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 tonight's micro terror. In the Wake of the
Dragon's Breath by Scott Donnelly, Treacherous couldn't even begin to describe the driving conditions.
My dad was usually a maestro behind the wheel, making every single trip
anywhere as slick and smooth as possible. But as the rain poured down all
around us as we traveled the unfamiliar highway at night, something just felt off.
From the back seat, I could see his grip on the steering wheel
was tighter than normal. My mom, in the passenger seat extended her hand
to his leg as a comforting gesture. My dad, however, barely reacted
to it. He kept both hands gripped around the steering wheel and leaned forward,
trying to summon some sort of extra power to pierce the pounding rain against
the windshield. The wipers, which were on full blast, didn't seem to
be helping. With every swipe up and down that they took, a flood
of rain would wash down the glass, voiding out all of the hard work
those poor little mechanical appendages were doing. My dad reached over to the center
of the dash and pressed a button. The gentle, repetitive clicking sounds of
the hazard lights were now the only other sound in the car other than the
rain slamming against the aluminum shell that surrounded us. My nerves were on edge,
now being tested by the clicking sound, the hard rain, and my
mom's increasingly shallow breaths. She was nervous. My dad remained silent, however,
holding his gaze forward. Then, out of nowhere, one of our
tires must have hit an anomaly in the road. My dad instinctively slammed on
the brakes and spun the wheel. The tires screeched against the wet pavement beneath
us. I raised my hands and braced them against the roof of the car.
My mom screamed, my dad shouted at us hang on, and then
everything went silent. After that, when I regained my awareness. All I
could hear was the rain continuously battering the car. Neither my mom nor my
dad were making a sound. I opened my eyes and immediately remembered what had
happened. The rain, the tenseness, the car accident. I unbuckled my
seat belt and leaned into the front of the car, where my dad and
mom sat slumped over in their seats. Mom, Dad, I cried out,
fearing the worst. My voice jostled my mom awake. Immediately, her
eyes fluttered open and she looked at me, Danny. She quietly said,
are you okay? Yes, I said, are you She nodded and continued
to speak softly. I think so. She looked past me and over at
my dad in the driver's seat. He was still slumped over, unconscious but
breathing. Call for help, she said to me. I fumbled around the
front of the car for her phone, but couldn't find it. I then
searched my dad's side, but couldn't find his either. The accident must have
tossed everything that was loose around. I checked the floor in the back but
couldn't see it. I can't find your phones, I said, in a
panic. My mom put a gentle, comforting hand on my arm. I
looked at her try to wave down a car. Then she said it might
be our only chance to get some help. Quickly, I frantically nodded.
I turned around and saw my raincoat strewn across the back of the seat.
I tossed it on and forced open the damaged back door. I was immediately
hit by a thunderous roar of rain and wind. I put the raincoat hood
over my head and pushed the door closed to keep the water out of the
car, and then turned around to see where I was. The only light
I had was from our car's headlight, beaming through the rainy night. In
their beams. I saw trees and bushes, but no road. Behind me
was a slope that went upward. Had we come down it? I turned
around and tried my best to see through the falling wall of rain. Then
a glint of light in the dark woods caught my eye. As quickly as
it caught my attention, it was gone. I squinted, hoping to see
it again, and I did several seconds later. It was a green glow
that quickly vanished again. Hello, I called out, but knew no one
would be able to hear me in the storm. I started to jog towards
the glow, splashing through muddy puddles and moving around trees and overgrown bushes.
The closer I got, I realized that the glow wasn't coming and going,
but it was static, its appearance only being affected by the vicious swaying of
trees and branches in the wind. If there was a light on, someone
had to be man. I continued on through the woods and finally came to
the source of the light. I stood before a watch tower of some kind.
Standing atop four tall wooden legs was a small, boxy room. In
one of the open sides. I could see the green glow. It looked
like a treehouse or a fort that any kid would love to have in their
backyard. Hello, I called up to the room. Anyone there. We
were in a car accident and we need help. No one answered my calls.
