In the witching hour, something moves. Something creeps unseen betwixt the rising of moon and sun. Something terrible, all fear it. They hear it coming and run. But they can never escape. For once they are born the clock starts ticking. Death stalks them. Drawing ever closer. A monster who takes children and old men alike. Tonight he is outside my door. In the walls, all around. I do not scream, though my time has come. I smile as he staggers in. I never feared Death, I knew he would come, but would not let fear rob me of my last breath. Death took me peacefully, and went on his way, to shadow another’s steps.