The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Edition

gasoline and had set it aflame. The sign of the beast
glowed indignantly. I cast the hood of my black robe
over my head, as to feel no guilt as the groundskeeper
watched me, and gagged in horror.
In the middle of the pentagram was chained a ram.
Beneath this goat is where my son was now buried,
soaking up the cursed magic that lingered in the soil.
I stepped towards the ram in the center of the flaming
pentagram, and produced a jagged dagger. The moon
was finally in position. I raised the dagger towards the
sky, and slowly drew it down towards Hell. When the
dagger was pointed at the floor, I raised it once more,
and slit the ram’s neck. He let out a shrill scream and
twitched a bit, then fell to floor motionless. His blood
was warm on my hands.
I sat in the middle of the pentagram, waiting for the
soil beneath me to rumble. I waited for the grey fingers
of my monster son to poke out through the dirt,
and grasp hungrily at his offering chained to the tree.
I waited, and waited…and then I cried. I couldn’t stop
crying.
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