That's when I noticed a ladder was affixed to one of the wooden legs
of the watch tower. Maybe they still couldn't hear me over the rain and
wind. I decided to climb the ladder, careful not to slip on each
of the slick mossy rungs. When I got to the top, I climbed
through an opening on the side and into the tower room. I removed my
hood and looked around. To my surprise, there was no one there.
There was, however, a small table in the middle of it with an
old, antique looking lantern sitting on it. Within the glass of the lantern
was a fluttering green flame. Along the wall was a wooden chest crested by
a red and gold steel trim. I walked over to the chest and placed
my hands on it. The lock on its front was unlocked. It took
notice of a small green stone shaped like a flame, jammed in the center
of it. The chest's hinges then creaked. As I lifted the lid to
look inside, dust plumed out, and I coughed as the particles tried to
invade my lungs. Once I showed away the dust, I reached inside the
chest and pulled out a heavy iron shield. It was mostly red and crisscrossed
with long, thin silver panels to give it its design. Setting the shield
down next to me, I reached into the chest again to see if there
was anything else, and there was two things, actually swords, both of
them identical. Their handles were wrapped in well worn grips. Their blades steel
from what I could tell, were scratched and chipped along the edges. They'd
seen some kind of action at some point. There was no history buff nor
did I pay much attention to this stuff in school, so I couldn't tell
which time period they were from. The first thing that came to my young
mind were video games, and my favorite kind at that, action adventure games
that would send you across vast lands of mystery and wonder with nothing but a
sword and shield on your back. Survival after that was up to you.
I slung the shield over my back and carried the weapons with me. As
I approached the lantern, there was a knob on the side of it,
which made the green flame grow bigger. I turned it to the other side,
which made it shrink but never actually go out. I turned it back
to a neutral position, and that's what I noticed. At the base of
the lantern was a small notch shaped like was that an upside down rain drop?
The fluttering green light caught my eye again, bouncing shadows off the interior
of the watch tower. A flame. I thought it wasn't an upside down
raindrop. It was the outline of a flame similar to I turned around and
saw the green flame shaped emerald in the chest lock. I plucked it out
and then lined it up with the notch on the base of the lantern.
It would fit perfectly. I wondered what would happen. I wondered what this
would unlock. I placed the emerald in the lantern and pushed it all the
way. It began to glow as well. The flame inside the lantern then
radiated with pulsing bursts of white light, blinding me to the point of me
covering my eyes. A sonic burst of energy then threw me backward and I
hit the wall of the watch tower. I cringed in pain. As I
regained my composure, I climbed to my knees and opened my eyes. Everything
was different. I was still in the watch tower, but it was no
longer night time, and it was no longer raining outside. It was daytime.
The air that flowed in from the watchtower windows was warm. Everything outside
sounded calm. I stood to my feet and walked to one of the windows.
My eyes must have been deceiving me. No longer was I in the
middle of a dark thunderstorm throttled forest. I was in a watch tower that
loomed over a small medieval style village. The homes that I could see were
made from stone and wood, the roofs thatched with dry reeds, heather,
and straw. A windy dirt path snaped through the village, eventually finding its
way through a wooden gate and disappearing over a hill that opened to a vast
expanse of fields, mountains, and forests. Music caught my ear. It
was calm, soothing. Then I saw someone emerge from one of the dwellings,
playing a pan flute. Hello, I called down to him. The
man stopped playing and looked up at me. Immediately, his gaze just lingered
on me. I guess I hadn't given any thought as to where I was
or what had happened. My instincts were still to help my mom and dad
back in the car, so when I saw someone, I just called out
for them. Whether or not that was a good idea or not, I
wasn't sure yet. Cal him down from there, the man said. I
turned back and saw the second sword still on the table. I grabbed it,
and then noticed the green flame emerald that I'd placed in the lantern had
shattered like a piece of hard candy all over the table. I carefully descended
the ladder on the side of the watch tower, and the man with the
pan flute met me underneath it. He looked me up and down, wondering
who I was and where I'd come from. I looked at him as well.
