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. The Talking Man by Rinaldo
Kadwaru. The beaches in Trinidad weren't that different from the ones in Miami.
Mom promised that if I left the video games in the hotel room for our
entire day on the last day of our vacation, she'd let me explore the
shore by myself like a big boy. But something tells me that she didn't
expect me to be able to do it, But I did, And a
promise is a promise. Greetings from the Barracuda Hotel, Mom read aloud postcards
from the gift shop while Dad looked for a cool T shirt or a souvenir
for himself. Our final day in Paradise was something straight out of a dream.
Steel Pan music greeting us at the hotel, lobby, local cuisine,
and quite literally the friendliest people on earth. Can't imagine why Mom ever wanted
to leave this place. I can't imagine why she was so afraid of coming
back. Grandma said that ever since Mom left Trinidad and moved to the States,
she hasn't quite been the same. That was almost twelve years ago,
and all I know is that Mom is still scared. She talks in her
sleep and he keeps dad and eye up. But what is she so afraid
of? Honest, look at this postcard. Such a scenic picture. I
mean, just look at that beach. Now tell me where you'd find such
a breath taking beach literally right outside, Mom, I interrupted, you know,
like the one you promised I could go hunting for pirate treasure on.
Remember Mom, that sounded a whole lot cooler in my head, but the
point still stood. A promise is a promise, honey. I'm sorry,
Mom said. The pirates left the Caribbean yesterday. They're on their way home
as we speak. No, they didn't. What makes you say that?
Because they're not real, Mom, I'm ten years old, not stupid.
I know the difference between imaginary friends and real ones. I swear it's so
hard being a kid. Sometimes no one ever takes me seriously. Well,
I'm imagining that they're back in Miami waiting for you. Maybe we should head
back home too. We can always be on the lookout for pirates another time.
Right, But Mom, I elvis, she said, in that calm,
yet serious tone that Dad and I had grown accustomed to. She wanted
me to drop it. She wanted me to not finish that thought, but
I had to. I pursed my lips and looked directly into those stern eyes
of hers. You promised. Like clockwork, Mom threw the look my way,
the very look that Dad and I had grown so familiar with, and
I knew it was over. She was going to pretend that she didn't hear
a word I said, and that would be it. End of discussion.
Man, I can't believe that my parents would rather be cooped up inside the
resort instead of enjoying the outdoor beauty around us. But I'm the homebody,
yeah, right. Ever since we arrived in Trinidad, Mom's been acting funny,
and I wish I knew why Dad was missing an action when the entire
ordeal between me and mom took place, but he wasn't blind to my frustration.
Of course, he waited for her to leave first, but as soon
as her back was turned, he reared his head and kneeled down to my
height. Hey you're a big boy, aren't you, Champ. Why don't
you go ahead and enjoy yourself. Catch a few waves. We'll be right
here. Really gee, thanks Dad, But what about Mom? Don't worry,
son, I'll handle your mother. This was my chance. I rushed
downhill without hesitation, not taking the flight of stairs that led to the shore,
but running down the grassy hill with all my momentum instead, as Dad
waved from the distance, before continuing his search for a souvenir that best suited
him, preferably a book. Hmmm, one hundred and one Trinidadian Jumbies to
keep You up at Night. The title in the back of the bookshelf caught
his eye almost instantly as he rummaged through the stack of the other books to
get it. Thanks to his wife, he knew that jumbies were the Caribbean's
version of ghosts, so this should make for a fun read. Lily,
Dear, look a book of local folklore. You're from around these parts.
Does any of this sound familiar? He eagerly flipped through the book. M
here we go the talking man. Many locals said that there was a man
who died of insanity on the tiny island off coast San Grante, sure is
the name of the place. They say that the little islet in the middle
of the ocean is cursed and harbor's the man's adistic spirit, who to this
day calls to innocent, unsuspecting women and children who drowned foolishly. Following the
man's charismatic voice, Lily gave him a weird look, almost as if something
was wrong, before snapping back to reality. Shad, Honey, that sounds
like a bunch of Belgney meant to trick poor tourists like yourself to spend your
money. I never heard that legend in my entire life. Shad chuckled through
his sentences in an attempt to lighten the mood. How have you ever heard
of him, dear? The book says that he died thirteen years ago,
and you left Trinidad what eleven twelve years ago? Like father, like son?
She said, Honey, don't waste your money on that crap. You're
better off getting something for you and Elvis, like matching T shirts or something.
That way we can have a cute family photo before we leave. Lily
stops, realizing something is wrong. Shad, Yes, honey, where's Elvis.
Shad buries his head in his book and dishes out the fatal blow.
Oh, I told him he could go for a swim. You what alone?
Are you insane? Lily ran out of the gift shop in a panic,
tossing everything in her hand to the side and racing down the hills.
El this illnes, She gasped, clutching her chest, trying to slip away
from her husband's grasp. Her ten year old son was nowhere in sight.
Lily, what's wrong? It's just a beach. You don't understand. I
need to save him from what She slowly turned to her husband. Lily wanted
to, but couldn't say what exactly she was afraid of. Instead, she
pointed at the book her husband picked from the shop. Suddenly, Shad understood
too. There weren't any other kids on the beach, but there were.
There are tons of sand castles lined against the shore like a barrier, almost
as if they were blocking the waves. Glimmering blue beams of sunshine glistened over
the majestic sea. You could see the islet perfectly from the shore, and
if you squid your eyes you could see some patches of orange and turquoise blue,
absolutely stunning coral reefs. Elvis. I heard someone call to me.
It was like a whisper, a sound carried by the ocean breeze. Come
in, the water's fine, Oh, who said that? Come closer,
I'll show you where the treasure is. I walked into the calmn shores.
The water felt loop warm around my ankles. When I reached my stomach,
it got cold. My toes dug into the sand with anticipation as I walked
further into the sea. As I walked toward the island, suddenly, just
as I was about to take another step, my feet left the floor and
the water reached past my neck. I was so scared, I panicked and
started wheezing. My head bobbed in and out of the water, and my
arms flailed about. I couldn't muster a scream. A wicked laugh filled the
air. The talking man kept whispering. A ghastly chill trailed my spine.
I didn't want the treasure anymore. I just wanted my Mommy. The salty
sea water rushed into my nose, burning my nostrils. The water kept pulling
me in. Almost there, almost on land with the other kids. Elvis,
I heard from a distance. It was mom. Dad had rushed into
the water to go after me while she waited on the shore. Elvis,
take my hand. The man said, you're so close to getting the treasure.
Elvis, take my hand. Elvis, Dad yelled, take my hand.
Everything became a blur. Hey kid, tell your mom, I said.
Ah. Dad managed to grab hold of me and bring me back to
shore, but I passed out before we left the sea. Oh baby,
are you okay? I coughed. I'm fine, Mom, But where is
he? Who the man on the island. Honey, don't be silly,
you were the only one out there. Elvis stood up. No, Mom,
there he is. I still see him. His parents turned around and
saw no one. Maybe the seawater was making their son hallucinate. He said,
I stole his treasure. He's walking to the shore to get it.
Honey, I told you the pirates went home. Remember he's not a pirate,
mom, He's real and he said He's coming for you. He promised.
A promise is a promise. 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