Don't Close Your Eyes!

by R. L. Stine

  Footsteps!

  My heart thudding, I turned to Nicky and Tara. “We … we're not alone in here,” I whispered.

  24

  PERCHED ON THE ROCK ledge, I hugged myself and listened. The footsteps were soft, muffled, as if someone was trying not to be heard.

  “Nicky? Tara? Do you hear it?” I whispered. “What should we do?”

  Silence.

  The soft thuds came closer. Someone—or something—was slowly, carefully navigating the path down from the cavern entrance.

  “Nicky? Tara?”

  No reply.

  They had disappeared.

  How could they do that? How could they leave me here in this freezing, dark cave—all alone with someone approaching … someone very near now … very near?

  “Nicky?Tara?”

  Something bumped my ankle.

  I cried out.

  It pulled back fast.

  I heard the scrape of several paws all around me.

  Something swiped at my leg.

  I started to jump up from the ledge. Before I could move, two eyes stared into mine.

  And slowly, my eyes focused on the creature at my feet.

  A fat raccoon.

  It pawed my leg again.

  “Go away,” I said, panic choking my voice. “Beat it.”

  It didn't move.

  I turned and saw another raccoon staring up at me. And another beside it, pawing at the side of my rock ledge.

  Five or six raccoons came into view. They had formed a loose circle around me. One raised its front paws as if begging.

  What did they want? Did they expect me to feed them?

  They're rabid! I suddenly thought. They're planning to attack!

  Another raccoon raised its front paws and stared at me. Beside him, a fat one scraped the rock ledge with its claws.

  Their circle grew tighter.

  I took a deep breath. “Go away!” I shouted. “I'm not kidding! Go away!”

  My voice boomed through the cavern. It echoed and bounced off the cavern walls until the words were lost in a jumble of noise.

  I jumped to my feet. “Scat! Scat!”

  To my surprise, they turned and took off. Their paws slapped the mud as the entire pack ran up the path toward the entrance.

  Breathing hard, I slumped back onto the rock ledge.

  “Nicky? Tara?”

  No. They still weren't back.

  I shut my eyes and tried to force my heartbeats back to normal. I shivered. I'd never been so cold. Or alone. Or frightened.

  Closing my eyes was a bad idea. I suddenly felt sleepy again.

  I felt Inkweed slither around behind my forehead.

  He was supposed to be dying. Taking him to this dark cavern was supposed to destroy him.

  “It's sure taking a long time,” I said out loud.

  I yawned. “A very long time.”

  I felt the evil ghost push at the backs of my eyeballs.

  Something is terribly wrong, I realized. It isn't working.

  Unless I just have to wait longer … ?

  But I couldn't wait here in this freezing cave much longer. I had to get out and see the sky again. See some light. In this deep blackness, I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or not.

  The darkest place on the darkest night.

  Well, here I am. And it's not working.

  I yawned again. I could feel myself drifting, drifting into the darkness. I could feel it pulling me, deeper and deeper … into a deep sleep….

  And as I started to sleep, I felt my mouth open. And a laugh burst out—a hoarse, dry, terrifying laugh that made the cave walls roar.

  Haa haaaaaaaaaaah!

  Inkweed's laugh!

  Pouring from my open mouth. An evil, inhuman laugh. A laugh of victory.

  Because Inkweed knew I couldn't last much longer. He knew I couldn't stay awake.

  The darkness was pulling me … pulling me down into a deep sleep.

  I couldn't fight it any longer. I stretched out on the flat rock ledge.

  “Sorry, guys,” I whispered to Nicky and Tara, just in case they could hear me. “I have to sleep. I'm sorry. I let you down. I'm sorry….”

  I curled up on the ledge, hugging myself for warmth.

  But before I could close my eyes, a flash of bright light made me cry out. I struggled to a sitting position, blinking toward the light. And stared at two bright round eyes. Glowing yellow eyes floating rapidly toward me.

  “Who—who are you?” I tried to scream, but my voice came out in a hoarse rasp.

