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.


faded light blue jeans that were covered in muck, as

was his white tee and unbuttoned flannel. The company

sported on the cap lowered to his eyes, seemed to be

a towing service.

“I know why you here boy,” he said, spitting dip at

the floor between us.

“Oh yeah?” I retorted.

“It ain’t go’n work boy, just superstition, is all.”

He was staring at me intently, making an assessment,

his light grey eyes unmoving from mine. Suddenly,

I was aware of my… suspicious condition. I pushed

my long black hair back behind my face, and felt the

stubble on my face. Surely, I must look like a welldressed

homeless man, or a grave robber.

“Look, I’m just here to see my son. That’s all I wanted.”

“In th’ dead-o’-night?” he rasped questioningly. I

looked at my shoes, my behavior reminiscent of a child

being scolded by his parents for staying up too late.

“Y’know how hard my job is boy? Without your lot.”

I laughed. “What?”

“It’s devil magic boy!”

I stepped back, a little alarmed at his increasing aggression

to my presence. I had lived in this town for a

month before my son died, and didn’t speak much after

he did. The people here were different, I knew that

much. Maybe I was paranoid.

“I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes

in me, though he die, yet shall he live,” said the

groundskeeper, “John 11:25.”

“That’s… nice, thank you.”

“How old was he? Your boy?”

More magazines by this user
Similar magazines