My Medicine

I wake up, naked, surrounded by my servants.
They have strapped and chained me to a table.
I have a good view of the ceiling. Daylight through the windows.
I don’t taste blood. My hands aren’t sticky.
Still…
“I forgot my medicine again, didn’t I?” I asked.
“Yes,” said my secretary.
“How many died this time?”
“Seven, I think. You made quite a mess.”
They release the chains and straps, and I get up.
“Thank you for washing me off.”
“You made quite a mess.”
I must remember to take my medicine.
Or my prescription will change… to silver bullets.