(TRANSCRIPT) “THE NIBBLER” by Scott Donnelly #MicroTerrors

Listen to ““THE NIBBLER” by Scott Donnelly #MicroTerrors” on Spreaker.

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 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 MICRO TERROR!!!!

It was spring when it started. The air outside was no longer cold and bitter, but now warm and refreshing. Taking deep breaths outside was like having new life run through your body. And warmer weather meant that I was no longer restricted to lethargic indoor activities like video games and movies. To celebrate our release back into the outside world, my sister and I went to the park near our house.
That was where I first experienced The Nibbler.
There was a pond at the park which most people used for fishing. It was nothing too big and was mostly filled with just bluegills. We didn’t have our fishing poles with us, so instead, we decided to just sit on the rocks that surrounded the pond. We took off our shoes and socks and let our feet dangle in the water.
“It’s cold,” my sister said. I didn’t know what she expected; it might have been spring, but the water hadn’t recovered from the harsh winter we’d just been through.
“It’s not that bad,” I said, acting bigger and braver than her. “If it’s not that bad, then go in further,” she insisted.
“I don’t have a change of clothes!”
“Chicken,” she laughed and then obnoxiously clucked at me with flapping arms. I couldn’t let her get away with that.
“Fine, I’ll show you who the chicken is.”
I rolled my pant legs up around my knees and waded into the pond. The water was cold, there was no denying that. I went in further until the pond water just touched my bunched up pant legs.
“Who’s the chicken now!?” I shouted back to her from about ten feet away. That’s when I felt something graze my leg beneath the murky water. At first it just brushed up against me, but then I felt it touch me and press into my calf. I felt the uncomfortable feeling of suction next, like a fish nibbling on my skin. I quickly pulled away, but then whatever was beneath the surface grabbed my leg, wrapped what felt like slimy fingers around my ankle and then sucked harder on my calf.
“Help!” I screamed. I yanked my leg with more urgency and finally broke free from its grip. I thrashed through the water and back to my sister who was now standing and concerned.
“What happened?” she asked.
I looked back out into the pond as it settled back into stillness. A nauseating chill shot through my body.
A week later, I still couldn’t get the incident off my mind. Everywhere I went I thought that I felt it again; like the feeling you get when you think there’s a bug on you but there really isn’t. I refused to take a bath, settling on showers instead, out of fear that something in the bath water would grab me. Deep down I knew that was a ridiculous thought since I could see right through the bath water, unlike that murky pond. But, no one ever said fear was rational.
We all sat around the dinner table; my mom, dad, sister and I. It was pizza night, so naturally everyone was in a good mood. Even my mind had been distracted by the dad joke my dad let slip:
“What did the pizza say when it went out on a date? …I never sausage a beautiful face!”
My mom and sister were laughing too; milk even came out of my mom’s nose, which I knew she must have been embarrassed by.
I was on my third piece of pizza when I felt something soft and wet slide up my leg. I immediately froze, feeling it ascend from my ankle to just below my knee. Suddenly, I pushed my chair back and looked under the table.
I saw nothing.
If we had owned a dog, it was something that could have been easily explained. But we didn’t. We never had.
“What’s wrong?” my dad asked me, his next bite of pizza hovering barely an inch away from his mouth. “My jokes aren’t that bad, are they?”
I didn’t know what to say to him. I looked to my mom and sister next; they both shared a genuine look of concern. It took her a moment, but I could tell my sister started to think of the incident at the pond a week earlier. She pushed her chair back as well and looked under the table.
My mom looked at her next. “What’s wrong?” she asked. My sister popped back up and looked at me. I knew she wouldn’t have seen anything. It was just like the last time. I had no proof.
But something was messing with me. Something grabbed my leg in the pond. Something licked my leg under the dinner table. I wasn’t one to believe in anything supernatural, so did that mean I was going crazy?
