In my ears an unending growl deafens my conscience. For I regret my old ways of theft and disregard. I had thought to myself, "Why care for the dead, as they no longer feel?" My choices have caught up with me, as I lay here paralyzed. Lurking around every corner and within every shadow. I hold my breath and with each step, I hope that I won't meet my end! At night, wide-eyed as I cannot rest, the winds do howl as the beast prowls in search of its prey. And I see, each time I close my eyes that if I run, it will surely come and I will feel its bite! I shudder at sites of bone-yards and dusty, old tombs. The baying of the hound gets louder as my remorse grows. I've seen this ghost twice before, a third I cannot handle. I dare not speak its name, for it will drag me to my grave.