In all honesty nobody had mourned the death of Thomas Everett and for good reason as well. Not too many people showed up at his funeral eitherâ€¦ or rather the mob equivalent of a funeral for someone who pissed them off. But it wasnâ€™t just the mob he pissed off with his antics, it was a hell of a lot of people as well, and there were probably a few people who took the liberty of pissing on his grave for all he has done. The mob had just gotten to him before some of those bigger and scarier people had gotten a hold of him. That being said it was probably needless to say that his death had been a pretty gruesome one that was for sure; not only was he tortured they had chopped his head off. If it were not for the cops showing up and busting them that day he probably would have been thrown off a bridge and his body would have never been found that day.<br/><br/>The feeling of being pulled out of the afterlife was not something that was particularly comfortable. It felt like he was being dragged through of a fast current of water, pulled against the strong current that wanted so desperately to keep him under. Even though he was dead he could almost feel the magic wrapping itself around him as it pulled him out of that metaphorical river. It was forcing him back into the world of the living.<br/><br/>Suddenly the temperature dropped which was a sign that there was a spirit present. There was a strong wind blowing not just around the one summoning him from the afterlife but throughout the entire area. It was a cold and unnatural wind that chilled the bone and even made the birds not want to stay in the area. Evil seemed to fill the atmosphere as well. In response to that evil the world of the living seemed to put up a defense mechanism and began to reject the magic in its own way but the one casting the spell was much too powerful to be stopped. The wind seemed to pick up more and emitted an eerie howl and the sky seemed to darken for a moment though no rain began to fall. In fact there was not the slightest hint of a storm beginning to brew, just the protest of evil being brought back into the world. The spell has been cast and truth be told there really was not much one could do without physically doing something to stop it.<br/><br/>One minute he was surrounded by nothing but blackness, next minute Thomas materialized in a flash in front of his summoner. He was a spirit at first but soon air filled his lungs, causing him to cough and fall to his knees as he tried to fathom just what the fuck was going on. The first thing he did was touch his neck to find his head was on his shoulders. He remembered dying, how he died, but everything before that was one big blur. Thinking made his head hurt so he decided to take his focus elsewhere for the time being. He felt like he was about to throw up, all his willpower at the moment was spent keeping himself from doing so, and the world was still spinning. His body felt like he had plummeted from the sky at a million miles per hour which contributed to him feeling sick as well.<br/><br/>After he collected himself enough to stand, he looked at the man who brought him back from the dead with a seemingly blank stare. Finding that he didnâ€™t have anything to say, still trying to recover, he noticed that there was a birdbath nearby and he went to look at his reflection just to make sure he was not dreaming. There was not a lot of water in the birdbath but it was at least enough for him to look at his reflection. He was wearing the same clothes he had on the day he died and surprisingly they were intact though he noticed he wasnâ€™t wearing any shoes. He has been dead for almost five years now, he would have expected them to be soiled and disgustingâ€¦ or maybe this was just a part of that strange magic that man used. His eyes, once a fairly vibrant color, were now a duller amber than they use to be and his skin looked pale.<br/><br/>The word â€˜ghostâ€™ came to mind and he immediately decided it was suitable.<br/><br/>Smiling to himself, he looked back to the man who summoned him. â€œI feel like I should shake your hand and buy you a beer!â€ He said with a strange enthusiasm. Getting a little closer to the guy, he reached out and patted him on the shoulder. â€œHell isnâ€™t a comfortable place, let me tell youâ€¦ Wait is this temporary?â€ He arched a brow when he asked his question. Now that he thought of it who the hell would want to resurrect him and give him a second chance at life? After everything he has done he knew people were glad he was dead and he had no regrets either. So... why..? It really confused the hell out of him to say the least.