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Welcome to My Crow Terrors.
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Scary stories for kids.
Where it's always the spooky season.
Full of chills.
The rills.
And spuntingling spooks.
Micro terrors are family friendly friends for those ages eight and up.
And while our stories are for younger years,
we are still talking about things that go bugged in the night.
And some children may not be able to handle what others can.
Parental consent is recommended.
Now, fortunately, it's Micro Terror.
Don't take the stairs.
It was about time.
After days of complaining about the strange noises in the woods behind our house,
I was glad that my dad finally decided to check it out.
I don't know why he waited so long,
but that's neither here nor there anymore.
He was finally going to do something about it.
And he let me tag along with him.
Since the weird noises always happened at night,
he didn't think there was an actual threat during the day.
Otherwise, I couldn't see him ever wanting to take me with him.
I heard him tell my mom that the noises sounded like screams
or loud chanting, like something you'd hear at a sporting event.
That gave him the impression that maybe a group of local teenagers
had found a cozy little nook in the woods in which to party or gather together.
He also told her that, on one occasion, the first night of the noises
even saw some sort of red light creeping through the thick of the trees.
I never actually been in these woods before.
Not because I didn't want to trust me, the temptation was always there.
But because my parents said they weren't safe.
Truth was, and now I was seeing it firsthand,
at the woods were very thick.
The trees were large, thorns were wrapped around hanging vines
and sprouting off from bushes.
My dad made me wear jeans and thank God he did.
Otherwise, my legs would have suffered a flurry of cuts and scrapes.
I followed my dad closely, walking the exact same path as he did,
so as to not injure myself on the infinite dangerous present.
On even ground, jagged rocks, the warrants and pricker bushes, snakes and poisonous insects.
Now I wasn't so sure the woods were any safer during the day than they were at night.
Turn around, I heard my dad say from only a few feet ahead of me.
Huh? I questioned, stopping where I was.
My dad stopped as well and faced me.
What? He asked? You told me to turn around.
My dad looked at me and confused and shook his head.
No, I didn't. Oh, what did you say then?
He shook his head again. I didn't say anything.
Oh, my mum bought. I could have sworn I heard him say it.
He turned back around and kept walking, so I kept following him.
We walked another three or four minutes before I asked.
How far in do you think they were?
My dad stopped and put his hands on his hips, scanning the woods before him.
He sighed, "I don't know. Good enough in too far,
where that red light was flashing from, it seemed to kind of shallow.
He looked from side to side before something caught his attention.
He pointed through a thick and above a grove.
There," he said with confidence.
He started to veer off trail.
Not that there was really a trail to begin with.
It was more of an avenue of flattened vegetation.
Maybe from the team, partyers themselves.
I hurried up behind him as he cut through the trees.
Turn around now, Bradley. He said, "As I got closer to him."
What? I asked? Now knowing I heard him. He even used my name.
You looked over his shoulder at me as he continued.
What's wrong?
I grabbed him by the shirt and stopped him.
You said it again. You said to turn around.
My dad just looked at me as I studied mine.
Then he smiled. "Are you playing with me?" he asked.
"Is it supposed to be some kind of April Fool's joke?"
April Fool's, my snapped back.
I have to think if it was April Fool's day.
My smile back.
"You got me?" I said. "Got you with what?"
He genuinely seemed confused.
I could do nothing but goc at him.
What was his game here?
To confuse me?
Make me think I was hearing voices and then blame it on me?
What kind of April Fool's prank was this?
I didn't say anything, Bradley. He said, "I promise.
Why would I tell you to turn around when I asked you to come out here with me?"
I didn't know what to say.
I shrugged and he shrugged back, sort of mockingly.
There's a clearing up here. He said, pointing in the direction he decided to take us.
That's probably ground zero for party-town USA.
Let's check it out.
Together.
I nodded and decided that the awkward back and forth accusations about pranking one another
was better left in the dust.
We kept walking through the brush and between the trees until I heard him laugh.
I knew it. He exclaimed, "Is if he won the lottery, party-town USA.
Where?"
I tried looking past him but couldn't really see anything yet.
Don't take the stairs. He added, "A little less enthusiastic and more grim.
What stairs?" I asked. Still not able to see past him.
My dad looked at me over his shoulders again.
