#slavegod

Fed from the hand No seat at the table You drink from the plan Direct from the cable No place to stand Just curled in your cradle Your calcified gland Replaces your navel Distractions demand You eat the whole plateful Tasting so bland Existence so shameful Gripping the sand Resistance is fatal This world's a sham Fuck your tower of Babel

Crucify your eyes For what you see outside With your eyes That try To conjure this reality To conjure this reality I deny Crucify reality Crucify reality

Fed from the brand You purchase the fable You think for the man As part of his stable Obeying his plan Mundane and faithful In constant remand So inescapable Existence so damned From fathers betrayal Never expand Existence so shameful Gripping the sand Resistance is fatal This world's a sham Fuck your tower of Babel

Imperial hate Wet with venom Self-deciet The perfect weapon Rusted gates No momentum Open wounds to disconnection

Things had changed once the Conclave left the area. The followers of Ammit had gotten to Alexander again and removed all doubt from his mind once again, using powers to wipe him devoid of his past and of his identity. It had already been such a hard process to convince and break through this before and Deacon was sure in himself this time it would hold the vampire for his beloved god.

Now a slave to the god who would weigh and consume souls, Alexander had been enduring torture and abuse if it meant satisfying this god. It was his purpose now, after all, not remembering anything that came before or the efforts made to have him remember the previous time this had happened.

But the following days in the infirmary stirred up blocked off visions. While he wasn't sure of what was happening or knowing exactly where he was, his mind was busy dreaming- many times this feeling like a fever dream.

Moments on his life would play out, from being human and trying to outrun the Conclave, killing his sire, stealing his daylight ring, various assassinations, tricking Lacy to make ends meet...

Dazed and confused, his eyes partially opened but his eyes felt heavy. He couldn't see well enough, being in and out of the dreamlike state. But he could hear voices. These voices merged into his dreams as he would again fall back into it, the voices saying something about the vampire was demonic, abyssal spells were used, and the constant use of the name 'Alexander'. None of this made any sense to him but were vivid enough that they felt real.

Again, he tried to open his eyes, seeing figures around him. Different voices having a discussion. One figure appeared to be holding papers, speaking about medical things that seemed foreign. He tried to open his eyes wider to investigate his surroundings, even trying to move but the energy quickly turned to lethargy as the vampire was being dosed heavily with tranquilizing meds through IV tubes. None of this was known to him, of course, but the failsafe of keeping the deadly assassin sedated was working. If Alexander had not befallen such weakness prior to getting here, he would have been able to be more alert.

"You think it could be Ammit?" a voice remarked, "he has the sigil."

"Possible, especially the way he was said to be acting. I'm not sure if we can reverse whatever this is."

"Do we even want to try? He's not exactly the most upstanding guy, in fact, he's a weapon."

"---and anyone else here can be used as a weapon. That's not a good enough reason to not help."

"Okay, how about this? He's a deadly assassin. One of the oldest vampires, all someone has to do is give their price and whomever is targeted is as good as dead. Not to mention--- he's not even a resident of the asylum. He's an outsider. He's been told several times not to breach the gates but he refuses to stop."

A brief pause, Alexander thinking he fell asleep again.

"Then you need to beef up security measures if we have this much trouble. Get better cameras, motion detection-- you should have more people on patrol to call these things out and act on them."

"With what money!? We lost 75% of security the past few years because of the risk! And the risk of dying!"

"That's not my problem to figure out right now. My problem is, do we find a fix, if there even is one, or do we just give a diagnosis and dump him somewhere?"

"If we dump him, who's to say there isn't any more of these Ammit people?"

"Ammit people?"

"Confused, memory-wiped people. Or if they're won't be more?"

"I'm going to tell you something I've noticed. The fires, right? A lot of shit stopped shortly after all of that. Those big ones, the... what were they called... Con....?"

"Conclave."

"Yes, those. We were getting reports just before they left. The reports all but stopped once they left. I'm not saying they're back, but what I'm proposing here is that this is an old problem that's just now being brought back to our attention. Alexander probably has been like this for the better part of a couple years. And I'll tell you another thing: I go past that mansion at least once a week or so. It's been abandoned. No scent of vampires. That's how I know. Wolves have moved in closer into the town since the vampires- especially him- have been away. Alexander has been on the grounds, probably hidden somewhere for some time now."

The vampire began to fade back into sleep again, voices getting farther and farther away. He wasn't quite sure if they had been talking about him or someone else, but it was strange they had been speaking so close and about Ammit.