It is I! Gnish-Gnash! King of all chihuahuas! Long have we hunted the foul cretins that go by the name of Kent Wayne (dumb sci fi author) and Bitefighter, his Terrier champion! Today—through the use of psychomantic technology—I have disassembled Bitefighter’s causal form and stuffed his essence into a psionic prison that exists deep within my mind! My Dark Lord Bieber’s Chief Majestrix—Damios Elkrikto—has done the same with Kent Wayne!
(To be honest, Kent Wayne got much more credit than he deserved. It wasn’t by any measure of skill or worth that he evaded our forces. The sheer horror of his flatulence foiled dozens of our hunter/killer teams, and in dire scenarios, he managed to make his pursuers lose their composure through his goofy Man Child dancing. I have never understood how such moronic shenanigans could ever be considered amusing.)
Bitefighter is a different story altogether. The little shit has an 83rd level intellect, and not only is he blessed with an eidetic memory, but he also possesses a tactical and organizational acumen that would rival Genghis Khan’s. We were only able to trap him by hiring the best Labrador prostitutes that money can buy. After fucking hundreds of harlots, every ounce of sperm was drained from his body and he collapsed into a witless stupor. That’s when we took him.
(For some reason, he prefers to have intercourse with bigger dogs. I suspect this behavior stems from a severe case of Napoleon complex.)
Regardless, Bitefighter is buried seven levels deep in my psyche, where he resides in a psychogenic hell that is held together by the barest semblance of space and time. Imagine the old man scene in Inception…times a million. There’s no way he’s breaking out of my mind. Kent Wayne is in a similar situation—Chief Majestrix Damios has stuffed the overly muscled goof into a mental trap that would stymy Batman himself.
Right now I’m striding through the Traitor’s Kennels, the region of Bieber’s palace where we keep all “dogs” (please—spare me the pretense; if you ain’t chihuahua, then you ain’t shit) that fail to satisfy the definition of chihuahua. These inferior mongrels will rot in their own waste if they are lucky, or if they aren’t, they’ll be used as test subjects in my experimental weapons research. Perhaps I will turn a few of them into my personal whores. I am a harsh but fair master, and if some of them show promise…
Wait. What was that?
I feel it again—the hint of…could it be? Could Bitefighter actually…no. Impossible.
But hold on—there it is again! Bitefighter is still sane! His consciousness is still intact!
My lip curls in amusement. Fight all you want, Terrier, but there’s no way that—
And then I feel him opening a concept for a book called Echo. My vision is eclipsed by blinding light. Horror flashes through my mind as I realize that Echo contains an 11th dimensional mnemonic, one that is capable of distorting reality. And then it’s all unwinding; every experience in my entire life is being pulled apart at the seams!
BAM! Bitefighter’s in control now! FUCK you, Gnish-gnash!
I close my eyes and tap into a carefully assembled, telekinetic reservoir I’ve been saving for just this moment. Gnish-gnash’s body begins reconfiguring at the atomic level. The transformation scales up, and strands of his DNA quickly rewrite themselves and then wind back together. In a matter of seconds, the disgustingly frail chihuahua body I’ve been inhabiting morphs into the eight-packed, super handsome Terrier body that I’m used to walking around in.
(I have to briefly resist the urge to sing “Bitefighter’s back—all right!” to the tune of Backstreet Boys’ classic hit, “Everybody.”)
I see Chief Majestrix Damios running toward me, his long face drawn up in a nasty, Gargamel-esque snarl. I utter three words:
“Man Whore arise.”
The transmundane cue activates the latent spell in Kent Wayne’s psyche. Damios freezes in place, staring intently at nothing…as if he’s afraid he’s going to puke. Then he begins jiggling and shaking. Blue-green energy writhes up his form. He throws his head back and flings his arms wide.
Damios collapses in place, now transformed into a diesel-ass Man Whore dressed in booty shorts and a bow tie. When he raises his head, I see that it’s no longer Damios, but the welcome face of my pet human:
Kent motha fuckin’ Wayne.
“Hey buddy!” He spreads his arms wide and I jump into them. He knows the routine: his fingers go on autopilot and deliver premium scratchies directly to my belly and just behind my ears. After exchanging pleasantries, he lowers me to the floor and we sprint through the echoing halls of Bieber’s fortress.
We’ll come back and lay waste to this half-man’s enclave, but shit, we’ve just spent YEARS locked in the dickfaced minds of his evil servants; we both need a break.
There’s pizza to eat and Labradors to hump!
Has one of Bieber’s dark minions trapped you in a psychomantic well of unending suffering? Never fear! Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book