The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Edition

weaselpress

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.

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dered if he still looked precious while he decomposed.

While insects engorged themselves on his flesh, would

he still resemble my little boy? Now, I did not care. He

would arise a monster in his own right, a beast, an unholy

abomination. He would still be my little boy, even

after I watched him tear the jugular out of the throat

of his first human meal. He was, is, and will forever be,

my son.

After what seemed like hours, my shovel’s tip nicked

something solid. I knelt and brushed away the top layers

of dirt, yeah, it was wooden. A casket. My heart

skipped but half a beat. I was ready for this. The lid

creaked slowly open, and out wafted the damp and

warm stench of decaying flesh. I dropped the lid, and

tore away from the decorative box in disgust. I could

hear his voice in the distance, giggling. My God, that

kid’s smile could cure the world of any ailment, I was

sure of it. I tore the casket open with deadly intent,

and with my eyes peeled back, stared at the perfectly

assembled little boy in the light blue casket. His eyes

were shut. Arms crossed. He looked so peaceful; he

looked just the same only hollower. Grey. Deceased.

I brushed his hair over, and rubbed my thumb on his

cheek. Everything was going to be okay again.

By the time the groundskeeper regained consciousness,

he had already been transported to the far side of

the lot, and was chained to the trunk of the tree at the

top of the hill. He didn’t talk at first, no, he just mumbled

a bit and rolled his head around. I didn’t pay any

mind until he screamed. He must have seen the pentagram.

At the base of the tree, I had painted the grass with

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