  “Who are you?” I tried again.

  No answer.

  The glowing yellow eyes shimmered like car headlights. They stared intensely at me as they floated closer. So bright, I covered my eyes with one hand.

  “Who are you?” I found my voice and screamed now in my fright.

  “What do you want? Who are you?”

  25

  I HEARD THE SCRAPE of footsteps. A murmured voice.

  The eyes bobbed in the blackness, floating down from the cavern opening.

  “Hello?” I called. “Please—answer me!”

  I fought off my fear and jumped to my feet. I tensed my muscles, ready to run.

  What kind of creature comes loping down into a cavern with glowing yellow eyes?

  It had to be some kind of monster!

  Had Inkweed summoned a friend?

  Half covering my eyes from the blinding glare, I watched the creature move down the path toward me.

  And then I heard whispered voices, talking rapidly. The two eyes moved apart. The lights raised, beamed up to the cavern ceiling for a moment, then soared back down.

  And I saw two figures standing in front of me. Two people holding flashlights.

  At first, I could see only their outlines behind the glowing circles of light. Arms and legs. And then the lights moved again.

  And I cried out. “Mom! Dad! How did you find me?”

  26

  THEY LOWERED THEIR FLASHLIGHTS “Max?” Mom called. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Her voice echoed off the cavern walls.

  “I—I—It's hard to explain,” I stammered.

  And then I ran to her, threw my arms around her, and hugged her.

  “You're in a lot of trouble,” Dad said.

  I backed away from Mom. “You don't know the half of it,” I said. “You don't know what horrible trouble I'm in.”

  “I need my sleep,” Dad growled. “I like my sleep. I don't want to be crawling around in freezing cold, dark caves in the middle of the night.”

  I swallowed. “I know,” I murmured. I didn't know what else to say. I was so happy to see them. But I could see Dad getting angrier and angrier, about to explode.

  I turned to my mom, tiny and thin and birdlike. In the dim circle of light from her flashlight, I could see that she was trembling.

  “Did you follow me here?” I asked her. “How did you know I was down here?”

  A strange smile spread over Mom's face. “Do you think I couldn't find my own son?”

  “You're in trouble, Max,” Dad said, shaking his head. “You're in the biggest trouble of your life.”

  “Please—take me home,” I said in a trembling voice. “Please—”

  “Why don't you lie down on that rock?” Mom said, pointing with her light. “Lie down and go to sleep, Max.”

  “Huh?” I stared at her.

  “It's the best thing,” Dad said. “Go ahead, Max. Go to sleep. You need to sleep.”

  “But, I can't—” I started. “You don't understand. I—I—”

  Mom lowered her voice to a whisper. “Go to sleep, Max. Let Inkweed pour out.”

  “Listen to your mother,” Dad said. “Let Inkweed out, Max.”

  “I don't understand!” I cried. “How do you know about Inkweed?”

  “We're your parents,” Mom said. “We know everything about you.”

  “Go to sleep,” Dad said again. “You're very sleepy
, Max. Let Inkweed out. Let Inkweed live!”

  My mouth dropped open, and a hoarse cry of shock escaped my throat.

  They can't be my parents! I thought.

  They can't know about Inkweed! They can't want Inkweed out!

  I stared at them, trembling in horror, and watched them raise their flashlights under their chins. The light spilled over their faces with an eerie glow.

  “Let Inkweed out. Let Inkweed out,” they both chanted.

  “Mom! Dad! Why are you doing this?” I cried.

  They didn't answer. They opened their mouths wide.

  I heard a gurgling. Then a horrifying retching sound from deep in their throats.

  And then gushers of black ink spewed from their mouths.

  I raised my hands to cover my face as it poured over me, hot and putrid. The twin streams of ink washed over my head, down my shoulders. I heard it splash at my feet.

  My parents made ugly retching sounds, as if they were vomiting the hot, smelly ink from deep inside them. I couldn't move away from it. I struggled to breathe.

  The black ink shot over me, splashing hard, pounding my head, dropping me to my knees.

