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And I suspected this had less to do with the curfew, than with the fear of what might be loose in the streets, moving in the darkness. - (Conspirators of Gor, Chapter 15, Sentence #21)

But what then? The market would be deserted at this hour, and ill-lit, if lit at all. Certainly the goods, the currencies, and such, would be withdrawn and locked away. There were few in the streets, and they were furtive, indeed. And I suspected this had less to do with the curfew, than with the fear of what might be loose in the streets, moving in the darkness. The beast, I was sure, might have most of the city at its disposal, moving from roof to roof, traversing the darkness, saving perhaps the towers and bridges. Why was I obeying the beast? Why was I moving, as I could, toward the market of Cestias? Would it not have been better to flee anywhere else? Why would he want me there, rather than somewhere else? Was it in the market, near the praetor's platform that he wished to apprehend me? Was I proceeding blindly, foolishly, toward a predesignated place of execution? But why there, rather than a hundred other places? What might be special about that place? Indeed, why did he not simply kill me in the domicile, bloodlessly, strangling me, breaking a neck, and then carrying me to some other part of the city, far from the shop of Epicrates, to be discovered in the morning? But, I recalled, from Antiope, that slaves, or, at least, it seemed so, had not been set upon. To be sure, perhaps no other slave had seen paws, and arms and fur, matted thickly with dried blood. - (Conspirators of Gor)