A fierce tug awakens me from drunken stupor
My sheets tumble off the edge of the bed
He’s come, once again, for His meal

It is my sworn duty to tend to Him and his arcane needs
a result of purchasing Alveus Manor, my current home
Strangely, it has been many decades since
Yet, I do not age but for my mind

To maintain a sense of control on things, I ponder
Many hours have been spent toiling in reflection
forgotten lovers, forgotten names
They mean precious little now

There is a singular memory that screeches loudest
some deal sealed with incantations and blood
scars adorn my wrists in confirmation
This memory is certainly true

I set the bowl out near the darkest part of my manor
From the floor, a trapdoor creaks upwards
I see the sharp glint of some child’s eyes
They dart around on an elderly face

He snatches the bowl with pale claws and blinks expectantly
It is then that I remember the burning whims of my duty
With a dagger and a prayer, my wrist spurts
Red nutrition cakes into the container

Prize in hand, He scurries back underneath the floor
sounds of primal content slither along the walls
He clambers back up with satisfaction
I am to be rewarded

He holds the bowl as if praising Old Gods across our universe
Elixir jets past teeth that resemble those of an infant
Creamy white substance settles in the bowl
It seems the result of melted moons

I do as I have done since first moving into this cursed place
I drink the ghostly elixir without any extrinsic cause
He flashes blood-stained teeth and hobbles away
Instantly, my eyes brighten and my skin tightens

My name has long been struck from history as well
My purpose remains free of doubt or suspicion
I return to bed in morbid anticipation
Drifting into madness, I fall asleep

A fierce tug awakens me from drunken stupor
My sheets tumble off the edge of the bed
He’s come, once again, for his meal