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. In the Wake of the
Dragon's Breath, Part three by Scott Donnelly, 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 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 emerald. 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, Doba 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
slope 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 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. Doma 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. A cross miston
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 in 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, staffed 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. K 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 he could have been capable of cutting through anything. Out of
options, I picked it up and wielded it as my new weapon. I
gripped 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 swam. 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 the 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, 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 bowlin.
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. Men 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 ore 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, 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