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 Mouncula by Scott Donnelly. Dude,
will you just give him my two hundred dollars? Brad said, with
irritation. I passed go like three turns ago, so it's more like six
hundred dollars. What are you looking at? Anyway? Ricky, Brad's best
friend and current monopoly opponent, seemed distracted by whatever was on his phone.
Every few seconds, it kept dinging with alerts and notifications. Smiles and soft
giggles kept on coming from Ricky, and Brad knew what that meant. It
was a girl, more specifically Mandy May from science class. Dude, give
me my cash, Brad exclaimed, finally snapping Ricky out of his fluttery spell.
What Ricky asked his attention finally refocused. Give me my, Brad began,
but then altered his plan. Give me my one thousand dollars. I've
passed to go five times now while you've been buried in your phone. Oh
sorry, Ricky said, slipping out ten one hundred dollars bills from the bank.
He handed over the cash and Brad counted it up with an honory smirk.
He figured, if Ricky was going to be sketchy, then so is
he. Who is that, Brad asked, nodding to the phone. Mandy
May, Ricky said, with a smile. Brad knew it. He rolled
his eyes. Mandy May was a pretty girl at school that every boy had
a crush on at one point or another. Curly up to bat was Ricky
and probably at least six or seven other middle schoolers. It was a hot
topic at the moment that she'd been out sick from school for three days with
what she only kept vaguely referring to as a rash. She was missing a
lot of assignments, and all the boys seemed to worry about her falling behind.
She was a smart girl, so most of the worry probably just came
from the other love sick boys wanting her attention. Ricky happened to fall right
into the mix. I dropped Dov some homework on her front porch before I
came home, Ricky said, didn't want her to fall behind in class.
Brad rolled his eyes again, she'll be fine. Plus, I've heard that
her older brother is getting sick and tired of boys bringing over her homework.
I'd stay away if I were you. I've been trying to face time with
her, but she won't do it. She says the rash is too hideous,
even more reason to let the whole thing go. Ricky ignored his friend's
morning and kept smiling at the phone as another text came in his mouth,
then widened, Well, look at that, mister, stay away from her.
Ricky held the phone up and Brad saw the latest text come through.
Mandy had thanked him for bringing over her latest assignment and said her brother was
on his way with a gift. Brad shook his head. I had to
like this one bit, he said. Her brother is mad, not thankful.
He's probably gonna beat you up becomes bearing gifts, Brad. Ricky said,
the whole May family is thankful for me now. Brad was certain that
was not how it was going to go. Ten minutes later, after Brad
was able to lie his way to another one thousand dollars, the doorbell rang.
Ricky scrambled to his feet and rushed to the door. Brad stood up,
but hung back, cautious of what Mandy May's brother was going to unleash.
A fury of punches, an atomic wedgie, shaving cream to the eyeballs,
the possibilities were endless. Ricky opened the door and there stood Willie May,
Mandy's older brother. He was tall and gangly, a senior in high
school from what everyone understood, and appeared to be struggling to grow his first
mustache. In his hands, he held a small wooden box with duct tape
holding the lid down. You, Ricky, Willy asked. Ricky nodded,
already extending his hand for the gift you the little spitwad brought Mandy that biology
homework, the one about frog body parts. Ricky nodded again. Willy spurked,
but it wasn't a thankful one. Like Ricky assumed. There was something
mischievous behind it. Our uncle brought this back from the expedition to the hoy
bought you forest in Romania over the weekend. Willy said, we want you
to have it. Ricky's eyes widened and he accepted the gift. Willie winked
and said he's your problem now, before hurrying back to his car and speeding
off. Ricky closed the door and faced Brad with the box. He looked
ecstatic, A gift from the Jungles of Romania. No, no, no,
Brad said, put that thing down, dude, I don't trust this
one bit. Come on, Brad, Ricky said, setting the box down
on the floor and tearing off the duct tape. What's the worst to get
happen? The top of the box blasted off and crashed down in the corner
of the room. Red fog rose from inside, as did something else.
