On a cold winter's night it will find you. The feeling, the fear. Like a million little spiders creeping up your backbone, it contours to the hills and valleys of your vertebrate. Like a noose, the rope rough and rugged around your neck, it chokes you and steals your breath away. Like a knife it cuts deep into your gut, a pain so immense you can do nothing but wish to die. Oh, but you are dying. Like the cloth bound around your wrists, it renders you helpless. Like the hand over your mouth, it renders you speechless.
Then it's gone.
Then it's over.
It's finally over.