Do not turn off the light

 "Dad, don't turn off the light," the boy asked when his father wished him good night and headed for the door.

My father shook his head disapprovingly.

– At your age, it's already a shame to be afraid of the dark.

"It's not the dark I'm afraid of,– the boy whispered, pulling the blanket higher.

But Dad had already pressed the switch, and the room was plunged into darkness.

"Don't be afraid, son. My mom and I are right here, if anything," my father said, leaving the room. – Everything will be fine.

"Yes, but you can't save me from her," the boy wanted to scream, but instead he nodded weakly and said:

–Okay, Dad. Good night.

As soon as the door to his room closed, the boy dived under the covers with his head. The fear, however, has not gone away. He could have called his mom, of course, and she would have listened to his request, but Dad might have gotten angry.

–I wonder what you would do now," the boy thought of his father, and pulled the blanket closer under him.

He didn't know how long he had been lying there, afraid to move and open his eyes. His alert ears picked up the tiniest rustle. The flashlight, his only means of escape, remained on the table.

"How could I get caught so stupidly?" – the boy thought excitedly to himself. "If only we could get to the table." How many steps? Four? Five?

The clock in the hallway struck midnight.

"So it's been two hours," the boy whispered to himself. "God, I'm so scared!" Can you still try to get to the table?! You just need to…

There was a sound from the door, a creak, faint, barely discernible. The boy froze and shrank.

"Let it just be my imagination, please, let it just be my imagination," the boy pleaded in an undertone.

The creaking was repeated a little closer. Then even closer. Someone was slowly approaching him.

"It's too late… This is... this is the end..." the boy whispered almost crying.

The footsteps stopped by the bed. Every cell in his body, every nerve was tense to the point of pain.

Suddenly, a soft, melodious female laugh rang out directly above him.

"Are you without your trinket today?" – A woman's voice said softly. – It's sad. We had a lot of fun last time!

The boy was holding his ears tightly with his palms under the blanket.

– It won't work! – the voice intoned again and laughed.

The voice became a little louder. It seemed to be coming from inside my head. And the scariest thing was that the sound calmed him down.

"You don't want to talk again?" "What is it?" the voice asked. "Well, I don't insist. Eventually, someday you'll want to answer. Maybe even sooner than you think.

There was such confidence in the voice that the boy almost believed it himself.

– You can't give in! Resist! Resist!  The boy kept telling himself.

"It's no use, my good man. Fighting with yourself is stupid," the voice replied casually."How old are you?"

"Don't think! Don't think about anything!" the boy was already repeating like a prayer.

His own thoughts began to drift away and only that voice filled his whole being.

"Nine years?" – the voice replied thoughtfully. – Such an adult! I guess your mom doesn't kiss you at bedtime anymore.

The boy nodded faster than he realized. The voice laughed softly again.

– I understand. You probably want to be kissed?

He couldn't lie. The voice wouldn't let him think. The boy could only obey the enchanting sound. He made a last desperate attempt to escape.

"Get out!"  The boy shouted.

"It's a pity, my dear,– the voice replied softly with a restless sadness. – Don't resist what you crave! Are you afraid? People are always afraid of the unknown, but when they find out…

The boy shuddered. He felt the edge of his bed bend under the weight of someone's body.

"Don't be afraid, my good one," the voice said softly, and did not let the fear break through.

The boy didn't even move when a hand was placed on his shoulder over the blanket. The grave chill that went through him from that touch was replaced by a pleasant coolness.

"Don't resist...– the voice whispered softly.

There was so much sensuality in the voice now that the boy wouldn't even think of doing it. He was filled with a new, previously unknown feeling of intimacy with someone. When his mother hugged him, he felt safe, but he had never felt such excitement.

–Do you want me to kiss you?" "What is it?" the voice asked.

- Yes.

The boy nodded so hard that the edge of the blanket slipped off his head. However, he didn't care about that at all now. The only thing that mattered was that voice coming out of the darkness every night, just like now. But never so close.

"That's right, my good one,– a voice sounded very close.

The boy felt a light breath on his neck.

–Open your eyes,– the voice said.

- No! – the boy's inner voice shouted. "It's a trap!" I know! I can't! Help!

"I command you!"  The voice literally burned him cold. – Open your eyes!

The boy squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to utter at least a sound. The spasm in his throat was gone, but the words struggled to come out.

- No! Go away! – The boy croaked, - Get out!

The voice hissed. There was no understanding or affection left in him. Only the icy cold. With growing horror, the boy felt the icy hands of the creature creeping up to his neck. He gathered his remaining strength and shouted with all his might:

– DAD!

His parents' anxious voices were heard in the next room, then quick footsteps and the door of his room opened, letting in bright light from the hallway lamps.

The boy's eyes narrowed. My father was standing in the doorway. There was worry and fear in his eyes.

"What happened?" "What is it?" he asked, looking around the room.

The boy also looked around. No one. He leaned back on the pillow with a feeling of incredible relief.

"Nothing, Dad, I just had a terrible dream," the boy replied.

His father came into the room and sat next to him on the bed.

"Is everything all right, son?" How are you doing?  He reached out and touched his son's hair. "My God, you're soaking wet!"

–It's... nothing, it's fine.

The boy felt completely exhausted after the experience and could barely move his tongue.

–Dad, really, I'm probably going to fall asleep right now," said the son.

– Of course you will, – the father got up with visible relief.

"Dad..." the boy said almost in a whisper, "just one request."…

"Whatever you say, son,– his father replied.

"Don't turn off the light," the boy said, already falling asleep.…