  I tried to breathe—and sucked ink into my nose, down my throat. Burning ink. It tasted sour, like spoiled milk.

  I started to gag and choke.

  I flailed my arms. I tried to dive away from it.

  But the streams were too powerful. They covered me.

  Covered me …

  Covered me in a thick, sticky blanket of darkness.

  I heard the retching sounds. The splash of ink on the cavern floor.

  Then silence.

  And a darkness that swallowed me whole …

  27

  I OPENED MY EYES to loud shouts in my ear. Startled, I realized I was standing up.

  Nicky was shouting for me to wake up. He and Tara had me by the arms. They were walking me away, guiding me up the path.

  My feet slid in the mud. I blinked my eyes and gazed around in confusion.

  “Mom?”

  “Dad?”

  “No, it's us,” Tara said. “Snap out of it, Max.”

  “But my mom and dad—” I choked out. “They were here. They told me to go to sleep and—”

  “You must have been dreaming,” Tara said. “Nicky and I popped back just in time.”

  I gazed up toward the cavern entrance. No bright lights. No Mom and Dad.

  The dream had been so real, so terrifying.

  “Wh-what happened?” I stammered. “Did Inkweed—?”

  “We came back just in time,” Nicky said. “We dragged you to your feet before Inkweed could get out.”

  “Sorry we left you here,” Nicky said. “Sometimes we disappear. We can't control it.”

  “Are you okay?” Tara asked, helping me over a jagged rock.

  I stopped.

  “No,” I said. “How could I be okay? We're in terrible trouble. Coming here didn't work. It didn't work at all.”

  Up ahead, I saw the gray of the sky. I could feel the damp, cold air fall away as we approached the entrance. “Inkweed is still inside me. I can feel him.”

  “Hang on, Max,” Tara said as we stepped out through the cavern entrance. “Hang on.”

  Trees shivered all around in a strong breeze. Cool, dry air. I took several deep breaths. It smelled so good and clean.

  “We'll figure this out. I know we will,” Tara said.

  Her voice trembled. I could hear how frightened she was now.

  We had tried and failed. And we all knew I couldn't stay awake much longer.

  As we walked, I tried to figure out how many hours I'd been awake. But my brain was too fuzzy to do the math.

  Close to seventy hours. That was the best I could figure.

  I kept walking with them. But I couldn't really feel my legs. It was as if they were moving on their own.

  The trees spun around me. The ground tilted one way, then the other.

  How long did we walk?

  I don't know. It was a long walk home.

  We were on a block with little houses hidden behind hedges and thick clumps of trees. Suddenly, Nicky and Tara stopped. Their grip tightened on my arms. They stared at the steeply sloping hill across the street.

  “What's wrong?” I whispered.

  “Look,” Nicky said. “The library.”

  I squinted hard, trying to force my eyes to focus. “Library?”

  “Mr. Park's library,” Tara said. “Where we got the old book.”

  “The lights are on,” Nicky said. “Do you think Mr. Park is awake?”

  “If he isn't, we'll wake him up,” Tara said. She pulled hard, dragging me up the sloping front yard. “He has to help us. Max, you'll tell him what we did tonight. The darkest place on the darkest night. You'll tell him it didn't work.”

  We stepped up to the little house. The lights were on in the front room.

  Nicky pushed the doorbell. “He'll know what to do,” he said. “He'll help us. I know he will.”

  28

  NICKY PUSHED THE BELL again. I saw a shadow move in the front window.

  The front door opened a crack. Someone peeked out.

  “Hi, it's me,” I said.

  A chain slid off the door. The door opened wider, and I saw the storyteller's daughter, Sumner Park, squinting out at me. She wore a long purple bathrobe. Her hair was tied back.

  “You're the boy who was here the other day?” she said.

  I nodded. “Max Doyle. I need—”

  “Max, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?” she asked. Of course, she couldn't see Nicky and Tara.

  She stepped aside so I could come in. “It's nearly three in the morning. Do your parents know where you are?”

