 Welcome to Microterrorz. Scary stories for kids. Where it's always the spooky season. Full of chills. Thrills. And spine-tingling spooks. Microterrorz are family-friendly frights for those ages 8 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 tonight's Microterrorz. Dominion of Dread by Scott Donnelly. There's a monster under my bed. Alex told his parents when he was just 4 years old. They didn't believe him. They said it was his imagination. Just nightmares stemming from something he'd seen on YouTube. Or some weird, dark podcast his father would occasionally play when he thought Alex wasn't listening. Get your monster under my bed! Alex told his parents on the night of his 8th birthday. Again? Alex's father said. His parents rolled their eyes and didn't want to believe that their child had held onto such irrational fear for so long. But it wasn't just again. It was still. Every single night for Alex was consumed by an unshakable terror that gripped him whenever the sun set and the nightlights kicked on all throughout the house. Beneath Alex's bed wasn't just irrational fear like his parents assumed. There was something else there. A malevolent force that tortured each and every single one of his nights. It began when he was only 4 years old. Innocently enough, subtle creaks and cracks on the wooden floors that could have easily been blamed on the old house they lived in just settling over time. Months later, the creaks and cracks were replaced by shadows moving around his room and haunting whispers that he couldn't quite decipher. Most nights, Alex could feel a sinister gaze fixed upon him, watching him try to sleep, studying each of the nervous, anxiety-filled breaths he took. Alex's bedroom had become a dark dominion of dread. But whenever he was able to muster up enough courage to look under the bed, he never saw anything. He'd shine a flashlight when the lights were out. Nothing. He'd look during the day. Nothing. No wonder they don't believe me, Alex thought of his parents. This thing is smart. One night, the ghostly entity seemed to grow bold. Its icy, rotten breath whispered alarming threats into Alex's ear. Its unseen hands, surprisingly smooth and gentle, brushed against his trembling exposed arms and legs. The spirit had ensured that sleeping was no longer an option for Alex. It had burrowed too deeply into his head for that to be a possibility. The terror continued night after night. Unable to sleep, Alex decided to start documenting his experiences and what he felt. He drew images of what he thought the spirit or entity would look like. He made notes that detailed occurrences, times and dates when things were happening. He was out to prove to his parents that his experiences weren't those of an overactive imagination or nightmare and that his nightly horrors had gone on too long. All Alex wanted was one night's sleep. Heck, at this point he wished it were a nightmare. At least that would have meant he was actually falling asleep. Two weeks into Alex's documenting, the spirit took things to a new level. It reached under Alex's blankets, grabbed him by the ankles and yanked him out of bed. As Alex's body smacked the floor, he felt the presence of more than one spirit drift away into the darkness. That was it. Alex had had enough. Forget documenting the experiences. There had to be actual answers as to what was going on, as to who or what was torturing him night after night. The next day, Alex's parents dropped him off at the library at his request. With a stack of books in front of him, he sat in a small, enclosed study room and delved into his town's history. A knock on the glass door made Alex jump. He looked up and saw an elderly man, one of the librarians, standing there. In his grip was an old, dusty book. Alex waved him in. I noticed your interest in Millbrook's history. The old librarian wheezed, pointing to the stack of local history books on the table. Yes, sir, Alex said. You might find this one useful as well. The librarian added. He sat the book down on the table and left Alex to his research. Alex opened the new book, which was so old that he feared it would fall apart as he skimmed through the pages. But that fear quickly dissipated when his focus landed on a specific page, one that featured a sketch of an old house from 1924 on Bedlam Street in Millbrook. That was Alex's street, and that was his house. Alex read the chapter. Many years ago, a family of five lived there. A mother, a father, a daughter, and two sons. A fire broke out, and all five members of the family slept through it. All five of them perished in the blaze. The next day, the charred remains of the house were investigated, and it was determined that the house was intentionally set on fire. Clues found in and around the remains led investigators to a small cult of dark worshippers that operated in the woods nearby. Shockingly, they claimed responsibility, a bizarre belief that the grounds the house stood on were sacred to the dark god they worshipped, and only a sacrificial inferno every 100 years would appease him. Something clicked in Alex's brain, something he hadn't thought of until now, until he had this information. There was never a reason for him to have thought this before. He took the information he had and went home. That night, when the sun set and the night lights kicked on, he lay there awake, just as the spirit, or spirits as he now assumed, wanted him to. They didn't want him to sleep. They wanted him to stay awake, to avoid the same fate that they and their entire family had met. It was a little after midnight when Alex felt the first brush of cold air. He sat up and waited. He saw a shadow cross in front of one of his night lights making it flicker, then heard the creepy, inaudible whispers. I know what happened to you, Alex said, softly enough to not