H.P. Lovecrabbe lives in an old house surrounded by old things that creak and smell rather old. He has a PhD. in Arcana and collects those things that cannot be named.
At least once a week, Frank Thurston Waylaid is taunted by something evil. Frozen with fear, he cannot confront that which lurks at his doorstep in the suffocating blackness of night. It is only in the safety of daylight that he ventures forth to see that which is left behind; a blackened oval of something burnt and reeking.
Smell the fear in this short tale of eldritch proportions!