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 Terror Beach by Scott Donnelly. Currently,
I'm surrounded by a dense forest. We have a campfire going, and
my dad is roasting hot dogs. My brother Kieran is silently sitting on a
log with the hood of a sweatshirt pulled tightly over his head, silent,
and my mom, well, she is in an understandable days. I'm a
little shaken myself. But you know what, if we would have just been
here camping in the woods in the first place, no one would be this
on edge. It was three to one vote that took our vacation to Pelican
Peer Beach and not the Maple Wild's National Forest for camping. Now, I
think the rest of my family is completely regretting not taking my side, not
joining my vote. But instead of enjoying our time together, my family is
still picking algae out of their hair, trying to shake the horrifying memories.
And I, well, I'm just glad to be away from that ocean.
When we arrived at Pelican Pier Beach, walking down the crooked wooden steps and
onto the sand in our swimsuits and bare feet, that was already in a
bad mood. I didn't want to be there. I didn't like the ocean.
It scared me. I'd watched too many Shark Week specials, studied too
many sea monsters, and spent way too much time wondering what lurked in the
deepest parts of the ocean that humans had yet to explore. And even though
I knew it was fictional, there was still a small part of me that
thought Cthulhu could be real. My parents and Kieran didn't waste any time getting
into the ocean. They tossed down the beach gear as quickly as possible,
haphazardly put up an umbrella, and then all raced into the surf like they
were stampeding lifeguards. I, however, remained on the beach, standing by
myself in the hot sand For a couple of minutes. I watched them splash
and frolic about. I wondered what the scene would look like if Cthulhu rose
from the depths behind them. I wondered what it would be like if the
gigantic tentacles of the Kraken were to rip through the surf and throttle everyone.
I wondered if panic would ensue if a dorsal fin sliced through the surface.
Would it look like a frantic scene from Jaws or would it be handled in
a calmer, more organized way. After my daydreams, I watched the seagulls
fly above me and people down the way play beach volleyball. That's when I
decided to take a walk. I kicked my way through the heavy sand,
moving around small shells and unearthing hermit crabs. Then, in an area where
there wasn't anyone else around, I stumbled across something strange. It looked like,
well, a Mermaid's art project or something. I picked it up and
looked at it. It was a conch shell about the size of the football,
decorated with colorful seashells, barnacles, and also filled with shells. I
could hear them rattle around inside like a baby's toy. Surely it had to
have been created this way, and wasn't the naturally forming thing. Things like
this simply didn't exist in nature. That's why I didn't feel bad for taking
it from the beach. I was guilt free from disrupting the natural order of
things. Later that evening, after ordering in a dinner of fish and chips
and sodas, the four of us ate until we were full. I may
not have liked the ocean, but I did like the food it supplied.
The fried catfish was amazing, and the seasoned fries were a perfect side.
With full bellies, we called it a night. My parents went to their
room, and Kira and I shared a room with the bunk bed. I
slept on the bottom. An hour or so had gone by. I could
hear my brother snoring above me, and both of my parents snoring in the
other room. I thought about the cool find I'd recovered on the beach.
I rolled onto my side and pulled out the decorated conch shell from underneath the
bottom bunk. Using the moonlight that reflected in through a small window in the
room, I looked at the shell over and over, trying to make sense
of it. Natural or hand crafted? That was the question of the day.
A salty breeze blew in through the window, fluttering the curtains. On
the breeze was another smell, a scent and odor. It smelled like dead
fish. That's when I heard the thud on the wooden planks of our porch.
It was followed by a wet, dragging sound. I sat up in
bed, listening to the repetitive nature of the thud and drag. Someone was
right outside our beach house. I jumped out of bed and raced to the
window. I looked out, but only caught the fading glimpse of a shadow
moving around the corner to the front door. The knocks warn't crisp like normal
knocks. They were sloppy and seemed to be made by someone who hadn't ever
tried knocking before. I crept out of my room and through the house.
Beams of moonlight shot through all the open windows, creating a glowing criss crossing
pattern throughout the house. I put my ear to the front door. The
conch shell was still firmly in my grip. Hello, I quietly called out,
trying not to wake my parents open, A deep, gurgling voice said
from the other side. The sound of it unnerved me, and I stepped
back away from the door. I went silent, but that only angered whoever
was outside. The voice repeated, No, I said, go away,
or going to wake up my dad. He's an orange belt in karate.
You don't want to mess with that. Suddenly the door burst in, and
I got a look at the terrifying thing that had been on the other side
of the door. It was large, draped and dripping with dark green algae
and stringy strands of seaweed. Its face was that of a deformed fish,
and it spoke to me again while entering the house. Give me the conch
shell, it said. I swallowed hard, but for some reason, I
didn't want to give up the shell. I held it firmly. No,
I stuttered. I was afraid, but it was my shell. I'd found
it, and I wasn't going to let any type of seaweed monster take it
from me. For all I knew this was a dream and I was going
to wake up any minute. My parents then came flying out of their room.
The crashing front door must have woken them. Hey, my dad,
shouted at the intrusive monster. What's going on here? Get out of our
beach house. We have it until Monday. Tell your offspring to give me
the conscio shell. The monster gurgled angrily. It belongs to my young one.
I knew it sounded like a baby rattle, but now I couldn't help
but wonder how many more of these goopy, slimy sea salad things were out
there. See, this is exactly why I don't go into the ocean.
My dad looked at me. Give it that shell, son, he said.
I shook my head, but I found it. It's my young one's
favorite plaything. The monster said. I stood my ground and vigorously shook my
head. Then I'll take your things. It gurgled. It reached out for
my dad. It's arm extending like a growing plant, and wrapped its stringy,
seaweedy fingers around his neck. It quickly pulled him back in and within
one heart stopping moment, devoured my dad in one gulp. I backed up
into the wall. My mom screamed, which woke Kuran. He came out
of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. Went Kelly on here and trying to
sleep with his other arm. The kelpie monster did the same thing to my
brother. In a split second, he was devoured as well. I didn't
know what to do. Instinct told me to hold the conscious shell tighter and
not let go, so I did. Seeing this only enraged the monster.
It came further into the house and grabbed my mom by her legs, lifting
her into the air and dropping her head first into its mouth. With one
loud, final gult, my entire family was gone, consumed by the algae
clad sea monster. The monster looked at me next menace glistened in its flat
black eyes. Here for me the corn shell. It gurgled one last time,
foll me seawater spilling from between its lips. I was shaking now,
so much so that I could feel my bones rattling beneath my skin. None
of this would have ever happened if we just went camping like I wanted.
I extended the couch shell out with my shaky hands. The monster grabbed it
from me and just stared into my eyes. You made the right choice,
it said, with those gurgly, bubbly words. It regurgitated my parents and
Kieran before my very eyes. They came up and out completely coated by a
sticky, slimy substance. I watched all of them writhe disoriented on the floor,
But when I looked back up at the monster, it was gone.
Only the open front door stood before me. Before the door was the night,
the gentle sound of waves crashing on the beach, and the salty breeze.
My parents and Kieran all sat up and started to wipe away to slime
and algae from their eyes and mouths. It looked like they were all okay
to me, Can we please just go camping next summer? I pleaded.
My dad quickly stood to his feet. He seemed alarmed and spoke with urgency.
We can go camping now. Everyone pack your things. We ride at
midnight. 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 horror for both young and old. I
hope you'll join me again soon for micro terrors scary stories for kids