wake his parents who were asleep just down the hall. He felt the room fall still and the air grow increasingly colder as if the spirits were triggered. I know you all burned to death in the fire. I'm sorry for what happened to your family. Alex waited for a response, but the room remained silent and cold. Alex's breath was now coming out in visible puffs that he could see in the dim, flickering nightlight. I know why you're trying to keep me awake. You don't want me and my family to meet the same fate as you and yours, Alex said. Thank you, but that was 100 years ago. The cult is long gone. There is no danger of history repeating itself. Suddenly, an icy gust blew through the room, spinning the ghostly apparition of a young girl at the side of his bed. There is one left. Her small, innocent voice echoed. One last descendant of the cultists. Two more apparitions appeared on either side of her. Two boys, her brothers, all three of them looked sad and concerned. You must leave, one of the boys said. These grounds are sacred to them. He knows you know, the other one said. And he's going to appease their dark god tonight. Alex tried to remain brave, but couldn't hide his nerves. I won't let that happen. If he succeeds, he will forever be... The little girl began before her wispy, fluttering appearance suddenly fell emotionless. The cold air was abruptly sucked out of the room, ushering in an uncomfortable warmth. Alex felt his chest start to tighten up. The ghost children all disappeared, fading away into the darkness. Then, out of nowhere, the flickering nightlight exploded from the outlet. A flame ripped through, climbed up the wall and filled the room with a pulsing orange glow. Alex's heart nearly ripped out of his chest when he saw an old man standing at the foot of his bed, hunched over and smiling at him with a mouth full of crooked teeth and wrinkled to skin. Alex immediately recognized him as the elderly librarian from earlier in the day. It's a shame! The old man wheezed in a sinister tone. The last family slept through their fiery demise. They had no idea what was happening to them. You, on the other hand, are going to feel every raging, smoldering moment because those darn ghost kids kept you awake. You can blame them for every ounce of pain you will feel. I won't let you take us, Alex growled, not like that last family or however many others came before. The old man smiled larger. You're wrong. I will appease the dark god as my ancestors have for centuries and being the last of my bloodline. His satisfaction will guarantee me an eternal place at his side. The fire continued to crawl up the wall, teasing the ceiling where a smoke detector would sound off at any moment. Alex saw the flames growing in intensity and then turned to the old man. He smirked, there's a monster under my bed, Alex said. The old man cocked his head, but not one that I fear. Alex continued, it's one you should fear and it's about to put a damper on your sacrificial inferno. The old man laughed benignly. What are you talking about boy? Alex dropped to the ground and rolled underneath his bed where he'd hit a fire extinguisher earlier in the day after reading about the history of his home. He jumped up on the other side of his bed, pulled the pin, aimed the hose and squeezed the handle. A powerful jet of white foam shot out and blasted the wall. Alex aimed for the outlet first and then ran it up the height of the wall. The old man was stunned. He didn't expect Alex to be one step ahead of him. Even though the old cultist seemed to have supernatural assistance in starting the fire, it was still just fire. Nothing the fire extinguisher wasn't capable of handling and something that the family 100 years ago didn't have the luxury of having. Stop it! The old man snarled. The black smoke from the fire turned gray and quickly rose to the ceiling, setting off the smoke alarm. The alarm screamed and the old man fumed with anger. He climbed over the bed and lunged at Alex. But Alex swung the fire extinguisher, clocking the old man across the face. He stumbled backwards and crashed out the window, falling to the yard below. Alex's parents rushed into the room, panicking and screaming and picking up their son to get him out of the house. When the fire department arrived, the fire chief commended Alex for his bravery and said if it wasn't for his quick thinking with the fire extinguisher, the house would have been completely engulfed in flames within minutes. When the police arrived and saw the old man still laying on the ground outside, they arrested him and charged him with arson after Alex explained what had happened. He left out all the parts that included ghosts, cults and dark gods since the chances of anyone believing him were paper thin. But just knowing the last of the dark worshippers was behind bars, probably for the rest of his life, was enough comfort for him. A month later, Alex and his parents were able to move back into their home after renovations were done to fix the fire damage. The first night back, Alex's bedroom no longer felt like a dominion of dread, but more of a sanctuary of peace. The ghostly presence was gone and he felt relaxed. That night, for the first time in years, Alex slept soundly. Thank you for listening to Microterrorz. Join us each Saturday for another scary story. For more fun, visit our website at microterrorz.com where we will also have spooky games you can print out and play like wicked word searches, mysterious mazes and more. Microterrorz.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 Microterrorz, scary stories for kids. I post videos seven days a week and while you're at it, spread the darkness by sharing this video with someone you know who loves all things strange and macabre. If you want to listen to the podcast, you can find it at weirddarkness.com.