 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 ears, 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. Halloween Night of the Living Dead Part 1 Exhumed It began like any other Halloween day. The weather was brisk, the sun was out, although not providing much heat. It was basically there as a reminder that it was still daytime. And if the quaint little village of Holman, Ohio had any clue at all as to the terror that was about to rain down on them, they would have prayed the sun had never set that fateful Halloween. Holman could barely be categorized as a village. It was more of a small stretch of road with very few houses and a couple of small shops to keep their population of only 30 afloat. Holman was located far out in the countryside, away from big cities, any form of entertainment and, well, civilization in general. Holman was literally put on the map by a small congregation of workers back in the early 1900s as just a basic camp while they installed the Holman West Cemetery, a graveyard whose entire aura was a thing of nightmares. The most violent and wicked of criminals were buried there. No one else wanted them in their grounds, so an isolated cemetery out in the country, one that became known as Holman West Cemetery, was constructed and the vicious criminals were laid to rest beneath an old maple orchard. Across from the gated iron-fenced resting grounds was the camp. With only a few small dwellings to begin, it grew into the small stretch of road it is today. Descendants of the workers and constructors who put Holman on the map are the ones who live there today. Their lineage, feeling drawn to the land, they helped build and decided to call it home. And today, in one of those homes across from the Holman West Cemetery, lives a boy named Peter Dixon and his parents, George and Barbara. George and Barbara are sitting in the living room with the dull lights on their end tables, leaving the living room a soft luster after the sun had set and the moon rose. An old black-and-white horror film flickered on the television, supplying more light in the room than either of the two lamps. Peter crossed through the living room after grabbing a cold piece of pizza left over from their dinner and recognized the movie on the television immediately, Attack of the Crabmonsters, one of his favorites. While most kids his age were obsessed over modern horror films like A Quiet Place, Trained to Busan and The Black Phone, Peter was more of an admirer of the B-movie classics, Crabmonsters, Plan 9 from Outer Space, The Tingler. These were his entertainment compulsions. In fact, he had posters for all of these movies and more hanging in his room. Peter sat down on the couch between his parents as his favorite part of the movie played out. A team of scientists enter a mysterious cave and the giant mutant crab emerges from the darkness for the first time. Gunfire and terror ensued, along with some of the all-time cheesiest monster effects. It was glorious. The movie abruptly cut out, bringing up the graphics of a breaking news segment in its place. A man behind a news desk shuffled papers in front of him, cleared his throat and looked directly into the eyes of Peter, George and Barbara. I'm Jeffrey Trent with an urgent bulletin from Ohio State officials in conjunction with the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. The anomaly tracked only days ago entering our galaxy. What officials are referring to as a cosmic pulse may in fact make contact with our planet within the hour. A NASA spokesman says the cosmic pulse, or rapidly moving a radio wave, currently poses no threat to civilians, but warrants of electronic disturbances and rolling blackouts. An Ohio State official says the most likely places affected are those on the outskirts of larger cities or isolated areas with older forms of technological capabilities. We will keep you updated as more information is available. For now, we return you to your regular programming. Attack of the crab monsters burst back onto the screen and George, complete with an ornery smirk, began to hum, R-E-M's, It's the end of the world as we know it. It's the end of the world as we know it, funny. Peter said, taking a giant bite of the cold pizza from Fazzini's, I heard that pulse came from a planet called Quasar, Barbara said. Peter laughed mockingly at his mom. Quasar's not a planet, mom. It's the origin of the radio wave from deep space. Barbara crossed her arms and stared at the television. Well, it sounds like bad news to me. Peter's phone rang in his pocket. Looking at the screen, he saw the face of his friend, Sean Rhodes, sticking his tongue out with his eyelids rolled inside out. The photo always made him laugh, as disgusting as Sean's patented trick was. But that was the nonsensical life of a 12-year-old wrapped up in one frozen instant. Peter scarfed the rest of his pizza as he hopped up from the couch and rushed up the stairs to answer Sean's call. He entered his room and shut the door. Surrounded on all four sides by the vintage artwork of 50s and 60s science fiction and horror, he answered the phone. Talk to me eyeballs, Peter said. Uh, eyeballs? Sean said on the other line. Then he remembered. Oh, that stupid picture is still my incoming call image. Peter laughed. Hey, it's a brilliant photo. He said, sure to impress someone someday. Seems to have impressed you. Sean laughed. Just wanted to let you know crab monsters is on. I know what your favorite. Yeah. I saw that. Thanks. Did you see that breaking news or urgent bulletin as the news guy called it? About the cosmic pulse thing? Yeah. Sean said. Kind of crazy. My mom thinks it's bad news. The only bad thing would be if it interrupts crab monsters. Sean said. Peter laughed. Yeah, well, good thing I've seen it a thousand times. Where Peter expected to laugh or even just a chuckle from his friend was nothing. Silence was now on the other end of the call. Sean, you there, buddy? Nothing. Peter pulled the phone away and saw the black screen. He tapped it and pressed the buttons on the side. Still nothing. The phone had died. It made no sense. Peter smirked and so struck the devastating the horrible blood curdling cosmic pulse. He joked to himself, trying to sound like an old school horror host. Then something outside his window caught his attention. There were bright blue flashes synced with quick, thrumping sounds and rapid succession. They were blinding like the brightest bolts of lightning Peter had ever seen. He put his hand over his eyes to shield them from the flashes as he made his way to his bedroom window. Pulling the curtains apart, he looked outside just as the mysterious flashes