Buildup to Terror

Terrified
Of a figment
No proof
No evidence
But fear
Imaginary shadow
Hunts his prey.
She runs faster
But
Doesn't move
She can't see,
But
Senses
His presence.
She can't hear,
But
Knows he is following.
She has not yet felt
His grasp on her arm,
But
Can imagine
His rough
Hands.
She can't smell,
But
Knows his musty breath.
No senses
Nothing left to fear
But fear itself.