Book Review – Leech

When I first picked up LEECH by Hiron Ennes, my brain simply did not know how to process what I was reading. You know that feeling when you try a completely new cuisine and your taste buds are like “wait… what’s happening here?” That’s exactly how I felt diving into this bizarrely captivating book.

The story follows a parasitic entity (yes, you read that right) who serves as a doctor from the mysterious Institute, arriving at an isolated chateau to investigate the death of their predecessor. But this isn’t just any regular medical mystery – our protagonist has lived for centuries by moving from host to host, and what they discover in this frozen northern landscape goes far beyond a simple murder.

The atmosphere in this book is absolutely delicious. Ennes crafts a setting that feels like Frankenstein’s castle got mixed up with The Thing, creating this perpetually cold, claustrophobic environment that had me pulling my blanket tighter around myself while reading. The chateau itself becomes this living, breathing character with its endless dark corridors and secrets lurking in every shadow. I especially loved how the brutal winter setting mirrored the isolation and psychological horror of the story – it reminded me of those bitter Canadian winters where the snow feels like it’s trying to swallow you whole.

The writing style is definitely going to be divisive for some readers. Ennes employs this very deliberately archaic, 19th-century prose that takes some getting used to. I’ll admit, the first fifty pages had me reaching for my phone to look up words I hadn’t encountered since my university literature classes. But once you settle into the rhythm, it actually enhances the Gothic atmosphere perfectly. It’s like reading Mary Shelley’s long-lost sci-fi manuscript.

Now, I need to warn you about a few things. First, if you’re squeamish about body horror or medical procedures, this book might not be for you. There were several scenes that had me putting down my snack and making faces that probably looked hilarious to my cat. Second, this is not a book that holds your hand. The plot reveals itself in layers, like peeling back an onion made of nightmares, and you have to pay attention to every detail.

The character work here is fascinating, particularly because our protagonist isn’t even human in the traditional sense. The parasite’s clinical detachment from humanity while simultaneously trying to understand it creates this incredible tension throughout the narrative. It’s like watching an alien anthropologist trying to document human behavior while slowly realizing they might be more human than they thought.

What really impressed me was how Ennes managed to weave deeper themes about bodily autonomy, identity, and consciousness through all the horror elements. There’s this underlying question throughout the book about what makes us human, and whether consciousness can truly be contained in a single body. Pretty heavy stuff for what could have been just another Gothic horror novel!

I will say that the pacing in the first third of the book is a bit slow. Like watching honey drip on a cold day, it takes its time setting up all its pieces. But trust me, once things start moving, they really move. The final third of the book had me literally gasping out loud on my balcony (sorry, neighbors).

The ending… well, I won’t spoil it, but it left me with that satisfying yet slightly unsettled feeling that all great horror should. It’s like finishing a complex puzzle only to realize the picture it forms might be staring back at you.

Overall, LEECH is unlike anything else I’ve read this year. It’s sophisticated horror that demands your full attention and rewards it with a story that will burrow into your brain and set up residence there (pun absolutely intended). If you enjoy writers like Caitlin Starling or Silvia Moreno-Garcia, and don’t mind your horror with a heavy dose of “what did I just read?”, this book deserves a spot on your shelf.

Would I recommend it? Absolutely, but with caveats. This isn’t a book for everyone. If you prefer your horror straightforward or your plots cleanly resolved, you might want to look elsewhere. But if you’re willing to embrace the weird, if you don’t mind a book that makes you work a little, and if you can handle some seriously squicky body horror, then LEECH might just be your next favorite read.