ghosts!"
Ian's response was swift, "I told you, I'm not a ghost, I'm a Return." He moved toward Harry and tapped his shoulder, "Did you feel that?" He asked.
"Yeah, I did."
Ian smiled, "See, you can't feel ghosts." He pulled up a chair, sat down and addressed both Gwen and Harry, "Think of me like damaged or unwanted goods, returned to their place of purchase for a full refund." He chuckled to himself, "Except in the case of us, we're returned to our place of origin for a full forfeit." Explained Ian.
Gwen was wide eyed with awe and wonder, "What will you have to forfeit?" She asked.
Ian stood up and traced his finger around his newly stapled head, "Eternal salvation; there's no rest for the wicked. I'll stay like this, an ever rotting corpse, for eternity," he said.
Gwen was eager for more and asked, "But a forfeit is like a punishment for doing something wrong, you haven't, or didn't do anything wrong,"
Ian pointed upwards, "That's not what the powers that be think." He turned to face Harry, "They deemed burying you alive to be punishable by eternal return." He sat back down, "To be fair, they did give me options, but I didn't hesitate to take the Return – because I'm determined my folks don't think I killed myself. And I can only do that by being a Return and having mortals like you help them realize that," he explained.
Harry held back and observed his friends Ian and Gwen; he studied their body language, he carefully watched their interactions, and viewed their exchange with a growing suspicion.
Gwen noticed his stare, "You're being quiet Harry," she said, with the hint of a question in her inflection.
Harry nodded his head, "This isn't for real; you two have planned this." He began darting around Gwen's room, searching, "This is one of those elaborate pranks that you see doing the rounds on the net." He continued to scour the room, "I have to admit, the head hanging off illusion was amazing – good work guys."
Gwen grew impatient, "What you looking for Harry?" She asked.
"The cameras, I wanna make sure they get my best side. If I'm going viral on YouTube I wanna make sure I look good," He said, running his hands through his thick mane of brown waves.
Gwen sighed, "You won't find any Harry; and like Ian said earlier, the only likelihood of you going viral is if the guy with the dog goes to the press and spills the 'Burial Alive' story, which won't reflect well at your up-coming audition, will it?" She asked.
This time Harry grew impatient, "Guys, I wasn't born yesterday, I don't buy all this returned crap!" He said, his voice rising, but not to that of a shout.
An urgent rapping at the door caused, Gwen, Ian and Harry's heads to swivel towards it. A man's voice boomed, "Gwen, you ok ghoul girl, I hear raised voices?" Asked her father.
Gwen reacted with surprise and a look of what Harry read to be guilt, "Dad, you're back early," she said, while whispering and gesticulating wildly to Ian, "Hide, hide, hide!" But Ian didn't, he just stood there, right in front of the door.
Her father's tone carried a little concern, "Mum left her purse, I've come to pick it up..."
...Harry smiled smugly and interrupted him, "Come on in Mr Carter, Ian and I would like to meet you," he said. Gwen shot Harry a look that would wither a rose, but Harry ignored it, happy his friends had been rumbled.
