Tim woke with a sudden jolt. For a moment he didn't know where he was. The room around him was gray with early morning light, the kind that slipped weakly through storm clouds and made everything look dull and distant. The television was still off. The candle on the coffee table had melted down into a hardened puddle of wax.

Tim was lying awkwardly on the couch, one arm hanging over the side. His neck ached. Outside, rain continued to fall steadily against the windows.

The storm hadn't gone away. He blinked slowly, trying to collect himself. His mind felt foggy, like he had slept too hard or too little at the same time.

Then he remembered the board. Tim sat upright immediately.

The Ouija board still sat on the coffee table exactly where he had left it the night before. The planchette rested quietly in the center, not moving.

Pumpkin was curled on the opposite end of the couch, watching him with half-open eyes. For a long moment Tim simply stared at the board.

Had that really happened?

The memory felt strange now in the daylight. Less frightening, almost surreal. It could have been a dream, maybe. His mind playing tricks on him after watching too many horror movies during a thunderstorm. He stood slowly and walked to the window.

The sky outside was dark and swollen with clouds. Rain poured down the glass in long streaks while wind rattled the building occasionally. The storm looked like it might stay for most of the day. Tim rubbed his face and yawned. Part of him felt embarrassed about the whole thing. Talking to a board in the dark like some kid trying to summon ghosts.

He glanced back toward the coffee table. But another part of him felt something else, disappointment. He frowned at the thought.

Last night the board had promised something. A visit. Something strange and mysterious had seemed just within reach and nothing had happened.

The apartment had stayed quiet and empty, just like always.

Tim walked back over to the table and looked down at the board again. Pumpkin lifted his head.

"You're giving me that look again,"

Tim said to the cat. Pumpkin blinked slowly but didn't move. Tim sat down in front of the coffee table.

"Alright," he muttered.

He placed two fingers lightly on the planchette. The wood felt cool under his fingertips. For a moment nothing happened. Outside, thunder rumbled softly through the sky again. Tim cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Hello?" he said. The board remained still. He waited a few seconds.

"Serenity?" he tried again. Still nothing. Tim leaned back slightly with a small sigh.

"Guess it was just-"

The planchette moved. His breath caught. The wooden piece slid slowly across the board.

H..E..L..L..O..

T

im stared. "Okay..." he whispered. The planchette remained beneath his fingers, perfectly still again. "You're back?" Tim asked. The piece shifted immediately. Y..E..S.. Tim felt a strange excitement bubbling in his chest. "That's... good," he said quietly.

Pumpkin let out a small unhappy sound from the couch. Tim ignored him.

"Where did you go last night?" Tim asked. The planchette moved again.

W..A..I..T..I..N..G..

Tim frowned. "Waiting for what?" The piece slid again.

Y..O..U..

A faint chill passed through him. Tim swallowed. "You said you were going to visit." For a moment the board was still. Then it moved again.

S..O..O..N..

Tim felt that same strange warmth in his chest again. He leaned closer. "When?" he asked. The planchette glided slowly beneath his fingers.

T..O..N..I..G..H..T..

Tim blinked. "Tonight? The piece shifted again.

Y..E..S..

Lightning flashed outside, briefly lighting the apartment in pale gray. Pumpkin stood up on the couch, his fur slightly puffed as he watched the board. Tim's heart was beating faster now. "How?" he asked quietly. The planchette moved again.

D..R..E..A..M..

Tim frowned. "In a dream?" The planchette slid again.

N..O..

Then again.

R..E..A..L..

Tim felt a shiver crawl down his spine. "Real?" he repeated. The piece moved again slowly,

B..E..A..U..T..I..F..U..L..

Tim's face flushed slightly. The board continued.

F..O..R.. Y..O..U..

Tim laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well... that sounds nice," he said. The storm outside rumbled again. Rain beat harder against the windows. Tim realized he was smiling. He hadn't smiled much lately. "When will you come?" he asked. The planchette slid again.

W..H..E..N.. Y..O..U.. S..L..E..E..P..

Tim felt another chill run down his arms. "Tonight?" he asked again.

Y..E..S..

The piece paused. Then it moved one last time.

W..A..I..T.. F..O..R.. M..E..

The planchette slowly drifted back toward the center of the board, and stopped.

Tim sat there for a long moment, staring at it. Outside the storm continued roaring through the city. Pumpkin watched the board with wide eyes.

Tim finally leaned back on the couch. His heart was still beating faster than normal. "Alright," he murmured quietly. "Tonight."

For the first time in a long while, Tim actually felt excited about the coming night. He had no idea that somewhere far beyond the world he understood, something had just opened its eyes and it was very hungry.

Night returned slowly. The storm never fully left the city that day. The sky stayed heavy and gray, the rain falling in long steady sheets that drummed against the windows. Tim spent most of the afternoon doing very little. He attempted to play a game for a while, but his focus kept drifting. His eyes kept moving back to the coffee table.

The Ouija board remained there, silent. Pumpkin avoided it completely, choosing instead to sleep on the far end of the couch or near the kitchen where he could watch the room from a safe distance. Tim noticed, but he tried not to think too much about it.

By evening the apartment had grown dim again. The clouds outside blocked most of the remaining daylight, turning the rooms into deep shadows long before night officially arrived. Tim ordered dinner but barely touched it. His mind kept returning to the board's message. When you sleep.

He had laughed at the idea earlier, telling himself it was just part of the game. Something his own imagination had probably created. Still... the anticipation lingered. By midnight the storm had softened to a gentle rain. The apartment was quiet except for the occasional distant roll of thunder.

Tim stretched on the couch and rubbed his eyes.

"Alright," he murmured to Pumpkin. "Let's see if your ghost friend shows up." Pumpkin responded by jumping off the couch and disappearing into the bedroom. Tim chuckled softly. "Traitor."

He turned off the television and stood. The apartment fell into near darkness again, lit only by the faint glow of streetlights bleeding through the rain-streaked windows. Tim walked into the bedroom and changed into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants. Pumpkin sat on the bed watching him carefully, his yellow eyes reflecting the dim light. "Relax," Tim said, climbing under the blankets. "Nothing's going to happen."

The cat remained alert. Tim turned onto his side and closed his eyes. For a while he simply listened to the rain outside. Sleep came slowly.

Eventually his thoughts drifted away and the room faded into darkness.