The Haunted Traveler Vol 1 Issue 2

weaselpress

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.

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being a great father. When she had our daughter, we

were both happy… Although I had thought it was

strange that not long before the birth… It couldn’t

have been more than 3 months beforehand; she had

asked for a closet that could be her own private space

with a lock and had requested to feed our daughter

privately. “It’s not too weird…” I thought, and I recommended

she take the guest room rather than just a

closet.

I think I’ve figured out now, how it is that

her weekend deliveries to Pike’s Place market got

started, though I’m still not sure why she started

them at that time. I often wondered why it was that

she requested only a closet of all things to herself. I

wondered where the silk that she took to Pike’s Place

market came from. I wondered why it was that after

she had our daughter, she requested me not to handle

her breasts in any way, unless I had her permission. I

still wonder what in the world she was feeding our girl

in that guest room. But these are answers I’ll never

have; since the house burned down. I had myself put

in here not only for protection; but also to get some

peace, and quiet. To give myself time to think and

sort all of this out.

The irony is that I haven’t had a moment’s

peace of mind since I got here. The firefighters told

me that no bodies were recovered from the fire. I

heard that my relatives had some kind of funeral or

service or something for my wife and daughter; but

I don’t know for certain that they’re dead. I was in

here. Waiting to hear hissing or scratching from the

other side of my cell door, or worse… to hear the door

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