Echoes Death Novels & Stories

I instructed the dead, who glided towards the battle that had come into view. Watching as they moved through the soldiers like a sweeping wind, leaving a pile of carnage in their wake. Once an echo touched or went through a soldier, killing him – that echo would vaporize, his work - done. It seemed they could not hold onto their form in this plane for long after taking a life. Their energy used - they would return from whence they came.

She hisses and grabs the fleshy parts of his cheeks to force his jaws part, "Cat got your tongue?" Jayden sobs and huddles up into a corner, "Alora-" "Alora's not here right now." Iphigenia cackles away. The lights flicker and the shadows crash in on them like a tsunami of black water. Their panicked gazes are the only thing visible in the darkness. I am Death. She whispers to them, claws scratching on the wooden floors. They both flinch away from her as she circles around them-she treads around them with the triumphant steps of a victor. The building shakes under the gravity of her paws.

*Echoes* My pain My sorrow Reverts back at me Like a house Without a thing. I tried filling it up with Joy And love but darkness still painted them black. Maybe I'm not meant For this; I mean Happiness and Love isn't meant for me. Sadness Darkness Is where I belong and maybe suicide would be the end of me. My thoughts are blank My thinking is blocked Echoes of my empty cobwebbed mind is all I hear. *©Gemini Pride*

His death was drawing near. "P...pl...please...d..don't..." He started crying; he was seeing the devil, standing right on his shoulder, prepared to kill him any second. "You know, I could have just asked the gang leader to kill you, but I wanted to show you what I'm capable of. That the power of the Astley family never dies." She walked in front of him. "I...I'm sorry...Mam...please forgive me..." He kept repeating; his voice increased each time he said it. But it didn't affect her at all. It seemed as though she couldn't hear him; no one could cause they didn't even look at him.

“Echo!” The spirit’s voice resounded throughout the crumbling chamber. “Awaken your memories, Child of Two Worlds. Only then can you decide who lives… and who dies.” Echo’s breath became shallow as images flashed before her eyes—blood, flames, a wailing infant, and a silver-eyed stranger carrying her away. “ENOUGH!” Rylan shouted. Yet the light only intensified—until it abruptly vanished. Silence enveloped them. Echo fell against Rylan, trembling uncontrollably. He held her tightly, his voice wavering.

I opened my eyes to the dark. “Then let him come.” Far from Hollow Base, beneath the ruins of the first lab, Subject One stood in silence. Behind him, rows of dark figures rose from long-sealed chambers. They are not clones and not soldiers either. They are Echoes, early test subjects that were rejected and forgotten. Now waking. He turned toward them, eyes glowing violet. “She’s ready,” he said. “And so are we.” And the mountain shook.

In that moment, Thomas knew that love's echoes were not confined to a single lifetime—they were timeless, eternal, and forever. Their love story was a testament to the resilience of the human heart, the power of second chances, and the enduring legacy of love. It was a symphony that echoed through the ages—a melody that would inspire generations to come. With grateful hearts and spirits entwined, Thomas and Emily walked hand in hand, their love's endless refrain guiding their steps. And as they journeyed together, their love painted a masterpiece across the canvas of their lives—a testament to the enduring power of love's echoes and the beauty that could emerge from its timeless symphony.

"But it’s three years too late. Goodnight. Eighty-eight days left." I walked past him, my footsteps silent against the Persian rug. I didn't look back as I reached the heavy oak doors, but I could feel his gaze burning into my spine. Silas Sterling was standing alone in his sanctuary, completely paralyzed by the horrifying realization that he hadn't just lost a wife. He had lost a queen he never bothered to crown.

POV: Zina The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, but the sound might as well have been a gunshot for how violently my heart jolted. I stepped out onto the marble floor, the sharp click of my heels echoing down the hall like a countdown to my execution. Jared's words replayed in my head. You don't owe him anything. Don't let him corner you. I gripped the strap of my bag tighter, knuckles white. The conference room loomed at the end of the corridor, its glass walls revealing shadowy silhouettes inside. My reflection stared back at me as I passed, pale and drawn—a ghost of the woman I used to be.

The second time she felt Lena's hand on her shoulder, and then Jax's beside it, and the three of them stood there in the warehouse morning light watching a sixteen-year-old boy figure out he had agency over his own desire, and nobody said anything, because there wasn't anything to say that would have been better than the silence. Then another story. A woman in her forties, sitting at a kitchen table with the careful composure of someone who has been crying for a long time and has recently stopped. She spoke in a level voice about her husband. About the loop he had been in when he died. About how she had avoided Echo entirely since then, had stopped using anything neural, had thrown her heads