This is not the first short story I have ever written, nor is it the most ambitious, but I think it encapsulates well the tone I would later adopt for the vast majority of my stories. Many refer to this style of story as “keyhole fiction,” as in a vignette that reveals a strange world through an obscured viewpoint, much like looking into a room through its keyhole. The story was originally posted to a forum for sharing quick horror fiction, and in many ways it emulates the casual/everyman voice often used on such sites. Regardless, I am still fond of this tale and I try to incorporate some of its elements in later pieces.
The ancestral vault known as the Ink Sepulchre is not found in any graveyard or abandoned manor. Instead, the Ink Sepulchre is buried deep within the pen strokes of mad writers that dance along the margins of moth-bitten tomes. The denizens of this tomb venerate strange artifacts and fractured memories. Some recall a secret tape that reveal an unspeakable crime. Some talk of sirens that lure fisherman to a fate beyond the briny depths. Some worship a forgotten god that delights only in devouring its young. All must face the folly of their obsession, and embrace the terror of existence.
This is a collection of short stories written by the creator known as Eldritch Hat. Each story aims at a cerebral sort of horror and seeks to reach a mutual understanding of dread with the reader. I release this anthology in hopes of spreading empathy through the medium of fear.