"Huh? What do you mean? What stairs?"
Didn't you just say not to take the stairs?
I aggressively asked. He coming more and more annoyed as each battling minute passed.
He rolled his eyes and kept marching ahead.
I let out in annoyed grunt.
Maybe I will turn around, I said.
This is so annoying.
I stopped myself before saying the rest of the word.
As we crossed through the tree line and into the natural clearing my dad led us to.
We stopped. Both of our jaws dropping in shock at what we saw.
There was a stairway built in the middle of the clearing, leading to nowhere
and surrounded by stones placed about a foot apart from each other.
Remnants of a large bonfire sat off to one side of it.
"Don't take the stairs," my dad said.
"I looked up at him. Why would you know there were stairs here?" he added.
"What? I didn't. You did," I said.
"You told me not to take the stairs. No, I didn't."
He sternly responded. "You knew this was out here. Have you been out here?
No, of course not!" I shouted back.
My dad started to walk toward the stairs and I was quick to reach out and grab him by the shirt.
"Don't," I said. "This whole place is weird in me out, dad."
He pulled away from my grip and continued anyway.
"Maybe it's some kind of art," he said, trying to ward off his nervous confusion by labeling the odd scene with logic.
The closer he got to the stairs, the more anxious I felt.
A jawed after him but stopped halfway, just as he reached the base of the odd structure.
From where I was, I could see the stairs were mostly covered by moss, but the parts that were visible looked like old, warped to wood.
There were no railings or anything at the top of them. No platform, nothing. They literally led to nowhere.
As serious it was, being a work of art, did seem like a logical explanation.
My dad stepped onto the first moss-covered plank. I could hear it creek beneath his weight.
"Dad, don't, it might break!" It's fine. He tried to assure me by pressing his weight down on the first step.
The wood continued to creek and crook under his boots.
If it's someone's art, we don't want to ruin it, right? I pleaded, trying to get him to not go any further.
"I don't think it's art," he said, "see how much moss is covering this thing. It's been here for a while, a long while."
"That it's weak. Please, Dad, I don't want you to get hurt. I won't," he said, looking up the stairs.
"I would have assumed all he could see was the forest canopy and blue sky above us, but the way he stared and tilted his head made me feel like he saw something else."
"What is it?" I asked, "sshhh!" he hushed and then took another step up.
"I scoffed loudly, "Dad, come on!" He didn't listen to me. He just kept ascending the stairs one creaky step at a time.
"I looked to the top where there was nothing. What was his endgame when he got there? He would just have to turn right back around and come down.
"Dad, don't fall from up there!" He didn't respond. He just kept going up.
"As he near the top step, I heard his voice again, but from behind me, I should have listened," he said.
"I gasped and spun around. There was no one there, but his voice continued in the air.
"So please, listen to me. Don't take the stairs. His voice sounded like an echo, beating away as grand light flashed behind me. I quickly turned around and looked at the stairs.
"My dad was gone."
"Did I...did I...did I..."
"I explained, running to the base of the stairs. I looked up and saw nothing but the canopy and blue sky.
"Dad, I shouted again, still with no response. I ran around to the other side of the stairs. It was just a vertical, flat wooden surface that stretched to the top.
"I looked around at the rocks that surrounded the abnormal structure and then to the used bonfire pit.
"What is this?" I screamed, "What is this place?"
"I'm suddenly filled with the sensation that I shouldn't be here. Dread, crept through my body like a lit fuse of dynamite and crescendoed into an explosion of full body chills.
"I heard my dad again telling me to run. "Round." "I heard other voices telling me to run."
"So I ran. I ran through the woods, blasting through the thorn-riddled wilderness, coming my arms and a skin on my face.
"The voices were coming from everywhere as if the woods were alive with the ethos of a hundred distressed clairvoyance.
"The screaming gibberish eventually meshed into a cohesive union all urging the same deterrent.
"Thank you for listening to Mike Roterers. Join us each Saturday for another scary story.
"For more fun visit our website at microterrors.com where we will also have spooky games you can print out and play.
"Like wicked words, searches, mysterious maces and more.
"Microterers.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 Douglas who has other horrors for both young and old.
"I hope you'll join me again soon from microterrors. "Scarry stories for kids.
"Scarry stories for kids. "
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