five sentence ask game-
"what will it take for you to learn?"
"What will it take for you to learn?!" Vince roars, kicking Declan's frail, sleeping body from his mattress. He springs awake, tumbling to the floor, all the colour draining from his already pale and gaunt face when he locks eyes with the vampire.
He didn't wake up in time. Again. For the third time this week. Declan knows the routine, it's ingrained in his skull; the second he hears the jingle of the padlock, the door being unbolted - he has ten seconds max to scuttle into the center of the room and bend to his knees.
But he's so exhausted. So weak. His minds so foggy and his energy depleted. He knows the rules like the back of his hand, he doesn't need to learn them. It's not disobedience. It's fatigue.
"S-Sor-"
Vince backhands him across the face, slamming him to the floor. Reeling and dazed. He pushes on his shaking arms to lift himself back up, Vince stamps him back down. Declan resigns, crumbling onto his front and resting his pounding head against the cold concrete.
"Repeat after me, human. You are nothing but food."
Declan feels Vince's parasitic control worm through his ears and seize hold of his brain, pulling at his strings like a puppet. Throbbing pain bursts behind his eye sockets, and his eyes glaze over until they're cloudy and unfocused.
"I am nothing but food, master," Declan robotically parrots the words. The voice that scratches through his throat doesn't even sound like his own. It's the first time he's properly spoken in weeks - Vince only likes to hear him scream. His vocal chords feel sore and swollen, fried to a crisp.
"You live to serve me."
"I live to serve you, master," Declan's voice breaks, tears well in his eyes. It's true. He'd admit all this were he not under the vampires influence. It still hurts to confess.
There's really no need to use persuasion on Declan. He complies every step of the way. Anything for a second of relief.
"Every breath you take is because I allow it."
Vince says that like it's a mercy. That allowing Declan to still live and breathe is a favour, and one that Declan could never repay. It feels like the cruelest torture Vince could ever inflict. Forcing Declan to live like this.
"Every breath I take is because you allow it, master."
Vince erupts into a fang-filled grin of glee, his eyes light up.
"I. Own. You."
Declan isn't human. He is food. He breathes to live, and he lives to serve his master. He is property - Vince's property. Vince owns him.
"You. Own. Me. Master", Declan croaks.
"Good," Vince huffs, leaning down to pat Declan on the head. "Now get on your knees. And you will repeat all you've just said until whenever I decide to finally tell you to stop," Vince commands.