He looked strange to me. He was a fool man, but no
taller than I was. He was dressed in plain colored, loose fitting clothing.
His ears were on the sharper side, and his facial features were just
slightly off from the average persons. Where did you come from, he asked,
the road. I said, we had an accident and my parents hurt.
What road, the man said. I turned around to show him the
direction I had come from, But beyond the wooden fence standing behind me was
just an endless sea rolling hills. I turned back to the man. I
found the watchtower, I said. I climbed it and found these. I
showed off my weapons and shield. Then I put that emerald in the lantern
and ended up here. The emeralds brought you here, the man asked curiously.
I nodded, yeah, but it's broken now. It shattered everywhere,
shattered. The man exclaimed, Oh that's not good. That's not good at
all. Oh what do you mean, I asked, starting to panic.
The man turned around and also started to panic. What's going on? I
pleaded. He then turned back to me and looked me dead in the eyes.
That was the last of the flame emeralds. If it's destroyed, that
means there's nothing holding back the darkness now darkness, and nervously gulped, fearing
that I had severely messed something up without even knowing it. You've doomed us,
the man said, You've doomed all of Miston and misting. What's Miston?
The man turned around and presented the vast worlds to me. This is
Miston, our world, our home. In the distance, over the lush,
magnificent and beautiful scenery, black clouds began to form over the mountains and
leak across the crystal blue sky, crawling quickly in our direction. Within the
spreading black glooms, something swirled within it, revealing only pieces of itself at
a time, like a shark exposing its dorsal thin in the ocean. Whatever
it was was large, black, and scaly. Why what is it?
I trembled. The man just looked on as all of the other villagers slowly
and nervously exited their homes to get a look at the encroaching doom. That's
Doma, the Black Dragon, the man said, dropping his pan flute to
the ground. He is how we all become extinct. Within the black,
billowing clouds quickly heading our way, Doma swam through them, elegantly, expressing
loud roars and sending heavy gusts from its flapping, leathery wings. His head
made a brief appearance through the inky blackness. Two yellow eyes glowed in front
a long snout extended downward, lined with rows of sh sharp teeth. Doma
opened his mouth and released a thunderous roar, followed by an explosive stream of
fire from deep within his core. Even though the dragon was in the distance,
I could still feel the heat from its fiery breath as if it were
right in front of me. This was not good. Doma the Black Dragon
roared maliciously within the unnatural dark clouds unfurling over Miston, the mysterious yet serene
world I now found myself in A scream, was caught in my throat,
along with a coagulation of nerves and anxiety. I wasn't sure how I ended
up here. We'd been in a car accident, that much, I was
sure of. One minute, I was racing through the woods in the stormy
night, trying to find help. The next I was here in miss and
in my hands were two battle damaged swords. On my back a shield wrapped
around me. Still was my yellow raincoat. The man who had emerged from
his dwelling in the village, the man who had been playfully blowing on a
pan flute before he saw me, stood in fear as he watched Doma writhe
within the black clouds, skewing roars and steady streams of fire from deep within
his throat, just as the rest of the villagers raced from their homes to
get a look at the oncoming hostility in the sky. The man turned and
faced me. What is your name, he said, swallowing heavy fear.
Danny, I said, I'm Bolin boln Barspow. I nodded, not sure
why he was introducing himself now, when the aura around us felt as if
everything was about to end anyway, Danny Bolan said, you were brought to
Miston for a reason. You arrived just as Doma has reawakened. I'm not
usually a man who puts much of my beliefs and the oracle scriptures of old,
but these two events happening simultaneously are impossible to ignore. What are the
oracle scriptures of old? I asked my initial thoughts, once again heading toward
elements of fantasy books and video games that I'd read and played I have a
copy of. Bolan began but was interrupted by another villager shouting the vessels,
the vessels. There were village wide gasps and screams. Everyone, including Bolan
and myself, looked to the sky as the black clouds flowed over top of
us like an ocean tide. We saw numerous objects shoot down from them,
leaving smoky black trails in their wake. The objects crashed down all across Miston,
or at least the portion of the world. I could see the mountains,
the valley, and then just outside of town there were two objects that
slammed into the ground, embedding themselves and lifting the dirt and oil up around
them. Vessels, I thought, remembering what the villager had shouted, vessels
for what they looked more like eggs. They were large, about the size
of a full grown human. They were mostly black, embraced with glowing green
swirls. Then, just like an egg, they cracked. The sound was
sickening, like bones breaking. The shells of the eggs exploded outward, and
emerging from within them were dragons. They were on a smaller scale than doba.
