Anubis

One thing can be agreed upon by all of us here.

The last thing any of us saw, before Anubis, was a tall, thin dead man, walking toward us, wearing a rotting duster covered in law badges. and then looking down the barrel of his Colt Dragoon before blackness...

Wake, sleep, wake, eat, tubes, wires, tanks,

Pain

unconsciousness, doctors, scientists, repeat

All the while, there is a whisper

Anubis

On the lips of everyone

Anubis

On paperwork waiting to be blacked out

Sewn into the patches of official uniforms

Of dead eyed soldiers

Of hard faced doctors, of the support staff who look right through you

Of the scientists who revel in our pain

Time is a disjointed, fragmented, broken thing.

Day and night are gone, we merely exist, waiting for the next round of tests to begin and end.

Until the memories of our former lives, our struggles, the wars, surviving, seem as sweet dreams

For all we are now are white rats

Stay Tuned for The Crazy Old Man and A Giant Robot

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