Welcome to micro Terrors, scary stories for kids where it's always the spooky season,
full of chills, thrills, and spine tingling spooks. Micro Terrors are
family friendly frights for those ages eight and up, and while our stories are
for younger years, we are still talking about things that go bump in the
night, and some children may not be able to handle what others can.
Parental consent is recommended now for tonights micro terror. Ginger's Gingerbread Disaster by Danny
Dreadful. It's December sixteenth, shouted Ginger from a distance. She burst out
of her room with her pen and notebook in hand, and darted for the
kitchen. And you know what that means. Ginger's mother, Debbie exclaimed,
it's Ginger was already sifting through the pantry before her mother could finish her sentence.
Tomorrow was the holiday fair, which means that gingerbread bake off competition.
Ginger cried, She was smiling ear to ear. This was a very special
year for Ginger. This was the year she could finally enter the competition without
an adult. This was the year she would bake all on her own.
It was a rite of passage for all the women in her family. She,
like all the others before her, took this very seriously. To Ginger,
this was more than a lighthearted competition. She longed to please her mother,
especially given the significance of this event being tied to her namesake. Before
you go reading the pantry, you'll need this. Debbie grabbed her cookbook and
pulled out NaN's gingerbread cookie recipe. She smiled warmly as she reminisced about the
holidays spent in the kitchen with Nan. It was a magical time. They'd
bake gingerbread men while listening to Christmas songs as the snow glistened through the tiny
window that sat just above the kitchen sink. It was always snowing whenever they
baked the gingerbread men, and that was the real magic. Debbie carefully handed
Ginger the recipe. You must be very careful with this recipe, Ginger,
her mother said sternly. These were not just any ordinary cookies. They were
award winning The recipe had been passed down from generation to generation, and it
was Ginger's turn to wow the judges this year. As she stood in the
pantry with her recipe in hand, she began making a checklist of all the
ingredients needed. She checked off each ingredient one by one until Ginger furrowed her
brow and frowned. What's wrong sweets, Debbie asked, already knowing what her
daughter would say. I have all the ingredients in the pantry except for one.
I don't know what the special ingredient is. She sighed, Oh,
don't you worry about that. Once you get to baking, I'll be sure
to share it with you. Thanks, Mom, you are the best.
Ginger gave her mother a big hug, then continued to pull all the goods
needed from the pantry. Now it was time to get baking. Ginger grabbed
a big mixing bowl and added in the sugar, cinnamon, allspice, ground
cloves, baking soda, eggs, brown sugar, unsalted butter, molasses,
and of course fresh ginger. She was just about finishing up when she called
out for her mother to bring the special ingredient. She was as giddy as
could be as she impatiently waited for her mother to enter the kitchen. Debbie
arrived holding a small brown leather satchel. It looked as old as time.
The leather was weathered and worn out, and it was tied shut by a
single piece of gold thread, which was barely hanging on. Ginger was not
expecting the special ingredient to be packaged in such a way, but she did
not question it. She was too eager to finish up her hopefully award winning
cookies. Now only add a dash of this, do not add any more?
