The Nine O'Clock Rapist

8:59.

Through the darkness of the bedroom, I stared at the digital readout with a mounting panic. One minute left before 9 pm. One minute left in which to fall asleep. One minute left before The Nine O'Clock Rapist came and tore my world apart.

The Nine O'Clock Rapist. My father had told me all about him — a supernatural monster who roamed the night searching for naughty little boys who did not to go to sleep before 9 pm. If you were still awake at that time, he would come and get you. No pity. No remorse.Legend had it that the Nine O'Clock Rapist was once a real man — an evil man — who had been killed in a dream. He was, from that night on, doomed to stalk the twilight world that exists between sleep and wakefulness, seeking victims.

Throughout my young life, I had been good. I had always, without fail, been fast asleep when that fateful hour of 9 pm had arrived. But today, I'd had an exciting evening, playing in the park with my little Yorkshire terrier, Suzy. My mind was still alive with the joys of the day. And I couldn't sleep. And now…

9:00.

I was rigid with fear now, my eyes wide, bottom lip trembling. The hour was upon me. In just a few seconds, The Nine O'Clock Rapist would be here to punish me. In just a few seconds. In… just… a… few…

Nothing happened.

I believe I actually giggled. Could it be that the beast I had feared all my life did not even exist? I began to feel a little silly. I was age 7 — certainly old enough not to be taken in by tall tales told by my father to make sure I was asleep at a reasonable hour.Then, I heard the door open.

Suddenly, the terror rushed back. I screwed shut my eyes and willed myself to lie perfectly still, in the hope that the thing entering my room would go away.

I've no idea how long I lay there in dread. Seconds? Minutes? Maybe even hours. All I know is that, when I opened my eyes again to take a peek, he was standing there by the side of my bed. The Nine O'Clock Rapist.

He was a horrible sight — pallid of skin and naked except for a red satin cloak thrown across his shoulders, with a penis that was hard and purple. His facial features — no doubt scarred and awful — were hidden by some kind of hideous tribal mask that he wore."So, you are awake," said his deep voice, muffled by the mask. "Long have I waited for this moment…"

With that, he clambered onto the bed, pinned me down and buggered me.

After he had finished, The Nine O'Clock Rapist sat on the edge of my bed, staring into space. I just lay there. I felt nothing but a sense of total mortification and was deadened by the certain knowledge that my life would never be the same again.

Silently, I willed him to leave. But he didn't. He kept sitting there, saying nothing and making no sound as the minutes ticked by. Eventually — I don't know how much time had elapsed — he turned, reached out a hand and stroked my hair, even as I recoiled under his touch.

"I enjoyed that, little one," murmured The Nine O'Clock Rapist. "I think I'll have another go on you."

Something inside me snapped. I was much smaller and weaker than this beast, and I had no supernatural powers like him, but I knew in that instant that I would rather die than be subjected to a further buggeration. As he moved to straddle me again, I lashed out. I don't know what I hoped to achieve; it was unlikely that I'd be able to hurt him.

But I did achieve something. With my wild, flailing hand, I caught the mask and knocked it aside, exposing The Nine O'Clock Rapist's true face.

"Dad!"

My father quickly adjusted the mask to hide his features once more, but the damage had been done. I knew it was him. And, as he ran from the room, I stared into the darkness and knew that I had been right — life would never be the same...