That was the question I would ask myself daily for the rest of the spring and throughout the summer. I dreaded that wet, slimy touch every single day. I never knew if, or when, it was going to happen next. And after several months with nothing, I finally started to feel a sense of relief. Maybe they were unexplained panic attacks. Maybe they were all in my head after all. But it felt so real.
After I put up a mental barrier, blocking the thought of it for those next few months, a serious false sense of security took hold. I didn’t think about it anymore.
And that’s exactly what it was waiting for…
The night before the start of the school year, I’d gone to bed early. I wasn’t one to normally get excited for school, but I was this year. I was going into middle school. I was going to have class changes, a locker — all the things you’d see in the movies. I was actually really excited.
I had fallen asleep, but woke up an hour later. I thought I heard something moving in my room. I turned on my bedside lamp and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place, but I did feel warm. I lifted the window sash a couple of inches to let the early autumn breeze come in and cool me down. I returned to bed and was asleep again within minutes.
The sounds of the light wind through the trees and the chirping crickets outside joined me in my dreamstate. It was comforting; soothing. Then I felt something touch my hand.
I felt the wet slide of the tongue again. I felt the slimy fingers wrap around my forearm and pull me closer. I felt needle-point teeth start to gently nibble on my fingers. I yanked my arm away, scratching myself as I did so.
“Stop it!” I screamed. I opened my eyes and it was pitch dark. I could only hear the crickets and breeze from outside. That thing had entered my dream.
After so long of not thinking about it, it was back. I looked around and was unnerved by how dark it actually was. I mean, I couldn’t even see the street light from outside coming through the window. I looked to my right, to where my digital alarm clock was, but couldn’t see the little blue numbers. It was almost like I hadn’t even opened my eyes. I tried to sit up in bed, but was met by the surreal feeling that I was already standing.
I started to panic. What was going on? I reached out in front of me and felt a door. I fumbled around until I found a knob. Where was I? I turned the knob and opened the door.
My heart stopped and I felt numb with fear at what was before me. I was standing in my room, mere feet away from my bed where I saw…myself…still asleep. My arm was draped off the bed, and some…thing…was knelt down beside it, gently nibbling on my fingers. The thing was mostly humanoid in its appearance, but pale white and covered by sporadic clumps of sharp bristles. On its knees, its unnaturally long legs stretched nearly the length of the room. I could hear the wet noises it made as it chewed on my fingers.
“Hey!” I tried to scream at it, but my voice seemed to evaporate before it reached the thing…the Nibbler. I looked at my arm, to where I had been scratched, but didn’t see anything. This all started to feel like a dream. And if it was a dream, which version of me was asleep?
“Wake up!” I screamed, my voice fading away again. The creature seemed bothered by something and made a grunting, gurgling noise.
“Wake up!” I yelled again.
“Honey, wake up! Wake up!” I heard my mom’s voice yelling. I opened my eyes again and found myself laying in bed with my arm hanging off the side. My bedside lamp was on and my mom was hovering over me. I sat up quickly, out of breath and sweating.
“Are you okay?” she asked me. I wasn’t sure what to say. I had certainly had a nightmare. But it felt so real, almost like I was more conscious within the dream than in reality.
“What happened to your arm?” she asked.
I looked at my arm; the one that had been hanging off the bed. There was a fresh scratch that ran from my wrist to the middle of my forearm. I looked up at my mom, unable to form the words to tell her.
That’s when I saw something behind her, out in the hallway. It was mostly veiled by the shadows, but I knew what it was. It was The Nibbler. It stood within the doorframe; its lanky limbs wobbling beneath it and at its sides. It lifted one of its hands and put a finger to its thin, pale lips. Its eyes squinted, influenced by a tooth-filled smile.
“Shhh…” it purred, just as innocently as the breeze coming through my open window.

Thank you for listening to Micro Terrors!!! Join us each Saturday for another scary story! For more fun, visit our website at MicroTerrors.com where we also have spooky games you can print out and play — like wicked word searches, mysterious mazes, and more! MicroTerrors.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 Micro Terrors: Scary Stories for Kids!

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