The Haunted Traveler Vol 1 Issue 2

68
terror and dope, a wide-eyed witness to every rotting
crease and crevice in Mr Hedges decaying face.
A huge dry flake of skin floated down from
his mottled brow. She just knew it was going to land
in her mouth; and then she felt it land. She tasted it.
She wanted to be sick. She needed to vomit, her body
was already in spasm but could she risk being sick?
What if she choked? Somebody would have to help
her if she were sick. Surely, he’d have to stop if she
were sick! Mr Hedges snapped her mouth shut and
squeezed her nose with a deft pinch.
Creaking like the decks of an old boat he
turned away from her. He stiffly picked another instrument
from the trolley and then swung laboriously back
with the groan of aging ropes.
Evelyn squeezed her lips tight together but
again the fingers forced her mouth open and crept
inside. A large metal cylinder flashed before her,
shifting in size and shape as it moved closer. Evelyn’s
weeping eyes managed to focus for a moment. It was a
thick metal needle screwed into a syringe. The galvanised
scorpion stung her pallet twice. At last the dead
hands loosened their grip.
The corpse stood before her, fixed to the spot,
its jaw open upon its withered chest, the hands pinned
stiffly to its side, motionless, it’s dead eyes staring
back into its own skull. The tiny grey crown of Jane’s
head bobbed into view above the corpse’s right shoulder
and then disappeared below it. Evelyn heard an
odd mechanical whirr, as if a dry wheeled treadle were
being forced into life and then Jane’s head appeared
again and the whirring grew louder and faster and then