Echo: A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

Splinter gravely intones, “Death comes for us all, Oroku Saki, but something much worse comes for you.  For when you die, it will be…”

Shredder throws a hidden knife and Splinter catches it, releasing the spear and letting Shredder fall from the building and land in the back of a garbage truck.

“…without honor.”

Casey Jones chirps, “Oops!” and pulls the lever of the garbage truck, activating its compactor.

“YEAAAAAHHHH!!!”  I bolt up in my bean bag and start punching the air.  Popcorn flies from my mouth as I cheer Splinter on.  My wild flailing makes me tumble to the floor, and Bitefighter, my loyal buddy and 10 lb. Terrier Extraordinaire, barks happily.  His hungry little face works at full speed as he wolfs down errant bits of popcorn.

I chase the puffy treats down with a cold pull of Mountain Dew.  Aaaah…the finest nectar on God’s green earth!  I wipe my mouth with the back of my wrist and take a seat at my desk, humming the best rap song of all time:  “T-u-r-t-l-e POWER, T-u-r-t-l-e POWER…”

(I have to force myself not to cry when those evil Hand fuckers are beating the crap out of Raph)

Alright.  Time to knock out some word count.  I start plinking away, letting magical absurdity flow onto the word doc.  It’s like being high on weed, but without any of the fuzziness.  

Suddenly, I feel an abrupt dissonance bloom in my mind.  My fingers hover uncertainly above the keyboard…then fly across the letters.  This is what they type:

“NiGh comes the Quantum BeelzeBUB, all shall reek of the Diurnal maleficence.”

What the FUCK?  My fingers keep going:

“Render the blastwave of a thousand souls; feeling, gasping, clawing for air…eating the maggots of a thousand tragedies.”

A wave of vomit surges up my throat and past my lips.  Half-digested popcorn sprays across the keys.  Oh God, I know what this is…

“Loam sparkles in dead relief, shining pale corpselight off our masticated retinas.”

HHHLLLGLLLORP!  More vomit comes spraying out my mouth.  My eyes leak blood, tinging my vision with stark red haze.  I shut them tightly, and use my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles-derived meditation powers to spiral deep into my own psyche.

WITHIN THE PSYCHE OF KENT WAYNE:

I brush away a four-legged penis that’s sniffing my face.  Everywhere I look I see armies of cyborgs, dinosaurs, and circuitry-threaded swords wheeling through the void.  Hmm…everything SEEMS to be in place, but I know there’s an emo-poet lurking in here somewhere…Aha!

I spot a pale, non-muscled fuck who’s spent a fortune on hair dye and Hot Topic apparel.  He’s seated at a floating desk, tapping away at a computer that shows a first-person point of view looking out from my eyes.  It’s a little disconcerting; his computer is displaying ANOTHER computer with my hands at its keyboard.

“HEY!”  I flex my will and propel my consciousness toward Emo McFuckstick.  “STOP FUCKING WITH MY DRAFT!”

He turns and spots me.  His eyes widen, then narrow.  He opens his mouth, ejecting black tendrils of vile-ass verses—emo-poetry.  They wrap tightly around my astral form and stretch my limbs; in a matter of seconds, I’m splayed out like a dude on a torture rack.  SHIT!

He wafts toward me, giggling like a serial killer.  No options left.  I blast an astral call to my deepest self, the one that holds all the stories.  It responds by tapping the narrative called Echo, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

Luminous blazes slice through my bonds, and I yank free with an angry yell.  I put my hands together like Ryu in Street Fighter and channel a concentrated stream of novelty out from my palms.  It envelops this evil fuckhead, ravaging his soul with an incandescent stream of Dragonball-Z-style energy.  He screams and withers; his form is torn apart by Bat symbols, X-Wings, and miniature instantiations of comic book characters.

FUCK YOU, emo-poetry!  Ha HA!

After I vanquish my enemy and make it back to my body, I blink my eyes open and shake my head.  I’m always a little fuzzy after peering into the warped depths of my own psyche…

But no matter!  I crack my knuckles and get back to work.  I’m still riding a wave of inspiration from the turtle rap, so I decide to write one of my own:

“Emo ma’fuckers be invadin’ my mind,

Trynna fill my head with shit-stained rhymes,

I tap my ill-ass powers, conjure novelty showers,

Kill my corny enemy, using cyborg entities.

Back to eatin’ slices, drinkin’ Code Red niceness,

The Man Whore Way is nothing short of priceless.

Just another day in the life of Kent Wayne,

Though the haters like to say I’m all dick and no brains.”

(Okay, so my rap game needs a little work.  Don’t worry—I’m not taking off my author hat any time soon!  😀 )

 

Is your freewheeling drafting being interrupted by some evil denizen that lives to spread Whine?  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  Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here:  Combined Edition  #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book

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