I didn't care for this one overmuch, honestly. I spent the first half waiting for it to get to the point and the second half waiting for it to stop beating the point into the ground with a stick. I feel like the idea of your own soul revolting against you has a lot more horror in it than this story allows through; Emmet wasn't so much a piece of the narrator as a Golem (lampshaded, which I appreciated), and we all know how that story ends. I was rather hoping for more of a dissolution-of-identity story rather than "Oh, no, my magical slaves have overthrown my cruel tyranny." I'm afraid of losing myself; I'm not very afraid at all of those I oppress coming to get me. (Because I try hard not to oppress anyone.)
The old-timey style appeals to me, and I think it was a good choice for this story, but I also think the sneering disdain of the narrator rather undercut the horror in this instance. (Compare "The Voice in the Night," a legitimately old-fashioned story that Pseudopod fans should recognize, in which the distant tone and matter-of-fact recitation make the horror more vivid by leaving it to the audience to imagine the truly awful parts.) He spends so long acting like an occult hipster that his flips into Lovecraftian description and then doomed victim mode don't convince me.