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Last updateTue, 06 Aug 2013 2am

Back You are here: Home Themed Collections The Collective Speaks Oct. 2011: Ghost Stories
October 2011: Ghost Stories

October 2011: Ghost Stories

So many good stories to choose from. It took a lot longer than usual to get through all the submissions, but hey - suspense is crucial to spooky stories, right? Here's our lineup for October (and there's a strong chance that a couple of bonus stories will slither in later this month as well). There are ghosts, monsters real and imagined, haunted houses and haunted souls. For October, we bring you:

October 3: Sterling Road by Daniel Donche
October 6: Passersby by Christian Williams
October 10: 2X2L Calling PQ by Kristopher Monroe
October 12: Broken Things in a Box by DB Cox
October 17: Where the Horror Is by Martin Garrity
October 19: With All Fine Corpses by Katheryn Soverane
October 24: Needlemen of New Orleans by Matthew C Funk
October 26: Johnny Be Gone by Alexandria Ali
October 28: Order of the Ficus by Bob Pastorella

Also, on Monday October 10 we'll be making the official announcement about our new print anthology due out in November, and a call for submissions for our next online collection in December. Thanks for reading!

Friday, 28 October 2011 04:48

Order of the Ficus

Written by

The fig tree was always off limits as long as Danny could remember. Mr. Katz would yell bloody murder if anyone even stepped in his yard, though the empty lot next to his house was fair game. Every summer it was scuffed up old tennis balls and aluminum bats. No one knew where the bases were except for home plate, which was a worn patch of dirt and grass as big as a car, so they used pieces of cardboard and left over roof shingles. As long as they didn’t hit any of the cars passing down nearby 25th Street, the kids could play all they wanted.

Wednesday, 26 October 2011 18:17

Johnny Be Gone

Written by

When the autumn leaves came John loved to heap them over the low rocks to create a mattress. There he would lay reading, playing with his cars and spying with his binoculars until the daylight waned and his mother called him inside. He and his father gathered the crisp leaves from all across the grounds before the weather got too chilly. When John died no one ventured close to his play area, and the leaves were left to blow over the gorse-covered slope and down to the creeping streams amongst the trees.

Monday, 24 October 2011 18:19

Needlemen of New Orleans

Written by

May finished getting ready and came out to find Granmere burning down the kitchen. She had just put on her rouge, the final touch that always put May in a putrid mood. Opening the off-kilter bathroom door shoved a curtain of smoke at her.

Wednesday, 19 October 2011 18:37

With All Fine Corpses

Written by

Autumn has come,
With all fine corpses masquerading in the folds,
Of her steady winds as they ride cool,
Through the night.

Wednesday, 12 October 2011 23:36

Broken Things in a Box

Written by

Again, it is night. The table lamp flickers, and shadows dance crazily along the walls. There’s the sound again—a junk-sick headache thumping and ringing and generally raising hell inside my skull. Everything in the room is moving in and out of focus.

Monday, 10 October 2011 16:34

2X2L Calling PQ

Written by

“Is there anyone there?  Come in…”

The dusty ham radio crackled in the darkness as Eli kicked his feet in the air, sitting on the edge of the broken wooden chair his father had thrown out months earlier.  Both of Eli’s parents were long asleep as he tried to reach PQ.  He huddled down in the small garage all by himself just as he did almost every night since he’d found the abandoned radio buried beneath a pile of old tools and muddy tarp.

Thursday, 06 October 2011 18:19


Written by

He waits. Chewing on the inside of his dry mouth and flicking his tongue across his teeth as if digging out a piece of pork. Hands deep in the coat pockets and shoulders raised to his jaw as smoke trails across his yellow face. The cold bites his ears. He waits.

Monday, 03 October 2011 04:27

Sterling Road

Written by

Two tendrils of light rend the thick fog into three pieces and keep the darkness at bay as we snake a path down the slick road. The trees twist and grimace, slightly darker than the night, waiting, waiting, waiting for us to veer just close enough, but Ben negotiates the road so we remain just out of their sinister reach.