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.

aspy panic, causing spittle to dangled from my mouth

as I drew a plethora of deep breaths. What if he wasn’t

there, wherever there was?

No, I couldn’t do it. Not here. Not in front of him. I

thought I could, but I couldn’t, it was too ugly even for

this damned place. When I made the realization that

I would not be seeing him tonight, is when I cried. At

the time, I didn’t know it, but I had a better plan than

killing myself.

I don’t know for how long I sat there, whimpering

with a revolver pointed at my face, and drenched

clothes wrapped icily around my body. At some point,

the intruding sound of heavy footsteps quickly making

their way down the path to where I sat, roused me

from my frozen position. Instinctively, I raised my arm

up until I felt the revolver was pointed at the space

of nighttime darkness, that would soon be where the

person clobbering towards me would be standing. The

footsteps disappeared. I tightened my grip on the gun.

“You go’n shoot boy?” a grizzly voice sounded from

behind a tree about thirty feet in front of me. Native

southerner, by the sound of him, and large.

“Who are you?” I said. My voice is quiet but harsh,

like a strained whisper.

“Groundskeeper,” he said, “who’dya think?”

I lower my gun and stand up, “It’s away,” I said, feeling

guilty at my hostility. I could feel him peeking from

around the tree, though it was too dark to see him.

Slowly, he stepped into view.

Before me stood a tall and lanky old man. He smelled

like death, and looked as though life had chiseled the

wrinkles of his face into a permanent scowl. He wore


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