It prowls behind you, creeping slowly, stealthily. You know it’s there. You can’t always pinpoint exactly when it arrived, and you never know when it will ever leave, but you most certainly know it’s there. Sometimes, you hear it. It growls. You hardly ever see it, and you don’t really want to see it, either. When it growls, you jump, and for the next few steps, you walk stiffly, hyper aware of the being behind you. If only you knew why it was following you, if only you knew what it looked like. If only. Eventually, you relax, thinking that because of the calm, it has left. And then, it will growl again. You jump once more and stiffen, but you’re not afraid. You can’t be afraid. You can’t fear the beast, because the beast is fear.
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