Weekly Round-up - Halloween Special!

Oct 29, 201210 min read

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Published: Oct 29, 2012

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Every week, we collect and feature the outstanding submissions to our gallery. If you're looking for quality literature to read, start here!

Each item is hand-picked by our admins and presented with a small introduction (we think this makes browsing literature easier). We don't seek perfection: we just choose interesting work and share it for critique, appreciation and encouragement.

What's that coming over the hill? Is it a monster?! No - it's just a Halloween themed Weekly Round-up, shambling awkwardly over the horizon to EAT YOUR BRAINS

This Week's Spooky Highlights!

The Transcript by Tanton

The night is silent and dark. Heart beating furiously, a man plays back a tape; releasing the carefree voices of the past into the night like so many ghosts.

Using very minimalist story-telling techniques, Tanton's short piece manages to create a surprising amount of suspense and atmosphere. The perfect foil for a dark October evening - just don't read before heading out for a walk on your own.

Sacks by BrokenTales

Hera thinks she's seen just about everything that medical inspections had to offer: until she finds herself in the company of Doctors Jenkins and Jones.

A slow-burning sci-fi horror which takes its time to set the scene, then delivers a punch to the gut with a horrifying closing paragraph.

Memoirs of the Undead by EmmyIsAZebra

Vicky wakes up to darkness - appears to have forgotten how to breathe. As she regains her senses, she realises that that's not all she's forgotten...

Being reborn must be a strange experience - lurching from one life to another without being quite sure which you is the real, er, you. Here, EmmyIsAZebra takes a sly look at a most unnatural gestation process.

Still looking for a scare? Why not check out these previously featured works for some of our favourite horror literature:

:thumb200964434: Little Green Dot: A Horror StoryI don't think I've ever wanted something so badly, yet been so terrified for my wish to be realized.
I suppose I should back up and explain.
She died one month ago today. I didn't know her as well as I would have liked, but then again that's what everyone says about someone who has passed away. I was friends with her on Facebook, but that doesn't exactly count for much. She liked my statuses about the curling championships, and I liked all of the photos she shared about family and her son's tattoo art.
One month ago today, my aunt died.
Her husband and children (they're my uncle and cousins, but like I said, we weren't all that close) haven't deleted her account. She's still there in my little About page, tumbling around my friends list, that tiny pixelated title under her name: Aunt. But worst of all, that big bar on the side of my Facebook page that lists a random assortment of friends, showing who's online and who isn't; she still shows up there. Every once and I while I catch that The Gunslinger

"You mean you ain't never heard of the Gunslinger?"
The bar was almost dead at this time of night, and the question seemed to echo around the room - emphasising the sudden silence, rather than masking it.
"No, boy, I ain't."
Only a handful of stragglers remained, the dregs of the evening clearing the dregs of their whiskeys. The lights shone dimly, and everything moved lethargically in the warm Texas night.
"Well I'll be. I thought everyone 'round here knew the story of the 'slinger'," said one of the stragglers – a tall, skinny man wearing a pale cowboy hat. A battered guitar rested on his knee.
"I'm new in town."
They sat at the bar - the musician and the newcomer. The guitarist resumed a lazy melody across the treble strings.
"Oh really?" he drawled, fingers sliding slowly over the fretboard. "And how are y'all finding our little patch of dirt?"
"Whiskey's expensive. Women all look like men," the newcomer replied. "Music's terrible," he added, eying up the musician suspiciously The TearoomThe empty coffee cup lands straight on top of your left foot. You cringe before the impact and you feel the fresh sting of ceramic shards being etched into your foot as they peel away the skin. Your sister screams and asks if you are okay, putting a caring hand on your shoulder. You shrug her off and grab a handful of paper towels to stop the blood and tease her about being so easily scared, just like you used to when you were young. The whispers from the end of the hallway had stopped, but they soon picked up again and you breathe a sigh of relief. Your sister hadn't scared the children. You try and bandage your foot while fighting off your sisters' attempts to help. Doing so, you change the subject, mentioning the present she had bought for your daughter.
Annie was a mysterious child, even to you. She was polite and intelligent and articulate enough to hold conversations with your friends, most in their thirties. But Annie had a strange habit for alienating other children and even sc

Community News

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DLD and DD Shout Outs!

Huge congratulations to enigmaticsmile, who today received a Daily Deviation for Noticed in Commiting

A few of our members also received

this week! Help us share the love:

juniorel on the piece The Belly of a Whale

EmmyIsAZebra (her again?!) for Gallows.

And our very own forestmeetwildfire for sunshine streaming.

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to be featured, please visit DailyLitDeviations or have a look at FAQ #18: Who selects Daily Deviations and how are they chosen?}