The Haunted Traveler Vol 1 Issue 2


Kick in Halloween with the latest issue of The Haunted Traveler. We opened up and looked for the strangest and the most horrific tales from this universe, bringing them here in a single collection for the readers to get a little twisted. The Haunted Traveler is a horror and science fiction literary anthology that releases twice a year. Published through Weasel Press, the anthology seeks to roam around with the stories you'll never forget. Those dark little tales that are sort of etched in everyone. We love the dark and twisted and we really want to be scared. Check out our website to see when we're open next. The Haunted Traveler is a non-profit, Horror and Science Fiction anthology that accepts a wide variety of art media such as photography, short fiction, creative non-fiction, digital artwork and more.


which he had been sitting, at the vicious, ragged teeth

marks there.

‘I think we’ve got trouble, Boss,’ he said,

groping at his backside, at the nest of foam wedged in

the gaping tear in his trousers. It was at this moment,

fuelled by righteous anger and clutching a towel to his

smarting nose, Bob oozed into the office.

‘This is an outrage,’ he was saying, ‘an absolute

outrage. I demand -’

Boyle never heard his demands, so intent was he on

removing the remains of the seat from between his

cheeks; nor did he notice Sandra emerge from Bob’s

orbit, her pretty face knuckled up and glaring in his


‘I can assure you this will be dealt with in

house,’ Flynn was squeaking nervously. ‘Mr Boyle

will feel the full, ah…weight, of my sanctions. There

is really no need to involve the law.’

‘We’ll have to bring Mr Harris to the hospital,’

butted in Sandra. ‘He’s going to need a few stitches at


‘Nonsense,’ fluttered Flynn. ‘A bit of salve will

do the trick. It’s not so bad, a scratch, nothing more.

He’s made of sterner stuff than you give him credit

for, Sandra. Isn’t that right, Bob?’

Meanwhile, Boyle’s probing fingers had made

a shocking discovery during their retrieval exercise;

they had landed upon a set of razor sharp teeth, behind

which flicked a dry snakelike tongue. A mouth. An

entrance where only an exit should be.

As if prompted by Flynn’s allusion to what

Bob was made of, the mouth opened and gnashed,

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