That much was obvious, but they were still just as menacing in their
appearance. They were red and black in color, scaly, and had razor
sharp teeth glistening in their mouths. Strong leathery wings unfolded from their backs,
and long tails unrolled, revealing hooked ends that looked as if they could slice
through anything. The two dragons outside the gates of the town roared and then
charged us. One ran, one took flight. The villagers screamed and scattered
in a panic. They took shelter in their homes, locking their doors.
Bolan grabbed me and we ran as the dragon on foot charged towards us,
with nothing but animalistic rage billowing from it. It roared startlingly enough to look
briefly over my shoulder. That's what I saw. It open its mouth and
spray a jet of fire at us. I felt the heat immediately. Bullan
did too, so he yanked me to the side, pulling me down behind
one of the stone homes. The dragon continued past us, its firestorm leading
the way and burning the ground ahead of it. What do we do,
I panicked. Bullan caught his breath and peered around the side of the stone
house. The dragon continued to rush toward another home, one made of wood
and a thatched straw roof. It skidded to a stop, took a deep
breath, and spelled a fiery blast that engulfed the entire home within seconds.
A heavy gusting woosh from above pulled our attention to the sky. The second
dragon flapped its wings like large tarps, searching the ground for targets. Bolland
turns to me, Miston, who will fall Doma and the dragons will rain?
He said, This is all prophesied and the oracle scriptures of old.
I just looked at him. There has to be something we can do,
I said, not willing to just accept this as the end like he was.
The scriptures said that when Doma awakens, he would rain down vessels to
incinerate the masses. Anything or anyone left would be devoured by Doma himself,
and then the Age of the Dragons would rain for thousands of centuries. What
about me, I asked, What do I have to do with this?
You said that Doma and I arriving at the same time was impossible to ignore.
What else do the oracle scriptures say? Bolan looked me in the eye
and then said softly to himself, it wasn't supposed to be a child.
What are you talking about, I asked. Another roar from the soaring dragon
above rattled Bolan from this concentration. Then we heard another house still up in
flames, followed by screams from the villagers. I have a copy of the
Oracle scriptures in my cellar, Bolan said, if we can get to it
before it's burned up, I can read to you what has been foretold about
Riston and why you might be so important to us. Well, where's your
home, I asked. He motioned in the direction of the watch tower.
I peeked around the side of the stone house we hid behind and saw the
tower. Beneath the tower, I saw the small home where I had initially
seen Bolin emerge from playing his pan flute. So far it had been untouched
by the dragons. Well, I said, pulling up both of the battle
damaged swords in my hands. I had weapons. I handed one to Bolan
and he accepted it. Let's go. Bolan nodded and gripped the sword as
if he had done so in the past. I sensed team may have had
either a history with the swords or just battles in general. I didn't know
what Miston had seen before I arrived, but like with any world or land,
battles and wars were an unfortunate commonplace. We both crouched down and I
followed his lead. When the coast was clear, we made our move.
He rushed out from behind the stone house. But immediately our luck ran out.
The grounded dragon snapped its head toward us, away from the pile of
cinder it was creating out of another home. It roared and then hissed,
charging us with ferocious speed. Bolan stopped and held up his sword. His
battlestance confirmed to me that he had seen action in the past. Get to
my house, Bowen commanded. In the cellar in the chest, read the
oracle scriptures of old. If you are truly a fall told hero, I
Misston, then you know what to do. But what if I go?
