Speaker 1: 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 Silent Night by Scott Donnelly.
The tree was lit, the stockings were hung, and the
cookies and milk were laid out. Tommy and Jamie were excited.
It was finally Christmas Eve.
Speaker 2: In the morning, they would open presents, play with new
toys and games, laugh and joke and enjoy the time
with their family. Their mother, Beth leaned against the wall
with their arms crossed and a huge smile on her face,
watching the excitement and her children as they talked about
Santa and his reindeer and whether any of the elves
usually accompanied him on his worldwide tour. Their father, Eric
wasn't smiling, though, he wasn't even looking at his kids. Instead,
he leered out the front window threw its frosty sheen
and into the night. He was worried. He was afraid, Dad,
Are you looking for Santa Tommy? Eric turned around quickly. Yeah,
I was just trying to get the lay of the land,
making sure the snow wasn't too deep for him to
set his sleigh down in. But he lands on the roof, Dad,
not the street, not the front yard, Jamie added, with
a curious tilt of her head. Eric cleared his throat nervously.
That's right, what was I thinking? Beth watched as Eric
became more nervous and fidgety. Kids, Why don't you both
go get your teeth brushed. We'll be up to tuck
you in soon. Tommy and Jamie rushed off, more than
thrilled to keep the night moving along as it needed
to in order for Christmas morning to arrive. Beth joined
Eric at the window. What's wrong? You look sick, she said,
I'm not sick. He whispered, I'm We couldn't find the
right words. Remember that story I told you about when
I was a young boy, those carollers that came to
our house on Christmas Eve. Beth remembered the story. She'd
heard it a few times since they'd been together. But
it wasn't just about Carollers. It was the story of
how Eric's father went missing and was never seen again.
I remember, Beth said. Eric looked at her as if
she should know some other fact, but she was drawing
a blank. What she asked, do you remember how old
my dad was? Beth thought for a moment, forty bengo.
Eric said, and now I'm forty. Beth laughed. So so
that's when they come. Our family's been chosen for some reason,
and every time a man in our family turns forty,
the Carollers come to claim them as part of the group.
That happened to my dad, He said, it happened to
his dad. I'm sure it goes back even further. Beth
shook her head. You know, it sounds ridiculous, though, right,
How could the scene group of Carollers keep showing up
to take people. They'd be hundreds of years old. If
everything you're claiming is true, they're ghosts, Beth. Ghosts don't age.
Once they claim you, you also become one. And I'm
worried that if Eric choked up, if what Beth asked, that,
if I'm taken to night, that one day, many years
from now, I'll be back with the carollers to claim
Tommy as part of the group. Beth rolled her eyes.
It's not true. I don't know what happened to your
dad that night, but he wasn't taken by ghost carollers. Now,
let's get the kids to bed. I don't want to
ruin their Christmas Eve. They want Santa, not ghosts. Eric
took a deep breath and one last look out through
the frosted front window before following Beth upstairs. It was
a little after midnight when the icy winds outside picked up.
The house shutters rattled, the cold breeze howled through the
bare trees and yard, and that's what Eric woke up
with a gasp. He sat up in bed, listening to
the wind outside and then slicing through its haunting din
was the sound he'd been dreading. It started off quiet,
almost impossible to hear over the wind, but then it
grew louder and more prominent. It was silent night being
sung by a chorus of men. Their voices were all
hollow and ghostly. Eric jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs,
wrapping his bathrobe around him and tying it tight, He
unlocked the front door and slowly opened it. The wind
had stopped suddenly, but the haunting song continued. Standing out
in the front yard in a neat and organized line
were the ghosts of nearly a dozen men. They were wispy, translucent,
and all caroling the same song in unison, silent night.
To the far right end of the line, Eric recognized
the ghostly figure singing. It was his own father, Dad.
Eric shouted, rushing out of the house and into the
snowy yard. His dad stopped singing, the only one to stop,
and slowly faced his son. When I joined the group.
Speaker 1: I took comfort in knowing that I would at least see.
Speaker 2: You again one day, his dad said, in a hollow, echoing,
ghostly voice. Eric didn't respond. He wanted to cry. It
had been so long and that days now, his dad continued,
you're finally old enough to join our caroling group. Eric
looked up and down the line of men, generations of
his own family. How Eric wondered why his dad spurked
like it was now an inside joke amongst the ghosts.
Long ago, someone made the wrong decision. That decision greeded
a domino effect that led to a curse being placed
on our family. Eric looked all the way down the line,
the man at the very far end of it, the
beginning of it. That man, someone dressed as if they
were from colonial times, leaned forward out of line and
shrugged in a way that solely placed the guilt and
blame of the curse entirely on him. Whoops, he mouthed.
But Eric's dad continued, what's done is done. We could
only move forward and continue what we have to do.
Join my side, son, Eric shook his head. No, I can't.
I have a family. I'm afraid that won't help you, son,
his dad said. Eric looked down at his body. It
was wispy and translucent, and now he had a sudden
urge to sing Silent Night along with the others.
Speaker 1: Can I at.
Speaker 2: Least sing it by to them, Eric asked, his voice
taking on a ghostly echo. I'm afraid not, his dad said.
But one day least see your son again and we'll
be able to add yet another brilliant voice to the caroline.
Eric accepted his fate and began to sing Silent Night
along with the others. Their voices and bodies vanished into
the cold Christmas night. Sound asleep in his warm bed,
Tommy smiled as he dreamed about sugar plums and Christmas presents.
He was safe.
Speaker 1: For now.
Speaker 2: Thank you to all of you listeners for making this
last year at micro terror as a true joy and privilege.
I'm your narrator, Daron Marler, Scott Donnelly, and I feel
so blessed that you come back week after week to
listen to these creepy tales that we have so much
fun creating. As we're heading into the month of December,
we're going to take a short break to celebrate the
holidays with our friends and family, as well as come
up with some brand new stories to share with you
in the new year. Before we return in January. Please
tell your friends about micro Terrors so they can listen
with you in the new year. Maybe tell them about
some of your favorite episodes so far. For now, I'll
just say once again, thank you for listening, and we
hope you have a very merry Christmas. I'm not gonna
sing Silent Night anymore though that song kind of creeps
me out now.
Speaker 1: 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 you can get the
latest micro Terrors news, read fun facts about each story,
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micro Terrors writer and creator Scott Donnelly. You can also
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I hope you'll join us again soon for micro Terrors
scary stories for kids