The Haunted Traveler Vol. 1 Issue 1

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smoke until there was nothing but me and the device. Once
it had absorbed the room the sound absorbed my mind and
I sat with singular intent turning the crank and staring in
to the mirror. At some stage, the sound stopped by itself despite
my winding the crank, releasing me. I was back in the
room again. I’m not sure how long I had been sitting there
but I could see the moon through the skylight. I hadn’t noticed
night falling. The room was deadly silent. Then, as I
leaned back in my chair I noticed it. Reflected in the device’s
mirror, just in front of the door, it stood staring. I swung
around but there was nothing there. Turning back to the
mirror there it was, closer now, right over my shoulder. I
froze in terror, staring back at it. When I felt it’s breath on
my neck I passed out.
That was three weeks ago. As soon as I had come to I fled,
swearing I would never return to the house again. But that
thing is following me. I forced myself to go back in to the
attic to see what I could discover. I’ve come to realise that
it’s not the room that’s the danger. I found a journal among
the notes in my late uncle’s desk drawer confirming what I
had pieced together about what had happened to me. That
antique device (I have dated it to 1899) somehow creates a
connection with a creature from another dimension that he
referred to as ‘The Explorer’. I do not understand the specifics
of the science behind it. Something to do with “the
effect of certain psycho acoustic resonances on brain waves”
according to my uncle’s notes. What exactly this thing is
trying to explore only the darkest wanderings of my imagination
can attempt to conceive. It dawned on me that this
may explain my uncle’s unusual brain activity in the hospital,
even under sedation. His mind, altered by the device, just
as mine is now, had become the gateway that allowed this
creature a level of access to our own dimension. Was it in
there with him when he was under sedation? Were they in
there together, in his mind? I hate to think about it.
It’s in every reflection I see now, that thing. It looks hu-