No, Bolan shouted as the dragon charged him with loud shrieks and roars.
As it approached him, it spun around and swung its tail, but Bolan
ducked and dodged its fiercely sharp hook. Bolan stood to his feet and swung
his sword back, connecting with the dragon's side. It shrieked in pain and
then slashed at Bolan with one of its claws. Bolan bounced backward, dodging
the attack. I realized Bolan knew what he was doing, so I decided
to just get to his house as quickly as I could and just hope that
he made it there as well. Once his sparring match was over, I
heard the clang of his sword against the scaly hide of the dragon. As
I raced toward his house. There was nothing in my way as long as
I could get inside without The airborne dragon dropped hard to the ground between myself
and Bolan's house. Dirt and rocks swirled up around it like a dust storm.
As it lowered its head. Its cursed yellow eyes glared at me,
its lips quivered, and then it expelled a loud and predatory roar. I
stopped where I was, but only for the briefest moment did I feel fear.
I thought about how Bolwin was facing off against one of these beasts as
well. I remembered how he said I might be the hero of Miston,
and I liked that title. I wanted to be the hero of Myston.
I'd never been a hero before. I held my sword out in front of
me and pulled the shield off my back. I held it up and smirked
at the dragon. Come and get it, lizard brain, I equipped.
The dragon must have not liked my quip. It hissed and then spewed flames
directly at me and placed the shield in front of my body. I felt
the flames pound against the front of the shield like a pressure washer. When
they subsided, I stood up and saw the dragon switch gears. It charged
me on foot. I rolled out of the way just as the dragon slammed
a claw down at me. It hit the dirt, sending a tremor my
way and shaking me off balance. I fell to my back on the ground,
leaving myself exposed. The dragon then appeared over top of me. I
looked up, seeing nothing but the underside of its belly first, then it
lowered its head again. It snarled, its breath as hot as an oven,
leaked over me. One blast of fire and I was a goner.
But as exposed as I was, so was he. Thinking quickly before he
had the chance, I thrust my sword upward into the underbelly of the beast.
It recoiled, shrieked, and backed off, spinning around in agonizing pain.
I stood up just as its hooked tail came swinging at me. I
lifted my sword and hacked at it, flopping off the hooked portion. It
flopped to the ground and wriggled for a moment before falling still. The dragon
howled and tried to take flight again, but its injuries had hindered its dexterity.
It wobbled to the side and collided with one of the homes that had
previously sent a flame. The dragon was engulfed in its own destruction. It
went up in flames, with the house eventually disappearing within the fiery display.
I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The hand touched my shoulder and I
jumped It's just me Bolan said. His face and body were covered by scrapes
and cuts, but he was alive. Twenty yards or so behind him,
the other dragon lay slain. Calm, Bolan said, leading me to his
home above Miston Doma stirred, restlessly, agitated, and enraged. The inside
of Bolan's home stunk of smoke, no doubt from the collective onslaught of the
attack on the village. His home was dimly lit by lanterns and candlelight,
mostly trusting the natural light from outside for daily comfort. But with the dark,
undulating clouds that had spread across the sky, that natural light was all
but gone. Now. Bolan crossed the length of his home and arrived at
the door that looked to be made of a soft, swollen wood. He
turned to me and tossed the sword that he still possessed to me. I
caught it with ease, surprising myself, but not Bolan. He smirked like
he expected me to easily catch the sharp flying weapon. Could I have actually
been the prophesied hero of myston? He spoke of. Bolan pulled the door
open and revealed a dark staircase that descended beneath the ground. Follow me,
He said, I did as he told me and followed him into the dark,
damp cellar beneath his house. While above the angry black dragon Doma released
a vicious roar that shook every single loose object in Bolan's home. In the
cellar, Bolan ignited a torch. The bright flame lit up most of the
room. The floor was a layer of dirt, wet in some places,
and along each wall were shelves crudely built into the dirt. He went directly
to a shelf that contained several books. He pulled one off in particular and
blew a thin coating of dust off of it. Bolan handed me the book
The Oracle Scriptures by Lady Walda Naywell. I read the title and its author
aloud, page two seventy six. Bolan said, I sat my swords down
and flipped two page two seventy six. It was a chapter called the Oracle
Scripture years of old, read Bolden said, I placed my finger on the
first word and read the first paragraph out loud. Through harsh winds, to
brave the fires of Miston, a hero will arrive unannounced. His presence shall
look grim at first, bringing rise to Doma, the black dragon, but
soon will prove to be the brilliance. Using the weapons of his senior,
he shall be armed enough to save Miston. In the wake of the dragon's
breath. I furrowed my brow at the paragraph. Sure it sounded like what
was going on, but there was no way this was what was happening.
