Starting out, these horror stories wouldn't come from twisted ideas and experiences, but from asking people for random words and merging them together into something weird and dark. Previously, I'd even turned to A.I. randomly generated plots, going with the ones that made the least amount of sense and running with it. Today, I decided to turn back to that, mixing a bunch of random things together and making something dark out of it. This story was made using 2 words: Edible Febreze.
"Are you tired of boring air fresheners that taste like garbage? Are you sick of good smelling air and only getting hungrier? We have what you need! Introducing, Breez-E-Treats! Now you can get full off the delicious smell of the air! Available wherever you buy groceries," I could hear the advertisement nearly screaming at me and my kids as they ate their cereal. One glance at my son, Jeremy, told me he was about to ask for some.
"Mom, can I get some of the Breez-E-Treats cans?" he asked, his chin dripping milk. He immediately wiped it away but continued watching me to see if I'd say yes.
I was about to respond when my husband stepped in, "I'm sorry but I'm not wasting my money on a can of air."
"But dad, everyone is trying it," he pleaded.
My husband sighed for a second before responding. "I'll tell you what, if you behave on our road trip, I'll buy you a can on the way back home."
Jeremy seemed excited about that. He turned back to his bowl and continued to scarf down his cereal. As they continued to eat, I heard some strange popping sounds coming from outside. I peeked out the kitchen window and noticed a handful of people surrounding a spot of what looked like blood on the sidewalk across the street. There were too many people out there to tell what had happened, but I could see at least one person with their face buried in their hands like they were crying. What the hell was going on out there?
Any ideas I had as to what may have happened caused me to look away, as not to overthink it. There were enough people over there to handle what was going on anyways. Looking back to my family, none of them seemed concerned, so we carried on our morning as usual.
After we'd finished up with breakfast, we gathered up our bags and threw them in the back of the car. We then finished getting ready before getting in the car and heading out. About ten minutes down the road, I turned to my husband, who was behind the wheel. "Do we have any marshmallows and chocolate for smores for when we go camping tonight?" Following my question, he shot me a concerned glance before turning his eyes back to the road. "That's okay, we can stop at the next gas station and grab some."
It didn't take much time before we arrived at the gas station at the very edge of town. I got out of the car and decided to take Jeremy and his sister, Heather, inside, just in case they wanted something to snack on while we were on the road. They followed pretty close behind me as I made my way to the snack aisle. I grabbed a decent sized bag of marshmallows, some chocolate bars, and graham crackers, just to be safe. I turned back around to head to the register, but my heart nearly stopped when I didn't see my kids behind me.
Panicked, I checked down every aisle I could see. They might be by the sodas, trying to find a drink. I called out for them. I could hear distant giggling as a response. It had to be them. I turned the corner to the final aisle, closest to the cash register and there they were, standing with their snacks on the counter. I took a deep breath and approached them, glaring. I put my food on the counter, paid, and scolded them all the way back to the car.
"What happened in there?" my husband asked.
"Our kids thought it would be funny to run off in the store and scare me half to death," I replied, glaring back at them. "Thank god some stranger didn't come by and snatch you guys up."
With that, our kids remained silent for the next hour as we sped past several towns on our way to the campgrounds. After so long of the silence, my husband turned up the music on the radio and found a song we all enjoyed. He nudged me to try and get me to sing along. Eventually, I caved and our kids stepped in and sang along as well. I loved it when our family could be having fun like this. Maybe I was being too harsh on our kids. As the song neared its end, I could hear a faint hissing sound. My husband and I exchanged glances.
"Please tell me that isn't a flat tire," I heard him say as he pulled onto the side of the road. We both got out and checked the gauges on the tires. Thankfully, it was a false alarm, as all the tires were fine. Maybe the hissing was some radio static, I thought.
As we got back in the car, something smelled odd. I opened my mouth to talk and it was like I could taste the air and swallow it like it was food. It tasted cheesy, like the dust you lick off your fingers after you eat a bag of chips. I turned to my kids and saw Jeremy trying to hide what looked like a can of Febreze. I told him to give it to me and he began to hand it over, spraying the can by accident as he did so, releasing even more of the cheese air. I took the can and threw it out the window. How the hell did he even get this?
Finally, we got back on the road. I scalded Jeremy about the can and Heather ratted him out about stealing the can at the gas station. Jeremy and Heather began to fight but I yelled and broke it up. It was pretty silent for the next couple minutes. I was debating about just calling this whole thing off if my kids can't behave.
My husband couldn't take the silence, because he turned on the radio and turned it up. There was no music, but instead there was some kind of a news report.
"Breez-E-Treats are currently being recalled after disaster after disaster has been reported, linking exploding people to the consumption of the edible air," the reported went on. I could feel a pit forming in my stomach. "We are urging everyone to stop eating the air in a can and throw it out immediately. There is no clear connection to how it is making people explode, only for some it happens shortly after consuming it. If you feel bloated or sick after eating it, we urge you to go to the hospital immediately and seek medical attention."