  “Don't waste time answering her questions, Max,” Tara said. “Tell her to wake up her dad.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I'll do it.”

  “Do what?” Ms. Park asked.

  “I need to see your dad,” I said. “It's very important.”

  She studied me. “Look at your shoes. You're covered with mud. And you look so tired, Max. Something's wrong, isn't it. Let me call your parents.”

  She reached for the phone on her desk.

  Tara grabbed it away.

  Ms. Park gasped. “That phone! It's floating in midair!”

  “I … uh … heard the phone bills are going up!” I said. “Guess it's true.”

  I grabbed the phone from Tara. “I don't want you to call my parents,” I said to the librarian. “I just need to see your father.”

  “I'm sorry,” Ms. Park said. “He's asleep. I should be asleep too. But I was busy arranging books, and I lost track of the time.”

  “We'll wake him,” Tara said. She and Nicky went running to the stairs.

  “No! You can't!” I shouted to them.

  “Can't what? Max, you're not making any sense,” Ms. Park said. “I really think we should call—”

  “It—it's an emergency!” I stammered.

  I ran after Nicky and Tara and followed them up the stairs.

  “Hey! Come back!” Ms. Park shouted. “You can't go up there! Come back here! Tell me what this is about! Come back here!”

  I was halfway up the stairs. She came chasing after me, shouting for me to stop.

  I reached the landing and followed Nicky and Tara down the hall. I was gasping for air by the time we stopped at Mr. Park's bedroom. The door was shut. I grabbed the knob and turned it.

  “Stop right there,” Ms. Park said sharply. “You can't go in, Max. My dad locks his door at night. No way are you going in.”

  I sighed. “The door is locked?”

  She nodded. “And he's a very sound sleeper.”

  With a sad sigh, I turned to Nicky and Tara. “Now what are we going to do?”

  29

  “WHO ARE YOU TALKING to?” Ms. Park asked.

  I stared at the locked bedroom door.

  Tara tapped me on the shoulder. “Max, did you forget
Nicky and I are ghosts?”

  Before I could answer, the two of them floated right through the door, into Mr. Park's bedroom.

  “Let's go downstairs, Max,” Ms. Park said sternly. “I think you're in some kind of trouble. Come downstairs, and we can call your parents.”

  “I am in trouble,” I told her. “But I think your dad can help me.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” she said. “I can't wake him up.”

  But we heard the lock snap on the other side of the door. And Mr. Park's bedroom door swung open.

  “Come in, Max. Hurry,” Tara said, pulling me through the doorway.

  We ran to Mr. Park's bed. He was asleep on his back, the covers pulled up to his chin.

  “How did you do that? How did you unlock the door?” Sumner Park came running into the room after us. “You can't wake him,” she said. “He sleeps so soundly.”

  “We'll wake him,” Tara said. “Nicky. Hurry. Start tickling.”

  They pulled down the blankets, tugged up his red pajama shirt, and started tickling his ribs.

  It only took a few seconds. Mr. Park started wiggling and squirming. And then he woke up, laughing.

  “Dad!” Ms. Park cried in surprise. “What's so funny?”

  He scratched at the curly white hair on top of his head. “Must have been having a funny dream.” Then he saw me. “You? What are you doing here?”

  “It's an emergency,” I said. “I'm sorry to wake you. Really. But I really need your help.”

  Blinking himself awake, he pulled himself up. “My help?” He looked over my shoulder at his daughter. “Sumner, what is the problem here? How did he get in here? The door was locked.”

  Ms. Park shrugged. “I don't know, Dad. He was determined to see you.”

  He squinted at me with his bright blue eyes. “Max, right?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I—”

  “What is the problem, Max?”

  “It's about Inkweed,” I said. “I didn't tell you the whole truth the other day. You see, Inkweed is inside me.”

  He made a gulping sound. He scratched his head again.

  “I did what you said,” I told him, speaking breathlessly. “I went to a dark cavern. Tonight. A night when there is no moon.”

  He kept squinting at me. He looked as if he didn't understand what I was telling him.