I wasn't whisked away from my life in a ball of light or anything and
ended up here. We were in a car crash. I left to get
help. That's when I stumbled on this place. I thought back to the
watchtower and the green flame of the lantern. I thought about the chest with
the swords and the green emery world. When I placed it in the lantern,
it shattered and then everything went bright. We a second, I thought,
am I dead? Bolan just cocked his head. That's your response to
reading the prophecy. There was a loud rumble and thunderous roar from above that
now shook everything in the cellar, including Bolan and myself. We shifted off
balance, but Bolan caught himself on me, placing one hand on my arm.
Don't question who you are, he said, You're a hero, Danny.
You have to trust and believe that with his torch. He pointed up,
following the licking flames. With his gaze. Doma sounds angry. We
don't have much time, Misteron doesn't have much time. Bolan returned his gaze
to me, hopeful and desperate. How had I gotten myself into this?
As Doma released another horrifying scream from above and not twisted in my stomach.
But not because of the dragon and the devastation it had been raining down on
Miston. It was because of my parents. They were still stuck in the
car, trapped. It had been up to me to go out and look
for help. When I ended up here, I failed them. I was
fighting someone else's battle when I needed to be fighting for my parents. Something
caught my eye at the top of the dark staircase. It was gone as
quickly as it happened, but I was certain as to what I saw,
A small, green, flickering flame. It immediately reminded me of a way
Hume. I looked back to Bolan, a sense of hope now in my
eyes. I swallowed hard and breathed deeply. Stay here, I told him,
You'll be safe. Bolan nodded and slunk back into the corner. Of
the cellar. I tossed the book down on an old, rickety table,
grabbed my swords, and raced back up the staircase, a new sense of
energy swelling within me. I closed the door behind me, sealing Bolan off
from the horrors that were undoubtedly about to unfold outside, and then left his
home Outside. The air had grown cold due to the thick layer of black
clouds that loomed overhead. I could see Doma's body writhing within them, his
tail occasionally slicing through, and parts of the blackness lighting up from the fiery
breaths he was expelling. I looked over to the smoldering house where the dragon
I had killed crash landed. Most of the fire had subsided at this point,
leaving the house to just spew thick black smoke into the air. The
dragon's body ironically charred beyond recognition, laying half in and half out of the
smoky dwelling. I needed to find a way to get Doma's attention, and
since he didn't seem to like when Bolin and I killed his little scaly messengers
of death, I figured I'd go over and tarnish the body some more.