Do you hear me, Ginger? It is very important that you abide
by this rule, no matter what. Debbie's tone was forbidding, and Ginger
took note of the sternness in her mother's voice. Ginger eagerly nodded her head
in agreement and impatiently rea for the satchel, almost tearing it from her mother's
hands. I'll be in my office if you need anything, honey, she
thanked her mother. Then shoot her out of the kitchen. As she added
in the final touch, Ginger shaped her fingers into a pinch like state and
dug into the satchel perfect. Just as she was about to mix all the
ingredients together, she heard a faint whisper. She shrugged it off and plugged
in her hand mixer, chalking it up to her overly active imagination. This
time, the whispers grew louder, and it sounded as though someone or something
was trying to get her attention. She could not pinpoint where the sound was
coming from until she saw it. The leather satchel was glowing an irridescent green
color, and the whispers were now audible. It sounded like someone was in
her ear. No, in her head. Add more of me if you
want to ring, the voice said, do it now before your mother comes
back. If you don't add more of my delicious spices, you will never
win. You will be a disgrace to your family. Is that what you
want? Ginger was in a state of shock. What in the world was
she witnessing right now? On the one hand, she didn't want to disobey
her mother, but on the other she couldn't bear the thought of being a
first girl in her family to lose the competition. The voice spoke again,
this time in a softer, more gentler tone. Go on, just a
few more pinches. That will do the track, I promise. Ginger,
knowing full well, she should have ignored the voice, went over to the
satchel, took three more pinches and mixed them into the batter. She did
not care what the repercussions would be She just needed to win. Good,
good child, you are sure to ring now, I promise. The voice
hissed, and with one last menacing laugh, the green glow dissipated and the
voice faded away. Ginger continued on. She mixed up the batter, rolled
out her dough, cut out gingerbread shapes, and put them in the oven.
Bake sale day, Ginger walked into the dimly lit gymnasium. It looked
like a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie. Santa's sleigh was front and
center, surrounded by his little helpers, and cut snowflakes were dangling from the
ceiling and walls as a snow machine blasted artificial snow. Christmas lights glimmered all
around. There was a manora and a ten foot Christmas tree, both shining
brightly. Various vendors sold hot cocoa, popcorn, and other goodies that Ginger
was sure to indulge in after the competition. This was certainly her favorite day
of the year. It would be even more so once she won the competition.
As she was taking in the sights, she saw it. The life
sized gingerbread man cut out holding a sign that Read Gingerbread competition. She grew
giddy and raced over cookies in tow to set up her booth. As the
judges made their rounds, savoring each cookie one bite at a time, they
finally made their way to Ginger's booth. Her palms were sweating and her heart
was raising as they each reached for a perfectly shaped and beautifully decorated gingerbread man.
Just as one of the judges was about to dig into her cookie,
a green, glowing mist emerged. It was the exact same mist that appeared
in Ginger's kitchen. Not long after the mist took over, a familiar,
eerie voice echoed through the gymnasium, speaking in an unknown tongue. Debbie stopped
dead in her tracks, with a look of pure terror up on her face.
She looked over at Ginger, whose facial expression was of equal terror.
Debby raced towards Ginger, but it was too late. The once nearly three
inch gingerbread men were now a staggering nine feet tall and terrorizing the patrons of
the bake sale. They began by knocking down the booths of Ginger's competitors.
Then they tore each decoration down one snowflake at a time. People screamed in
horror and tried to take cover as they watched the monstrous cookies come to life
and take over the fair. Then a voice whispered in Ginger's ear. See,
I told you you'd will if there's no competition, you will by default.
The once picturesque fare was now giving more horror vibes than Hallmark Debby shot.
Ginger al of disappointment as she watched the events unfold. Luckily, she
was prepared for the worst. She pulled out a worn out leather satchel which
contained a purple powder. She started sprinkling the powder around herself, creating a
circle while reciting an incantation. But just as she shouted the last word into
the air, everything froze and began to rewind. Ginger was once again standing
in front of the judges, but this time there was no mist no giant
gingerbread men, and the look of terror on the judges faces was replaced with
cheerful smiles. Ginger ultimately claimed the title of best gingerbread cookie baker, along
with a lesson that would forever stay with her. She learned to never disobey
her mother's warnings ever. Again, thank you for listening to micro Terrors.
Join us each Saturday for another scary story. For more fun, visit our
website at microterrors dot com, where we will also have spooky games you can
print out and play like Wicked word searches, mysterious mazes, and more.
Microterrors dot com is also where you can find us on your favorite social media
and even send in your own scary story for us to tell. Plus,
you'll learn more about our author, Scott Donnelly, who has other horrors for
both young and old. I hope you'll join me again soon for micro Terrors
Scary stories for kids