‘What inspired this monster to be born?’, some may ask.
It was The Hound, by HP Lovecraft. Of all his works that I have read so far, The Hound bothered me; the other stories that he wrote, while good, failed to have such a gruesome effect as this one did. What did The Hound have that the others didn’t?
It’s hard to say.
Perhaps it was the lack of subtlety when portraying the occult. Maybe it was the blunt foolishness of the two characters and their actions, not to forget their uncomfortable fixation on death. Call them Lovecraft’s version of Bert and Ernie, if you will. And then leave it at that.
Whatever it was, the effect was profound enough to wake up a memory within me, the memory of my own enigmatic monster.