My husband and I exchanged worried glances before turning to our kids.
"Mommy, what does that mean?" Jeremy asked, his voice shaking with fear.
Then, there was a loud popping sound coming from the backseat. It got our kids.
"Are you tired of boring air fresheners that taste like garbage? Are you sick of good smelling air and only getting hungrier? We have what you need! Introducing, Breez-E-Treats! Now you can get full off the delicious smell of the air! Available wherever you buy groceries," I could hear the advertisement nearly screaming at me and my kids as they ate their cereal. One glance at my son, Jeremy, told me he was about to ask for some.
"Mom, can I get some of the Breez-E-Treats cans?" he asked, his chin dripping milk. He immediately wiped it away but continued watching me to see if I'd say yes.
I was about to respond when my husband stepped in, "I'm sorry but I'm not wasting my money on a can of air."
"But dad, everyone is trying it," he pleaded.
My husband sighed for a second before responding. "I'll tell you what, if you behave on our road trip, I'll buy you a can on the way back home."
Jeremy seemed excited about that. He turned back to his bowl and continued to scarf down his cereal. As they continued to eat, I heard some strange popping sounds coming from outside. I peeked out the kitchen window and noticed a handful of people surrounding a spot of what looked like blood on the sidewalk across the street. There were too many people out there to tell what had happened, but I could see at least one person with their face buried in their hands like they were crying. What the hell was going on out there?
Any ideas I had as to what may have happened caused me to look away, as not to overthink it. There were enough people over there to handle what was going on anyways. Looking back to my family, none of them seemed concerned, so we carried on our morning as usual.
After we'd finished up with breakfast, we gathered up our bags and threw them in the back of the car. We then finished getting ready before getting in the car and heading out. About ten minutes down the road, I turned to my husband, who was behind the wheel. "Do we have any marshmallows and chocolate for smores for when we go camping tonight?" Following my question, he shot me a concerned glance before turning his eyes back to the road. "That's okay, we can stop at the next gas station and grab some."
It didn't take much time before we arrived at the gas station at the very edge of town. I got out of the car and decided to take Jeremy and his sister, Heather, inside, just in case they wanted something to snack on while we were on the road. They followed pretty close behind me as I made my way to the snack aisle. I grabbed a decent sized bag of marshmallows, some chocolate bars, and graham crackers, just to be safe. I turned back around to head to the register, but my heart nearly stopped when I didn't see my kids behind me.
Panicked, I checked down every aisle I could see. They might be by the sodas, trying to find a drink. I called out for them. I could hear distant giggling as a response. It had to be them. I turned the corner to the final aisle, closest to the cash register and there they were, standing with their snacks on the counter. I took a deep breath and approached them, glaring. I put my food on the counter, paid, and scolded them all the way back to the car.
"What happened in there?" my husband asked.
"Our kids thought it would be funny to run off in the store and scare me half to death," I replied, glaring back at them. "Thank god some stranger didn't come by and snatch you guys up."
With that, our kids remained silent for the next hour as we sped past several towns on our way to the campgrounds. After so long of the silence, my husband turned up the music on the radio and found a song we all enjoyed. He nudged me to try and get me to sing along. Eventually, I caved and our kids stepped in and sang along as well. I loved it when our family could be having fun like this. Maybe I was being too harsh on our kids. As the song neared its end, I could hear a faint hissing sound. My husband and I exchanged glances.
"Please tell me that isn't a flat tire," I heard him say as he pulled onto the side of the road. We both got out and checked the gauges on the tires. Thankfully, it was a false alarm, as all the tires were fine. Maybe the hissing was some radio static, I thought.
As we got back in the car, something smelled odd. I opened my mouth to talk and it was like I could taste the air and swallow it like it was food. It tasted cheesy, like the dust you lick off your fingers after you eat a bag of chips. I turned to my kids and saw Jeremy trying to hide what looked like a can of Febreze. I told him to give it to me and he began to hand it over, spraying the can by accident as he did so, releasing even more of the cheese air. I took the can and threw it out the window. How the hell did he even get this?
Finally, we got back on the road. I scalded Jeremy about the can and Heather ratted him out about stealing the can at the gas station. Jeremy and Heather began to fight but I yelled and broke it up. It was pretty silent for the next couple minutes. I was debating about just calling this whole thing off if my kids can't behave.
My husband couldn't take the silence, because he turned on the radio and turned it up. There was no music, but instead there was some kind of a news report.
"Breez-E-Treats are currently being recalled after disaster after disaster has been reported, linking exploding people to the consumption of the edible air," the reported went on. I could feel a pit forming in my stomach. "We are urging everyone to stop eating the air in a can and throw it out immediately. There is no clear connection to how it is making people explode, only for some it happens shortly after consuming it. If you feel bloated or sick after eating it, we urge you to go to the hospital immediately and seek medical attention."
My husband and I exchanged worried glances before turning to our kids.
"Mommy, what does that mean?" Jeremy asked, his voice shaking with fear.
Then, there was a loud popping sound coming from the backseat. It got our kids.
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