Each week, I send out a story via my email newsletter. Each story is around 1000 words, sometimes less, sometimes more. The stories are in a variety of genres: supernatural, thriller, sci-fi, horror, and sometimes romance, and all of my stories typically feature a gay protagonist.
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This is story number 29 of the series. Enjoy!
Eternal Echo
Colton stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, his hazel eyes bloodshot from another sleepless night. The weight of countless lifetimes pressed down on his shoulders, threatening to crush him. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to shake off the fog of memories that weren’t supposed to be his.
“Get it together, man,” he muttered to himself. “You’re Colton Henderson, 32 years old, software engineer. That’s all that matters right now.”
But it wasn’t all that mattered. Colton remembered being a Roman soldier, a medieval peasant, a Renaissance artist, a Wild West outlaw, and so much more. Every life, every death, every joy and sorrow – it was all there, crystal clear in his mind.
He dried his face and stumbled into the kitchen of his modest apartment. The coffee maker gurgled to life, filling the air with the rich aroma of freshly ground beans. Colton’s gaze drifted to the small safe hidden behind a loose baseboard. Inside was a fortune in gold coins and gemstones, carefully stashed away over multiple lifetimes.
“At least I’ll never go hungry,” he said with a bitter laugh.
As he sipped his coffee, Colton’s mind wandered to his last death – a deliberate overdose in a seedy motel room. He’d hoped it would end the cycle, give him some peace. Instead, he’d woken up nine months later in a hospital nursery, screaming his lungs out. Six years later, he was once again overwhelmed by the memories flooding back.
The shrill ring of his phone jolted him back to the present. Colton answered without checking the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Henderson?” a crisp, professional voice asked. “This is Dr. Patel from Summerville Research Institute. We’d like to schedule you for some follow-up tests regarding your… unique condition.”
Colton’s stomach clenched. He’d made the mistake of confiding in a therapist about his past lives, which had led to a series of increasingly invasive medical exams. Now he felt like a lab rat, poked and prodded by researchers who couldn’t begin to understand what he was going through. Hell, most of them didn’t even believe him.
“Sorry but I’m done with tests,” Colton said firmly. “Find yourself another guinea pig.”
He hung up before Dr. Patel could protest. His hands shook as he set the phone down. Colton knew he couldn’t keep living like this. The memories were becoming too much to bear, threatening to drown out his current life entirely.
“Maybe this time I’ll try something more permanent,” he whispered, eyeing the kitchen knives, though he knew deep down that this would only postpone his suffering until he woke up once again in a new life.
A knock at the door interrupted his dark thoughts. Colton hesitated, then shuffled over to answer it. He opened the door to find a tall, lanky man with shining blond hair and kind blue eyes.
“Can I help you?” Colton asked warily.
The man smiled. “Hello, Colton. Or should I say, Marcus? Æthelred? Giovanni? Take your pick – we’ve known each other by many names.”
Colton stumbled backward, his mind reeling. “What… how do you…?”
“My name is Milo,” the man said, stepping inside and closing the door. “And I’m like you. I remember everything.”
Colton’s legs gave out, and he sank to the floor. Milo knelt beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I know how overwhelming it can be,” Milo said softly. “The weight of all those lives, all that knowledge. It’s enough to drive anyone mad.”
“How do you do it?” Colton asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “How do you stay sane?”
Milo helped Colton to his feet and guided him to the couch. “It took me centuries to figure it out, but I’ve learned to control the memories. To shut them out when I need to. And I can teach you.”
Colton’s heart raced with a mixture of hope and suspicion. “Why should I trust you? How do I know this isn’t some kind of trick?”
Milo’s eyes twinkled. “Fair question. Do you remember Constantinople, 1453? The siege? You were a young Greek soldier named Alexios, and I was a Venetian merchant called Marco. We met on the walls, fighting side by side as the Ottoman forces breached the city.”
The memory hit Colton like a tidal wave – the clash of steel, the acrid smell of smoke, the terror and exhilaration of that final battle. He remembered Marco, remembered fighting alongside him until a Turkish arrow found its mark.
“You held me as I died,” Colton whispered.
Milo nodded. “And I’ve been looking for you ever since. It’s taken me many lifetimes to find you again.”
Colton’s mind spun with questions. “But why? Why are we like this? Are there others like us?”
“I don’t have all the answers,” Milo admitted. “But I do know we’re not alone. There’s a handful of us scattered across the world, all grappling with the same curse – or gift, depending on how you look at it.”
Over the next few hours, Milo explained the techniques he’d developed to manage the flood of memories. It involved a combination of meditation, visualization, and what he called “mental filing” – organizing the vast expanse of experiences into manageable chunks.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the apartment, Colton felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in years.
“So, what now?” he asked.
Milo smiled. “Now, we have a choice. We can use our unique perspective to make a difference in the world, or we can simply live each life the best we can, knowing it’s just one chapter in an endless story.”
Colton nodded slowly, a plan forming in his mind. “I think I’d like to help others. Maybe set up a support group for people dealing with trauma or PTSD. After all, who better to understand the weight of painful memories?”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Milo said, beaming with pride. “And I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”
As they talked late into the night, Colton felt the crushing burden of his memories begin to lift. For the first time in countless lifetimes, he looked forward to the future – and all the possibilities it held.
The next morning, Colton woke up feeling refreshed and clear-headed. He made his way to the kitchen, where Milo was already brewing coffee.
“Ready for your first lesson?” Milo asked, handing Colton a steaming mug.
Colton took a sip and nodded. “Let’s do this.”
They spent the day practicing Milo’s techniques, and by evening, Colton could feel a difference. The memories were still there, but they no longer threatened to overwhelm him at every turn.
As they sat on the balcony, watching the sunset paint the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks, Colton turned to Milo.
“You know,” he said with a grin, “I just realized something. In all these lives, I’ve never had a proper date with a guy I actually liked.”
Milo raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Colton nodded. “What do you say we make some new memories? Dinner tomorrow night?”
Milo’s face lit up. “I’d like that very much.”
As they clinked their coffee mugs together, Colton felt a surge of excitement. For the first time in ages, he was looking forward to creating new memories instead of being crushed by the old ones. And with Milo by his side, he knew he could face whatever this life – or the next – might bring.
The End