I've been reading M. R. James' ghost stories since I was about twelve. (I'm a very slow reader.)
There's nothing quite like them for the subtlety and gradual accumulation of atmospheric foreboding, and one of the best is 'O, Whistle and I'll Come to You, My Lad,' the story of Professor Parkin's seaside holiday.
I started this in pen and ink, but decided pencil was what it needed.
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