The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Edition

droplets, drenching my over coat in mere moments as
I staggered from my vehicle. All around me, echoed the
roaring storm. Above me, darkening clouds twisted
and turned into varying malicious shapes; it appeared
that both the wind and rain were coming from every
direction. The rusting chains held strong for a few moments.
They initially resisted the efforts of the bolt cutters,
but required little perseverance to finesse away.
The gate doors creaked forward and lurched for my
lapels, as if to casually shake me to my senses. The act
was almost friendly, but I am not so easily fooled, and
immediately diagnosed this lurching as an act of ill
intent on behalf of my iron acquaintance, of course. I
stepped forward, allowing muscle memory to carry me
down the trail towards my destination. Upon passing
the threshold of the gate, I could sense that it was a
place of great evil as I had done many times before in
the past week. Still, through the prying sense of dread,
I continued forward.
The soil was most certainly predominately packed
with well-dressed skeletons. I was surprised the roots
of any plants had found room amongst the bones to
grow. A few scrawny trees had taken root, and were
actively reaping the nutritional benefit of the rich carrion.
These despicable, miniscule trees had a thick,
jagged, black bark that formed a very abrasive exoskeleton
around the thin and fragile plant. To run your
hand over it was the equivalent of a tiger shark, or
freshly laid gravel. Their leaves withered indefinitely,
and sported a sickly dark-purple hue. These bastardly
plants, had a single redeeming quality, which was their
ability to produce sweet fruits that resemble fuzzy or-
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