stopped. He scanned the street, the neighbor's house, and then the sky which was clear of any clouds and only contained the full bright Halloween moon. Cosmic pulse, he said to himself, not completely writing enough this time. Suddenly the power went out, filling his house with silence. The rest of Holman also fell into darkness. Stillness. Peter, are you okay? George called from downstairs. Yeah! Peter responded. His eyes still glued to the dark, eerie landscape outside. He looked across the street to where the Holman West Cemetery sat behind its protective iron gates, tombstones rolling up and down within its hills. For the first time, the cemetery gave Peter the creeps. A slow chill made its way down his spine, eventually branching off in a sea of goose bumps on his arms and neck. Another sudden flash came from the sky, lightning cracked through it and struck the cemetery. A flushing glow of blue mist covered the sacred grounds before sinking into the earth. Peter was stunned. He'd never witnessed such an event, such a bizarre occurrence. The last trickle of lightning receded into the sky and all fell silent and still again. The moonlight reflected off a soft white layer of fog that rose in the cemetery. Whispy and elegant, it swayed in place between the gravestones, monuments and mausoleum in the distance. Peter's bedroom door opened in a hurry as father and mother rushing in. What on earth was that? Barbara exclaimed, gripping her husband's sleeve. Peter turned to his parents. The cosmic pulse, he said, had to be. What else could that have been? George raced to the bedroom window and looked out. He scanned the street. People had emerged from their homes. Confusion was kicking in. Panic would be next. We should go check on the neighbors. Jim, Selena, Sean and his dad. George said, someone might need help. George glanced at Holman West Cemetery next. He saw the fog and then he saw movement within it. They began as shadows lumbering through the mist, but the more George watched, he could tell they were people. There's a bunch of people in the cemetery, he said. Something's happening. He pulled away from Barbara and went for the door. George, wait! She said. He stopped in the door frame, only lit by the moonlight from outside. I'm going to see what's happening. Then I'll come back to get you, Barbara. You and Peter. I'll be right back. George was gone. Barbara and Peter remained in the bedroom. George ignited a flashlight and left his house. Outside he was met by the neighbors, Jim and Selena. What's going on? George asked them. They joined his side, both of them just as confused as he was. Not sure, Jim said. He pointed across the street, lightened and struck the cemetery. There's a weird glow and then this strange fog. George followed Jim's direction, still seeing the slow-moving figures staggering around beyond the gates. Looks like some people already went in to investigate then. No, Jim said. We were out on the porch enjoying the weather when it happened. We didn't see anyone go in there. They just appeared. George gawked at these shadowy figures again. Who are they? He asked. Neither Jim nor Selena had an answer. It was like the mysterious figures appeared out of thin air or possibly even the fog itself. Want to come with me? George asked. Jim puffed up his chest and took a step toward George, but Selena was quick to stop him. You're not going anywhere, she commanded. It's Halloween night and you're wanting to go stomping around a foggy graveyard to investigate shadows? I have seen enough scary movies too. It's fine, George said, putting his hand up to stop her. As much as their interruption annoyed him, George didn't need anyone to go with him anyways. I'll be back in a minute, he said, before jogging across the street and up to the gates of Holman West Cemetery. What started off as a normal Halloween evening, winding down after trick-or-treating, having a few slices of pizza from Fazzini's and watching bad movies on television, had now taken a more bizarre turn. As George peered between the iron bars of the cemetery, he suddenly felt like he was in one of those bad movies. Strangeness abound, confusion among the peasants, he thought, as he was hit with the notion that maybe these mysterious figures wandering through the cemetery should be handled by the authorities. Deputy Eros was only a quarter of a mile away on the other side of Holman. Surely he was wise to what was going on, surely he'd be arriving momentarily. Just then a hand shot through the fog and through the gates, grabbing George by the neck and cutting off his ability to scream. His eyes went wide as he saw the face of his mysterious attacker slowly materialized through the wispy haze, covered with rotting, brown flesh hanging from its exposed skull. Its eye sockets were vacant, their deep cavities only filled by shadows. It opened its mouth, moaning mournfully as the last of its teeth fell out and pittered on the tips of George's shoes. George struggled, trying to pull away from the crazed thing, but as weak and frail as it appeared, it held a strong grip on him. George couldn't believe what was happening. This was like an old movie. It was like the ones where the dead rise from the ground. Zombies! George wheezed within the creature's ever-clamping grasp. And if George knew zombies like he thought he did, he knew what they were capable of. They bite. They infect. They recruited that way. That's how they grew in numbers. In the movies, a single zombie was one thing, but a horde of the undead was an entirely different beast, one that always kickstarted the end of the world. And just as George thought all of this, dozens more of the undead took shape behind the iron gates of Holman West Cemetery. He was frozen in fear, too distracted by the sickening sight to notice his right arm being pulled through the gates and bitten by one of them. George wanted to scream. He wanted to warn his family, his neighbors, but he couldn't. The pain surfaced in his arm. It stung at first, then went numb. His entire body throbbed after that as the infection spread. His vision went black. His body shut down and smacked the earth. George was dead. Then he opened his eyes. Tune in next week for part two of our four week Microterrorist Halloween event, Halloween Night of the Living Dead. Thank you for listening to Microterrorist. Join us each Saturday for another scary story. For more fun, visit our website at microterrorist.com where we will also have spooky games you can print out and play, like wicked word searches, mysterious mazes, and more. Microterrorist.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 Microterrorist Scary Stories for Kids.