The Haunted Traveler Vol. 1 Issue 1
Welcome to the first issue of The Haunted Traveler; a roaming anthology seeking to collect the strange and the wild stories that we all carry. Those words hidden in the deep dark that linger around. Weasel Press is proud to have released this first collection of material and is excited to do more anthologies in the future. The Haunted Traveler is a non-profit, Horror and Science Fiction anthology that accepts a wide variety of art media such as photography, short fiction, creative non-fiction, digital artwork and more. Our anthology publishes twice a year. To find out more information about our submission process, please review our submission guidelines. Our first issue was released on March 28, 2014 and we couldn’t be more excited to feature the explosive talent that has been submitted to us. Our idea is to have an anthology roaming around parts of the world with a collection of frightening and strange stories; a mysterious anthology with a collection of ghosts.
Welcome to the first issue of The Haunted Traveler; a roaming anthology seeking to collect the strange and the wild stories that we all carry. Those words hidden in the deep dark that linger around. Weasel Press is proud to have released this first collection of material and is excited to do more anthologies in the future. The Haunted Traveler is a non-profit, Horror and Science Fiction anthology that accepts a wide variety of art media such as photography, short fiction, creative non-fiction, digital artwork and more. Our anthology publishes twice a year. To find out more information about our submission process, please review our submission guidelines. Our first issue was released on March 28, 2014 and we couldn’t be more excited to feature the explosive talent that has been submitted to us. Our idea is to have an anthology roaming around parts of the world with a collection of frightening and strange stories; a mysterious anthology with a collection of ghosts.
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their inferiors.<br />
Contacting an ex-Nazi was easier than I expected. Off of<br />
the Stormfront web-site, I discovered the 89-year old writer<br />
of a book entitled “Confessions from Auschwitz” by Bronislaw<br />
Sobieski.<br />
Sobieski became a fascist in 1933, when he was thirteen<br />
years old. His mother was killed on her way to mass by a<br />
neighborhood communist organizer. <strong>The</strong> police said they<br />
couldn’t prove who did it, but Bronislaw knew it was Anatole<br />
Padereski. <strong>The</strong> whole neighborhood knew Padereski<br />
had been in love with Ludmilla Sobieski since their days at<br />
the university at Krakow, where she had flirted with him<br />
and Bolshevism. <strong>The</strong>n she rejected Communism because it<br />
rejected God, and she rejected Anatole because he was an<br />
atheist. She fell into Bruno’s bed because he was a passionate<br />
lover. <strong>The</strong>ir rapturous union produced Bronislaw.<br />
An eternal barb lodged in the soul of Bronislaw that terrible<br />
morning. He would seize any opportunity to avenge<br />
what could not be undone. He was able to kill Jewish mothers<br />
and children with a clear conscience because their deaths<br />
weren’t murder. <strong>The</strong>y were death sentences written in black<br />
bold letters on the pages of history.<br />
“Like the beatitude that read, blessed are those who hunger<br />
and thirst for justice, for they shall be satisfied,” the first<br />
chapter of his book began, and I knew he was my man. Perhaps<br />
he would see in me another mother wronged by an<br />
unbeliever. I e-mailed Sobieski this message: I hunger and I<br />
thirst. Who will slake my deprivation? I included a link to<br />
Shinholter’s web-page. Twenty-four hours later Bronislaw<br />
replied: I will.<br />
He didn’t ask for details. <strong>The</strong>re was no need. He understood<br />
what I needed as only those who are dying of malignant<br />
trauma can understand. Sobieski had a name and a<br />
place—all I had to do was wait. We never met. I have never<br />
seen his face. But I know what he did for me was an act of<br />
retribution in defense of dishonored womanhood. Bronislaw<br />
9