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 ears, 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 to Night's micro terror monsters. In the storm,
the police departments searches made all the more difficult to hide things to the
severe storms plaguing our area. The storm came in fast, much faster than
the weather man predicted on the TV before the power went out. I was
never one to be afraid of storms, but there was something about this one
that set my teeth on edge. Maybe it was the crashing thunder, blinding
lightning, or the relentless rain. But then again, maybe it was because
of the killer that was out there. My dad was on high alert.
Strange things had been happening around our little neck at the countryside. A couple
of people were missing and hadn't turned up yet. A strange man was reported
by one of our neighbors a couple of nights earlier, stalking around their yard
and peering in through their windows. Their barn door had been shimmied open and
rifled through. Nothing was taken, but there was a shadowy stranger in our
midst that was up to no good. Then last night, our closest neighbor,
Lawrence Wallace, was found de ceased after an apparent attack from this creeping
figure. My dad was convinced that we were all in danger and being hunted.
With the power out and the storm raging, I couldn't sleep. I
just sat on my knees at my bedroom window watching the dark. Wet trees
and wheat fields suffered tremendously in the winds. Lightning would frequently ripped through the
sky, giving me brief visuals of the storm in all its glory. Debris
jetted across our property, trees bent until they threatened to snap in half,
and the thunder roared overhead like a creature from the fiery bowels of Suddenly,
a blood curdling scream tore through the storm, even over the hing thunder and
pounding rain. It was the unmistakable sound of a woman in peril. She
screamed a second time which was quickly followed by a single, echoing dunshot that
silenced her. I stood to my feet, my heart racing and fear flushing
through me. There was a killer out there. We were in danger.
There was no other explanation. My bedroom door flew open, and my dad
charged in with a flashlight in hand, the beam of it bouncing around my
room, hitting a mirror and gleaming back in his eyes like a wild animal
caught in a car's headlights. We have to go, he expressed urgently.
Someone else is in danger. I didn't respond verbally. I just nodded.
I trusted my dad with my life. Everything I knew I learned from him.
He was there to teach me, to keep me safe. If he
said it was time to go, it was time to go. He clearly
knew something that I didn't, and I didn't dare question him. I grabbed
his hand and he led me downstairs, out of the house and to his
old pickup truck. Once inside, he started the engine and pulled out of
the driveway. The windshield wipers worked overtime to give him the best view of
the road ahead. I could hear the thunder booming above us, lightning struck
the ground up ahead, sending a sudden shock through my body, as if
I were the one that had just been hit. I was completely on edge
the store, the screams, the gunshot, the killer out in the store.
I finally spoke up, breaking my worried silence. Where are we going?
I asked. My dad was focused on the road. We hadn't driven
very far before he pulled into the next driveway just up the road. The
headlights of the truck illuminated our neighbor's house as he came to a stop.
He was where Karen Wallace lived with her now deceased husband Lawrence. Did you
hear that scream, he asked me. I nodded. It sounded like Karen,
my dad said, another flash of lightning, enhancing the look of determination
and fear on his face. That monster came back for her after killing mister
Wallace last night. My breathing picked up. If we don't stop him,
he's gonna kill all of us, my dad urged. He sounded blustered,
afraid. I wasn't used to seeing him like this, but I still trusted
that he knew what he was doing. Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder
shook the truck as a series of quick, bright blue flashes of lightning glinted
across the Wallace's property. I looked ahead and saw a man standing in front
of their house holding a long rifle. Dad look, I screamed, pointing
at the man. He looked, and there he saw the man with the
rifle. The man seemed surprised to see us and stood unsure in the pouring
rain. That's him, I thought, that's the killer. I didn't recognize
the man. He looked so average, so unassuming. Get in the back
seat, my dad instructed. I didn't hesitate. I unbuckled my seat belt
and climbed into the back seat of the truck. My dad opened the door
and stepped out into the rain. He slowly approached the man with bated breath.
I kept a close eye on things. I wasn't sure what I would
do if their interaction went south, but my instincts told me I would do
something. I watched my dad and the man exchanged brief words with one another,
and then, to my surprise, they both walked back toward the truck.
My dad climbed back in behind the wheel, and the soaked to the
bone stranger with the rifle climbed into the passenger seat. Once both doors were
shut, the stranger looked back at me through a bushy, unkempt beard.
He gave a half smile, a nervous smile. If I read it right,
this is mister Cyrus. My dad said, he's a hunter. Mister
Cyrus nodded, that's right, he said, with a nervous gulp. I've
been hunting a mom and tracked it here to this region of country land.
I couldn't believe how isolated it was out here, and then I realized it
was the perfect place for a monster to hide. I never expected to find
more more monsters, I said, in a shaky voice. Mister Cyrus nodded
a lot more, he said. They're all livering out here in some sort
of colony. What happened to missus Wallace, I asked. Mister Cyrus just
looked at me. That woman in there, he scoffed. She was one
of them, just like her husband was, just like the rest of the
colony. There are monsters there out of nowhere. My dad slammed his hand
down into mister Cyrus, getting turned discharged. The bone shilling screening my eyes
widened, and I pressed my back harder than I heard. A general power
will come out of my dad. Thunder clapped above us, and lightning flashed
erratically As I watched my dad attack mister Cyrus in an animalistic rampage. My
dad changed before my eyes, his arms bulking up and growing long brown hairs
that quickly spread over his entire body. His face elongated into a snarling snout.
He hissed between rows of piercing canine teeth, and then howling as he
continued to thrash mister Cyrus with his razor sharp claws. My Dad's eyes were
beaty and red, his hairy brow dripping just low enough to underscore his dangerous
inhuman actions. The attack was over quickly, mister Cyrus never stood a chance.
Slowly, the coarse brown hairs all over my dad's body began to sink
back into his skin. The wolf like snout he'd grown diminished, and his
eyes returned to normal. Turning around in his seat, he looked at me
and said, I wanted to explain so much more to you before showing you
what it's like in person. He said, I know that was probably a
lot to take in. He was right. It was a lot to take
in, a lot to see in person, but at the same time,
it was just like his teachings said, it would be like quick, powerful,
and messy. I'm assuming mister Cyrus was in communication with other werewolf hunters.
Soon they'll all descend upon our colony. We have to let the others
know we have to relocate immediately. I didn't want to leave, but I
understood why it was for our safety, our survival, and after seeing how
my dad handled the threat in person, I felt confident that the next time
trouble would arise, I'd be more than ready to step in and do my
part. Thank you for listening to micro Terrors. Join us each Saturday for
another scary story. For more fun, visit our website at micro terrors dot
com, where we will also have spooky games you can print out and play
like Wicked word searches, mysterious mazes, and more. Micro Terrors dot com
is also where you can find us on your favorite social media and even sending
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. From micro Terrors Scary Stories for Kids