Speaker 1: No No, No No, Anna, Michael Cars, Michael Cares.
Speaker 2: This is a special listener Terrors episode. The stories sent
in by you are likely terror listeners. Send in your
own story at michneyterrors dot com. 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 friends for those 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 he is recommended now. Forts of Knights micro Terror.
Speaker 1: The Pirate by Cad Bloomquist, age five. Jake went to
bed early that night. He had school the next day
and he needed good sleep. In the middle of the night,
he heard a thumping sound that woke him up. It
sounded like it was coming slowly up his stairs toward
his bedroom, one step at a time. He thought maybe
he was imagining the sound, so he went to his
door to open it up and looked down the hallway
toward the stairs. Emerging toward the top of the steps
was a dirt, smelly and vicious looking pirate. He smiled
at Jake with a grin full of yellow, decaying teeth
and started to walk with his peg leg up the
final stairs. Jake realized the thumping sound he had heard
was the wooden peg leg. Jake was paralyzed with fear
and couldn't move a muscle. The pirate drew out his
curved sword from its sheath at his waist, took a
final step so that he towered above Jake, and whispered
with a horrifyingly frightening, raspy voice, urg good thing, I
got to you before you woke up. Then he raised
the sword over his head and slashed down towards Jake.
Right before the sword touched Jake, he felt the pain
of his body, rolling off his bed in his covers
and landing with a thump onto his dark bedroom floor.
He gasped looked around his room while covered in sweat,
trying to anticipate where the horrible pirate may be. But
then he realized he woke up from his meaning. The
pirate was his imagination running wild, probably due to this
scary pirate movie his friends and he watched that night
at the local movie theater. Well that's a relief, Jake
said softly, as he grabbed his comforter and got back
into his bed. He smiled and breathed deeply as his
head fell softly upon his pillow and was almost falling
back into a slumber when he once again for the
pirate's wooden peg leg begin to thump up the stairs,
one after another after another. The Ghost Wolf by Ozell
Cruz Age eight. The following is a true story. It
happened during the summer of twenty twenty four. It was
evening in hot, humid Honduras. Even though it was usually
warm in the evening, it could be quite cool. It
was a beautiful climate, with towering trees and colorful flowers
in the high mountain cloud forest.
Speaker 2: I loved it.
Speaker 1: I was visiting my grandparents for the summer with my family,
and my dad and I went for a short walk.
Soon after we had left my grandparents house, I suddenly
felt colder. One of my grandparents dogs, Kazin, followed us.
I looked around me. I saw the small shop that
sold the best crisps. We carried on walking. I turned
my head to look at the field. It was huge
and there were two goals for football. I remembered how
my dad had dragged me along. Now though I was
enjoying myself. We didn't say much, just things like it's
really pretty here. We walked some more and stopped. It
was a lot mistier now and darker, a lot, a
lot darker. I jogged, not because I was scared, but
because I was cold, really really cold. Then I felt odd,
like there were loads of ants on me. I shook
it off, thinking it was just one of the effects
of the mysterious environment. My dad and I chatted about Honduras.
Casan patted along with us. He brushed next to me.
It was comforting and warm. Then we saw it, well,
at least I saw it. I'm not sure about my dad.
It was a giant, stony gray wolf that blended in
with the mist for some reason. At first I thought
it was Kasan. I would have laughed if it hadn't
been so weird. I couldn't see its eyes or the
separation between its jaws. On the bottom of its curved tail,
I saw clumps of matted fur. Its nose was a
lot darker. For some unknown reason, it did not look
like a physical threat. Terror and confusion washed over me.
Bewilderment crumpled my dad's face. My heart hammered so quickly.
Then the wolf thing, the ghost wolf, bent its head,
It sniffed the ground, raised its head and moved as
cautiously as a squirrel near a fox. It trotted up
a small hill and faded away into the mist. Daddy,
did you see that, I asked, Yeah, he answered quietly.
We ran back to my grandparents' house. I told my
mom what happened. I told my sister what happened. The
image of what happened that day will be etched into
my brain forever.
Speaker 2: This is fenly special listener Terrors episode my Stories, sent
him by you likely terror listeners. Thank you for listening
to micro Terrors. Join us each Saturday for another scary story.
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