I spun my swords in my hands like a professional, and stormed over to
the smoking home. I raised both swords over my head and slammed them down
into the dragon's well done body, like I was the one about to carve
the Thanksgiving turkey. A loud roar. He erupted, reverberating through the ground
and up the blades of the swords. My hands rattled violently, and I
released my grip on them. I looked up to the sky, and just
as I had hoped, I had poked the bear Doma thrashed around, slashing
its claws and whipping its hooked tail. He roared and blew a white hot
stream of fire through the clouds. I almost had him. I needed one
more nail in the coffin. I looked at the charred remains of the infantry
dragon, and then, with as much force as I could muster, I
delivered a kick to its hindquarters like I was punting a football. That did
it. Dema finally revealed himself in full. The dragon was massive, putting
God's Zilla out of shame. It fell from the clouds and opened its wings,
sending hurricane forced gusts of wind to cross Miston. All I could to
keep from being knocked down or blown away, I grabbed the hilts of the
swords and ripped them out of the overcooked dragon. I held them up in
front of me as Doma's sword through the air and in my direction. Within
the steel blade of one of the swords, a glinting green light caught my
eye. It was reflecting from something behind me. I turned around and didn't
see anything. There was no green light anywhere. However, the watchtower did
loom not that far away. Maybe the lantern had been trying to work.
Again, I was rushed by Doma. He flew over top of me,
actually knocking me off my feet. This time, I'd been too distracted by
the green light. When I stood up, I held the swords tightly and
gritted my teeth. I faced Doma as he turned around in the sky and
flew back toward me. I held the swords out in front of me,
again, not exactly sure what I was going to do. Doma roared.
My legs were shaking as it flew over me. I jumped and tried slashing
at it over and over, but I missed every single time. That's when
Doma's tail wriggling like a devilish snake snaffed like a whip and knocked both swords
from my hands. I flew several yards away and shattered upon a rock.
My eyes widened and a hollow breath escaped me. Oh no, I trembled.
Doma turned around again and made a third pass at me. This time,
he opened his mouth. His teeth glistened deep within his throat. Before
the bulb of white hot flames began to conjure I saw the small green flame
flicker again. Something told me the green flame was trying to communicate with me,
trying to guide me, but guide me into the dragon's mouth. I
wasn't so sure about that. As the ball of white hot fire swelled within
the blackness of Doma's throat, it reached maximum power and exploded outward. Thinking
quickly, I removed the shields from my back and placed it in front of
me, kneeling down behind it to completely conceal myself. The flames pounded the
other side with enough force to push me backward. When the fiery thrashing had
ended, I stood up and awaited Doma's next pass. I looked around frantically
for anything I could use as a weapon. The only thing within reach was
the hooked end of the dragon's tail that I had severed earlier. I remember
thinking how it had the appearance of being so sharp that it could have been
capable of cutting through anything. Out of options, I picked it up and
wielded it as my new weapon. I gritted my teeth and held my ground
as Doma flew back at me. He roared, unhinged his jaw, and
that's when I closed my eyes. I swung the hooked tail, but felt
it only slice through air. Then I was plowed into by Doma's jaw.
I stumbled forward, losing my grip on the shield and falling face first onto
his sticky, hot tongue. The walls of his mouth all tensed and flexed
at once, and within seconds I was pulled back further within him and finally
swallowed. I opened my eyes a moment later to darkness. My surroundings were
gross and wet, smelled musty and sour. Everything sloshed around me. I
heard echoes of screaming and hurried voices. I still gripped the hooked tail in
my hand, so I was prepared for anything. Suddenly materializing ahead of me
was the small green flame It flickered just ahead, giving me enough light to
take in my surroundings. I was in danger. I was in the belly
of the beast. Next to me were two other bodies, a man and
a woman, floating in the murky contents of Doma's stomach. Even though they
were faced down. Something told me they were alive. Are you guys okay?
I called out to them, my voice echoing in Doma's stomach chamber.
