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Both of those receptacles were empty at the moment, but I could see where the bottle would snap in. The table was covered with curling, curving runes. Runes. The same as the inside of the collar that controlled my nanite clothing. The walls were decorated by unfurled red banners and six sided pentagrams. A leering goat’s head statue sat in the center of the wall, looming over the macabre altar. Chains were connected to that altar. Chains that were spattered with drying blood.I remembered being pushed towards the altar.Robed figures loomed over me.I remembered being chained down.I remembered a voice.“Begin the ritual.”The chanting. It rose goosebumps along my skin, even in memory, and then. Then. Oh. Then. The jarring, the hideous juxtaposition. The cellphone going off. I could remember one of the robed figures slapping at themselves, then pulling out their phone. Its light - garish and blue - had splayed across the ceiling and I could see the smiling face of Rachel Loesser as she. Whenever I was serving them, all eyes glanced at me or openly stared atme. Stopped by my master as I brought in another plate, I was made tokneel next to him and hand fed by him. As I hadn't had anything to eat inhours, I eagerly accepted whatever he fed me, turkey, vegetables, warmchicken, anything. He enjoyed showing me off and his control over me wasclear to everyone.While I rested on my knees, I listened to the conversations going around.My master talked to the senator about funding, the issues he wanted him tofocus on, and his own goals. If the senator went along with it, thepresidency was almost assured, with my master providing generous fundingfor ads, publicity, and other forms of help. With a fortune somewherebetween 30 and 40 billion, he could afford to give the senator a fewhundred million without breaking a sweat.I could only assume that in return, my masters interests would be lookedafter and favourable treatment would be given to his businesses andinterests. Working from.
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