The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Edition


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.



Provolone Sinatra

Between Aiden and I, stood only a rusting, twisted

gate. The sky was raging more furiously this midnight,

than I had ever experienced in the forty odd years of

my life. I had been sitting inside my car for thirteen

minutes, with my headlights beaming on the black

gate. The radio was turned to light jazz, and a cigarette

smoldered on my lips, dying without my participation.

My gaze had glazed over moments after I was parked,

and I had stayed like that until the music slowly dried

into an absent white noise, that existed just behind the

veil of my acknowledgement.

The door to the medieval gate, was crudely locked

by a series of complex mechanisms that were composed

of several interwoven chains and padlocks.

Rain was falling dramatically, in puddles rather than

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