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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had left the car keys on the hall table and he would not

have to witness the carnage in the kitchen. He did not

want to vomit in front of Rhonda. She was right, he

didn’t have the stomach for this, though, if he had to,

he would bring her back a little boy or girl if the dog

proved insufficient.

Anything for Gemma.

Gemma. If he didn’t hurry he would miss her

burial. He checked his watch; barring traffic he would

be at the cemetery in twenty minutes. He drove cautiously,

all the windows open, yet he still felt like he

was cooking slowly, squinting through the white glare

of the day all the way to the churchyard.

It was a small funeral. Only her parents were

there, augmented by a few gouty uncles and acidic

aunts, a clutch of her more ’acceptable’ friends. He

wasn’t welcome. He was an embarrassment. The backstreet

boy who had bewitched their beautiful princess

(and oh, if they only knew how true that was, what

Rhonda had boiled up to seal the deal) only to lead her

astray.

They blamed him for her illness. They never

said as much but it was plain to see in their basilisk

stares. They had no idea the lengths he had went to

cure her - there wasn’t a cat left alive for miles around

his sister’s house. If anyone was to blame, it was

them; that shit in her blood that yellowed her skin and

greyed her looks was genetic. Their corrupt genes

were at fault, not his. Looking at this slack jawed

rabble it was impossible to believe she had sprang

from such a fetid pool.

Gemma was such a lovely girl, curvaceous and

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