The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Edition

weaselpress

After a brief hiatus, The Haunted Traveler is back to bring you some of the best horror out there. Open up and tread with caution, the next scare is just a page flip away.

claim, build her realm, take a family of her own. And

woe to the offender who stood in her way.

Marla carefully closed the book, leaned within a foot

of her daughter’s face to give the girl a single condescending

peck in the air, then sauntered to the bedroom

door and reached for the light switch. Just before

Joanie’s bedroom was plunged into darkness, the bobcat

caught a glimpse of Alvin Castille’s stiffening fingers,

posthumously grasping for some kind of rescue,

like the pink hands of the rodents whose tiny capillaries

he’d so mercilessly hemorrhaged.

It was getting late. The bobcat nosed through the tall

grass and found himself a prize better than a warbler.

It was a fat barn swallow, still kicking, a BB lodged in

its tattered chest. The cat took the bird in his mouth,

then slinked down the hill and back to his range. The

barn swallow’s corpse would rest in the cat’s belly until

morning. Then the cat would find another tree to

shit on. And he would shit on that one good.

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