Wake Me If You're Out There

By Grimm Kadence

Wake Me If You're Out There is a collection of stories that came to me in dreams. It consists of three horror stories and one sci-fi story. It explores a psychic's journey through purgatory (Déjà Visité), a serial killer's paranormal transformation into a more terrifying monster (Oliver/The Porcelain Man), and a young woman's battle with alien beings (Dark Phases).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grimm Kadence
• Release date: Jan 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005109721

Grimm Kadence

I am Grimm Kadence, an author of fantasy, mystery, horror, sci-fi, paranormal adventure ebooks. I’ve been writing stories since I was a kid. Most of my stories, if not all, have strong elements of the supernatural. I’m not a long winded writer, but I’ve been told repeatedly by many readers that I’m great at grand vivid descriptions and deft humor. To sign up for my mailing list, visit my website.

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Wake Me If You’re Out There

Four Short Stories

Written by

Grimm Kadence

Copyright © 2021 Grimm Kadence

All rights reserved.

V1.6

Readers,

I ask only one thing of you: if you dislike this book and want to write a review, please let myself and other potential readers know, somewhere within that review, why this book wasn’t for you. Was it the dark tone of the stories, the overall story/plot, the writing itself, the characters, the gore and adult language or something else? I always appreciate details and specifics, afterall, if I’m unsure of the problem, I can’t fix it in the next book.

To those of you who’ve down-rated my books and told me exactly why, thank you; you’ve taught me to be a better author.

To those of you who’ve given four- and five-star reviews on my books, thank you so much! Your reviews are the ones that make all the hard work and late nights totally worth it. If I could, I’d take you all out for your favorite dinner.

—Grimm Kadence

Don’t be afraid of the dark; it’s a place where you can hide.

—Grimm Kadence

Contents

Déjà Visité

Oliver

The Porcelain Man

Dark Phases

Author Notes

Déjà Visité

Gloria King, a curvy middle-aged woman in a dark blue cotton sundress, gave her son a smile from behind the wheel as she looked over to find him staring out the window. Elijah sat in the passenger seat of his mother’s four-door sedan cruising on the open highway. She followed his gaze as he focused on a few hawks soaring over the town’s cemetery while the radio played a soft song in the background. The birds’ wings seemed to float weightless on the breeze, as if it took no effort to see the town from such great heights.

She readjusted the seat belt cutting between her breasts. She was proud of Elijah and would tell everyone at her weekly book club how much he had grown and that, even though he was only eight, he was already shooting baskets on their ten-foot-tall hoop. Most mothers think their children are special, but, in Gloria’s case, it was true.

Elijah’s first vision occurred when he was five. He came in from playing in the backyard and told his mother that Daddy wouldn’t be coming home from work, that he had gotten himself killed in the oil fields. A few minutes later, the phone had rung.

And that’s when Gloria knew to take special note of Elijah’s words.

Elijah kicked the backs of his bare feet against the bottom of the passenger seat.

Sweetie, put on your shoes. We’re almost home, Gloria said.

He lifted the chest strap of the seat belt over his head and placed it behind his shoulders, which allowed him to lean far forward to retrieve his sneakers.

There’ll be a train, he said, slipping one of his white Chucks over his left foot.

There’s always a train.

Elijah laughed and, once finished with his shoes, replaced the seat belt over his chest.

The sedan cruised over a hill at fifty-five miles per hour; a freight train up ahead coughed up black smoke and chugged along at a brisk pace. Elijah focused on the crossing sign that denied them access to their route home. Two red lights took turns flashing, and a white, red and black automatic gate blocked their path. The sedan came to a stop in front of it. Elijah mouthed the words, Arpac Pirates, as he read the sloppy tag on one of the long steel cars as it sailed by.

Can you see how long it is?

About twenty cars to go, he said.

The last remaining rays from the sun, cut in half by the horizon, stretched across the darkening sky, yet it was destined to be another humid July night. Gloria turned on the air conditioner and then adjusted the knob to the lowest setting. The cool air flowed from the vents and met her son’s outstretched hands as his fingers danced in the new breeze. The last railcar jetted by, exposing a wide river flowing through rich green trees, tall grass and wild shrubs. The train gate lifted and allowed them access to the bridge. Another mile down the road and they were home.

• • •

Elijah stared into the bathroom mirror and examined his eyes. He pulled his toothbrush from his white teeth and spit in the sink, then rinsed. The air was still heavy, filled with moisture, and his shaggy hair, damp. All around the mirror’s edge was a fog so dense it only revealed hazy colors. The showerhead dripped into the tub in bursts of threes.

You ready for bed? asked his mom, passing by.

Yes, I’m ready.

The house’s air-conditioning had done well throughout the day to cool the wood floors, and, as Elijah exited the bathroom, that sharp cold on the bottom of his bare feet made him scurry through the hallway. He loved the little things so much about the old farmhouse: the way the pipes creaked when turning on the water, the flicker in the lights during storms and the way the whole place seemed to vibrate when a big truck rumbled by.

He entered his room, welcomed by posters of fantasy characters, a small collection of dangling dream catchers, illuminated lampshades and a made-up wooden bed. Sinking into the bed’s soft mattress, Elijah let out a sigh as the cold sheets sent a shock wave up his arms and legs.

All right, his mom said, taking a seat on the edge of his mattress. What prayer would you like to say tonight?

I want to say The Last Prayer. Elijah folded his hands over his chest.

I haven’t heard that one in a while. I was kind of hoping you’d forgotten about it because it’s a little weird.

Elijah smiled. I like it. He waited until his mom clasped her hands in her lap and closed her eyes; then he too closed his eyes and recited the prayer.

God, I’m only one of billions here, but, deep inside, I’m filled with fear. / If you can grant me wings to fly, I’ll paint the stars in Heaven’s sky. / While devils dance up in the trees, breathing fire in the breeze, / wash them out with heavy rain to save the Earth from all its pain.

Good night, Eli. I’ll see you tomorrow, his mom said and kissed his forehead.

Night, Mom.

She clicked off a switch that darkened his lamps, and she closed his door.

The sudden dark had him viewing colors shifting in a rhythmic pattern. The stillness of a quiet night, the hint of the moon’s glow through his windows—becoming more prominent by the minute—and the hum of his ceiling fan delicately forced the boy’s eyes closed. It didn’t take long before Elijah drifted off.

• • •

Elijah stepped forward as his arm followed through and his fingers released a rock, sending it sailing through an attic window of an old farmhouse. The glass shattered, giving him a delightfully accomplished feeling. Frugal owners who viewed paint, brick and shingles as unneeded luxuries must have built the place: a two-story shack in the middle of a lot filled with numerous old garages and a large barn. A chicken coop and a junk pile filled with old machine parts sat to the back of the house, where Elijah stood with two young girls. The kids were unaware that the forest of pines, firs and cottonwoods surrounding the entire property went on for miles and miles.

Where did that come from? asked one of the girls, the older of the two, wearing a red dress and a bright yellow flower in her hair.

Her name was Lilly. Elijah was quite confident that one day, he would marry her. Her flowing brown hair, pale complexion, kind eyes and pretty smile made her the most popular girl in their third-grade class. Elijah looked forward to the daily bus rides to and from school, where he always sat next to her at the very back, almost hidden from all the other students.

Where did what come from? Elijah saw her focus on his blue jeans.