A delightfully creepy tale in the vein of The Case of Charles Dexter Ward, except recasting the protagonist as a put-upon eleven-year-old boy. There is a feeling mostly particular to childhood of feeling as though one should not be afraid, but still being afraid. Being home alone, jumping off the high-dive, visiting the dentist: these things may trigger this. Gramma milks this emotion perfectly. I was vividly recalling a time when I was at home by myself as the sky darkened with rainclouds and every strange knock hid something sinister or slithering. Experiencing this story with this mindset was wonderful.
Plus, I’m a sucker for Hastur.