“You will bring fire and death, Kent Wayne.”
Ugh…am I dreaming? No—the alarm clark says 3 am…who the hell has the cojones to break into my home at three in the FREAKIN’ MORNI—
AAAGHH! I bolt straight up, staring at the ghostly visage of Martha Stewart.
“Don’t fist me!” I scream, curling up into a fetal position. I’m well aware she’s done hard time; I have no doubt that my amateurish jiu-jitsu is no match for her blood-anointed fists, baptized in the dripping organs of fearsome gang members.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not the REAL Martha Stewart—I’m the Ghost of Christmas future. I’m here to show you what happens if you don’t cease your Man Whore antics and get to work on your damn books.”
I crinkle my brow. “But what about the Ghosts of Christmas past and present? How come they didn’t decide to—”
“Visit you?” She hisses through her teeth and looks sideways. “How do I put this…you’re not exactly popular among spectral manifestations of the divine essence; your singing in the shower is nothing short of horrible.”
Now it’s MY turn to roll my eyes. “Come ON…so I like to sing a little Taylor Swift when I’m scrubbing my nethers. Are you going to hold THAT against m—”
“You also fart yourself awake. It’s fucking disgusting, Kent.”
A long, awkward silence.
She clears her throat. “Anyways…here we go.”
She snaps her fingers, and the walls puddle into a morphing soup of apocalyptic imagery; Douche Bros swamp the earth, setting up internment camps where people are forced to wear popped-collar shirts and restricted to bicep curls as their sole form of exercise. Red magma spills from the ground, turning vast swaths of forest into cracked, desolate hellscapes. Soccer moms are carted into trucks and locked away, and I’m forever denied from frolicking amongst them in my heart-n-happy-face dotted underoos.
“No,” I gasp. “NO! MAKE IT STOP!”
“Only one way to make it stop,” she says. “Embrace your destiny, Kent.”
“FINE!” I scream. “FINE!”
I reach deep into my psyche, and weave together the remaining concepts of Echo, activating their reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
I bolt straight up in my bed, staring at the walls of my darkened room. The alarm clark reads 5 am—right in my wakeup window. I throw on my Christmas Pants (festive speedos, basically), sit down in front of my laptop, crack my knuckles, and get to work.
Echo 4 is coming! 😉
Has some craze-hole apparition given you a not-so-subtle hint to stop dicking around, lest the entire world devolve into a post-apocalyptic hellscape? 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