The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Edition

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28 at her famished being, thinking of just how many regurgitations she endured to survive off those somehow odorless milk curdles. It occurred to me that the rings in the mug were not born of chai. Within the microwave oven, this little girl subsisted off her own dwindling waste. “Calm, calm, calm,” I whispered, trying to lock my eyes with hers, but always looking away as a stripped tooth sprouted from her rotting lips. She took a deep breath, growled softly, and scooted back. I opened the refrigerator door, completely at a loss for why I still smelled nothing. I flinched as light struck my naked eyes. On the top rack, wrapped in layers of hardy Ziplocs, were two cats. One a scraggly tabby, the other a standard tortoiseshell with an open mouth and gapped front teeth. All their eyes stared at us, their tufts of fur blowing weakly beneath the shield of everyday plastic. I stared into the mouth of the tortoiseshell, intrigued by the keratin spikes on its tongue, quite well preserved and inducing an itch. I scratched at my nose, turned to the girl, and in my awe and annoyance, asked, “Why does the apartment not smell like shit? Look at this!” I pointed to the now rippling pool of dark fluid ready to flood the kitchen, then the entire efficiency. The girl wrapped herself with all that she had. Pockmarked arms the girth of jumbo pencils, at most. She parted her lips, slowly clacking her teeth bound to chip. I realized that since my move, I never touched the thermostat. The temperature remained at fifty degrees Fahrenheit. The coldness didn’t seem to bother this
anished child, though my lack of complaint rooted itself in characteristic complacence. I closed the refrigerator door, turning to the girl who then pointed at my forehead. “Sky, sky,” she calmly repeated. I craned my neck to face what remained of the shattered microwave door. My face was two shades paler, my eyes betraying some psychosomatic jaundice. Tears brimmed, and I winced at the pain from having no more eyelashes. I swallowed several times, whipping my tongue across the sides of my mouth only to feel no moisture. I was burning, she kept staring, and passively, I counted the cuts on my skin. Thirteen. Half my age, though accurately representative of my emotional maturity and responsiveness in dire situations. Finally, I gagged, applying pressure to my forehead with a piece of paper towel I tore without grace. The girl, weakened by her rickety frame and months unfed, looked up at me, corners of her lips upturned. The fluid that flowed from the cats’ chilled slumber rose to our ankles. Chunks of undigested sausage tossed themselves out of my aching mouth as my eyes grew wide, their shades of brown settling into something darker than black. The coral mug of milk curdles and dried excrement rolled splashed into the flood. The girl meekly picked it up, holding it to her crater of a chest while grinning at me, the blood on her lips peeling away, her matted hair seeming more kept beneath the glow of the apartment’s brightest bulb. I last remember falling, shaking as the cat waste entered my lungs. After weeks in the hospital, shaking my head in the negative and refusing to provide explanations to every question asked, I returned to an emp- 29
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Page 6 and 7: The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Editi
Page 9 and 10: 7 Beloved Leigh Fisher The chambers
Page 11 and 12: 9 empty, she was resting on her kne
Page 13 and 14: ed by wrapping both of his arms aro
Page 15 and 16: Regardless, she just couldn’t mak
Page 17 and 18: her. She couldn’t quite tell if h
Page 19 and 20: 17 Kristine Brown
Page 21 and 22: ment was the home of Alvin and Marl
Page 23 and 24: claim, build her realm, take a fami
Page 25 and 26: 23 portunities to experiment with s
Page 27 and 28: Every day or so, I dismantled half
Page 29: 27 at overgrown claws in the absenc
Page 33 and 34: 31 Good Help These Days Gordon Brow
Page 35 and 36: his business.” “Oh…” I murm
Page 37 and 38: cate thing. I believe they had come
Page 39 and 40: Over and over and over whispering,
Page 41 and 42: 39 Kristine Brown
Page 43 and 44: mind herself that she needed to rem
Page 45 and 46: 43 “Don’t you see the bruising
Page 47 and 48: The Commander and Tou came into the
Page 49 and 50: tape had been taken that they were
Page 51 and 52: 49 one of the pods and someone woul
Page 53 and 54: 51 chopathic part of their personal
Page 55 and 56: 53 Hands & Moons Ryan Dodge Khalis
Page 57 and 58: “An S-class? Those things are gig
Page 59 and 60: My eyes widened as I saw the enormi
Page 61 and 62: some lining the walls and others fo
Page 63 and 64: 61 to rid my mind of what I had jus
Page 65 and 66: his blaster and aimed it into the d
Page 67 and 68: from the Inner Systems. Ships get l
Page 69 and 70: handle it and I ran, I ran until I
Page 71 and 72: grabbed him, pulling him straight i
Page 73 and 74: 71 The Nascent Horror Bryce Simmons
Page 75 and 76: I reached the entrance, she had alr
Page 77 and 78: 75 portending some dreadful, inhuma
Page 79 and 80: throughout my spirit. “From Earth
Page 81 and 82:
even butchers of the foulest abatto
Page 83 and 84:
ut the wills of my cognition were n
Page 85 and 86:
droplets, drenching my over coat in
Page 87 and 88:
aspy panic, causing spittle to dang
Page 89 and 90:
“Six.” Silence. The old man loo
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mound of dirt far over my shoulder.
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gasoline and had set it aflame. The
Page 95 and 96:
125 watts per bulb. Rectangular box
Page 97 and 98:
luminous. The shopping hordes with
Page 99 and 100:
97 ing his missing limb. Raven kick
Page 101 and 102:
“What do I say this time?” Dr.
Page 103 and 104:
101 Kristine Brown
Page 105 and 106:
mark beneath her left eye: pink, in
Page 107 and 108:
105 thuds on the pavement. Then I s
Page 109:
eye sockets beheld nothing ahead of
Page 112 and 113:
in the Winter’s Grasp anthology b
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