Echoes Of Us Novels & Stories

“Let’s guarantee this agreement remains enlightening.” Our time with the Echo Searchers permitted us to encounter the significant association between their realm’s echoes and the sense of concordance and solidarity that they brought. As we dove more profound into their culture, we learned that their capacity to harness the control of sound played a crucial part in keeping up the balance of the Echoing Caverns.

Ghost POV Echo isn’t in the main room, so I head for his room. Of course, I hear the noises before I even knock. He’s busy, someone’s moaning his name, but this can’t fucking wait. I knock anyway. A groan answers me. “Whoever it is, you better be dying.” The door swings open. Echo’s standing there, completely naked, eyes dark with irritation. “What now? I swear down, I’m done with your fucking bullshit.”

The air was still cold, the temperature having dropped significantly due to the Echo Wraith. The Echo Wraith is a haunting presence within the Cavern of Eternal Echoes, a place known for its labyrinthine complexity and the disturbing resonance of every sound. It glides silently through the caverns, leaving behind a trail of maddening echoes. These echoes are warped, amplified distortions that play on the deepest insecurities and fears of those who hear them. They take on the voices of the damned, whispering hidden regrets and unconfessed sins, often blending them with a cacophony of falsehoods to disorient and unsettle their victims.

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.

The echoes are still there, waiting, and they’ll be louder than ever when we return. 🖤 Echoes of Ruin resumes January 1st.

“Fear makes men sloppy.” The engine rolled them into darkness. Gravel fell away. Night swallowed their tail. Back at the motel that wasn’t a motel—three units near a highway exit rented cash to truckers and ghosts—Ethan spread his kit across a table that had seen better days in another decade. He fed the piezo’s first hour into the recorder, set a spectral view on the laptop, and watched sound turn into colored threads. Voices rose as stitched waves. He isolated three lanes and let them play.

"Three years ago, I sensed Valentina's passing and tried to report it to the Elders, but your people grabbed me before I even left the house and threw me straight into the isolation ward!" Alexander's voice was hoarse as he argued, a reflex more than a belief. "That can't be right. If Valentina were dead, I would have sensed it... This is all a lie!" "A darkened Moonstone records its holder's final moments! If you don't believe me, ask the Elders for a Restoration Crystal and see the truth for yourself!" Vivian's face went chalk-white. "Rebecca, you've had a mental break. Nothing you say can be trusted." She gripped Alexander's arm tightly. "Don't let her poison you against me."

She still wanted our bond even after everything that I had done to her. It was as if the universe was listening to my thoughts or some shit because I heard my voice echoing in the auditorium. “You’ll fight me until you can’t. And when you finally break, when you surrender—I’ll be there to show you what all of my whores like. You’ll be begging me not to stop. You’ll beg for my dick like a good little bitch. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll give you a taste.”

“It sounded like the next fight.” Somewhere deep within ECHO-3, systems reset. Files unlocked. Secrets stirred. The mirror was broken. But the world that made it was still watching.

Cold bit our skin. Then a sound echoed through the dark. Something hit a metal in the distance. Not from my men. I raised my hand to halt the others. There it was again. Closer. We weren’t alone…