I swam over to them and shook their bodies. Stay with me, I
called out, I help you get out of here. With the hooked edge
of the tail in my hand, I held my breath and dove into the
murky sludge, feeling my way to the bottom. When I finally felt its
slimy, soft surface, I stabbed the hooked dragon's tail into it and sliced
as hard as I could. The dragon's belly opened up, spilling out all
of its contents, including me. I kept my eyes closed tightly, trying
to avoid the sludgy mess getting into them. When my body hit the ground,
I felt the watery contents still continued to fall on me, pittering and
pattering on my face and body. I felt myself submerged and the murky remains
of the dragon. I heard voices. He's here, one of them said,
the boys here was that bowen. I chose to keep my eyes closed,
not ready to see what I had done to the dragon or what mess
was surrounding me. Then a green light shined on me. I could see
it pulse through my eyelids. The man and woman are alive, another voice
echoed, not that far away. Man and woman, the ones who were
floating in the dragon's stomach. I opened my eyes to see a small green
light shining in my face. I swiped at it, connecting with someone holding
a flashlight with a greenish tint. He was a man wearing a fireman's jacket
and hat. Rain poured down over him and dripped onto me. I squinted,
and the fireman smiled. You're gonna be okay, he said, Your
parents are okay too. My parents, I groggily asked him, grabbing at
my head to try and suppress a splitting headache. He helped me sit up
and I looked around. I was lying in the mud, surrounded by trees.
There were flashing lights in the distance, red and blue. They were
emergency lights. The accident, I thought, did you try to go for
help? Little man? The fireman said, helping me to my feet.
That's pretty heroic, he said, with a gentle pat on my back.
Iremen helped to be trudged through the mud and through the trees. I glanced
back, wondering about the green flame and the watch tower in the woods.
A couple of hours later, while in the hospital, I had the full
story. We had wrecked. Obviously. I suffered a concussion which caused me
to lose consciousness in the woods. When I went for help, someone had
seen our vehicle go off the road and called nine one one. I wasn't
out there too long before the rescue workers arrived. My parents, who also
suffered some minor injuries and concussions, came to visit me in my recovery room.
My dad's head was bandaged up and my mom's arm was held tightly across
her midsection in a dark blue sling. Are you okay, Danny, my
mom asked. I nodded with a smile. You went for help, she
said, a proud look on her face. A real hero, my dad
added, with a quick squeeze to my leg. I smiled. I passed
out in the woods, though, I said, I'm not sure I succeeded.
You took the initiative. My mom said, you braved the rain,
the wind, the dark, the dragon, I jokingly added. My mom
cocked her head, huh, nothing, I said, passing it all off
as a joke. Now I realized everything I had experienced in Miston was just
an unconscious dream i'd had. My dad looked concerned. He put a hand
on my mom's shoulder. Can you go get the doctor, he asked her.
My mom, assuming my dad was worried about something, maybe the fact
that I had just mentioned a dragon, didn't hesitate. She left to fetch
a doctor. Immediately. My dad sat on the edge of my hospital bed.
Are you okay, he asked. I nodded. I was just joking
about the dragon. Dad, I don't need no He said, you weren't
You were there? You were in Miston. I wondered that the moment the
paramedics said you were unconscious out in the woods, I didn't know what to
say. I just looked at him. He smiled. I've been there myself,
he said. When I was your age, I'd fallen from a tree
I was climbing. I blacked out for not even a full minute. But
I was in Miston for hours, helping a small village fight against the skull
Lord. My dad leaned in closer. A dragon, you say, I
nodded, Doma, the black dragon. They said, I was the hero
of Miston. I was there to defeat Doma and bring peace to Miston.
My dad smirked, you one. I nodded, I think so. I
woke up just as I delivered the final slice. He smiled again and tussled
my hair. You wouldn't have been able to leave until you won, he
said, you one. He indicated, Miston is safe again. As I
lay there, taking in everything my dad was saying, I thought back to
a specific line in the Oracle scriptures of old. Using the weapons of his
senior, he shall be armed enough to save Miston in the wake of the
dragon's breath. The weapons of my senior, the weapons of my dad.
For some reason, Danny, the men in our family have been tasked with
protecting a land known as Miston. My dad said, you did it.
I did it. Your grandfather even had quite the adventure there, and one
day, because of some unforeseen accident, your son may suffer. He'll be
called upon as well. It was then that my mom came back into the
room with a doctor. My dad put his finger to his lips, ordering
the existence of Miston to secrecy. I obliged. Miston would remain as only
a memory for myself, a shared treasure between my father and I, until
one day when my own son will confide his unconscious adventure in me. 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,
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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. He