It was small, about the size of a stuffed animal. It was a
monkey, wearing dark clothing and a flowing black cape. A red amulets hung
around its neck, and it flashed a set of long fangs from inside its
small mouth, extending its arms outward. The monkey levitated out of the box
and eerily hung in mid air. In a high pitched voice, the monkey
spoke, I am moncula with that Muncula launched from his floating position above the
box and directly at Ricky. He screamed and dropped to the floor, rolling
around as if he were on fire, but Mouncula kept torturing him, Zooming
back and forth in the air. He dived bombed Ricky several times. Each
time Muncula let out a high pitched blah blah, Get him off, me,
get him away, Ricky cried out. In the middle of his fire
prevention tactics. Brad turned and ran to the kitchen, catching Muncula's attention.
The Vanpuric primate hissed and extended its fangs through the air. He shot like
a cannon after Brad. Brad ducked around the corner and grabbed a dirty frying
pan from the sink. Muncula flew into the kitchen, where Brad immediately turned
and whacked him out of the air. Mouncula was flung back against the wall
and exploded into a cloud of red dust. When the dust settled, Brad
was able to catch his breath. He staggered back out into the living room,
stepping through the game of Monopoly, and helped Ricky to his feet.
Where was that thing? Ricky pleaded. Brad wasn't sure how to respond.
He'd never in his entire life seen anything like it. It must be some
kind of rare blah. Mouncula screeched from the ceiling fan, interrupting Brad's attempt
at an explanation. The pint sized barment dropped down from the fan like a
flying squirrel, his arms and cape stretched wide, and landed on Ricky's head.
Get it over me, Ricky screamed, frantically, galloping around the living
room. He reached up and tried to swat at the random miscreant, but
Mouncula held a tight grip on his hair. The wicked critter then descended down
to his shoulders and bit the teen boy on the neck. Ricky howled in
pain, and Munkula leaped off and back into the box in which he had
initially emerged from. Brad was quick to smash the lid back down on the
box and then sit on it. Are you okay, Brad called out to
his friend. Ricky had collapsed to his knees in pain, but slowly pulled
himself back up to his feet. He held his neck and winced. Brad
noticed a red gash began to spread up Ricky's neck and within seconds cover his
entire face. My god, Brad muttered to himself. We need to get
you some medical attention. I think I have the same rash Mandy may does,
Ricky proudly said, from beneath a red, swollen smile. But Brad
had more important things on his mind. He had to do something to get
rid of Moncula before that creepy little chimp decided to make another chaotic appearance.
Brad slowly stood up from the box so as to not disturb the vampiric terror
sheltering inside. He gathered clear packing tape from one of the kitchen drawers and
wrapped the box as tightly as he could. He then placed the box on
the front porch and closed the door. This isn't going to buy as much
time, Brad said, We need to get rid of it. Call Mandy
see what her uncle knows about monculas. As Ricky began to place a call
to Mandy, Brad wondered what kind of uncle she must have had to bring
back a moncula as a gift from an expedition. He must be a sick
oh, Brad thought, she's not answering, Ricky said. Brad huffed.
Her brother curses us with this thing, and then the entire may clan goes
dark. Great A noise on the porch caught the boy's ears, and they
rushed to the front window. A mail truck sat at the curb, and
the mailman was on the porch picking up the box. I can't see anything,
Ricky whined. Brad pushed some of his swollen cheek down out of his
line of sight. Ricky now watched along with Brad as the mailman carried the
box down to his truck, placed it in the back, and then drove
off to his next stop. He must have thought it was an outgoing package,
Ricky happily mumbled. Brad didn't care what the mailman thought. All that
mattered was that Moncula was gone. Now he was the problem of the United
States Postal Service. Thank you for listening to micro Terrors. Join us each
Saturday for an their 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