Darkest Descent

22. 22

22

Asher

We left the basement once all our legs worked, and we were all cried out. No victims, no captives or kidnappers, no one tied up. Hunter showed us how to leave, gave us the password and handed back our phones, our bags. He told me he was done acting like our father, and that he regretted nothing because now we were together. He’d achieved his goals, lost an eye in the process, but done what he had set out to do.

When I looked at him, I didn’t see the man who’d tortured me and Alice. I saw my dad; I saw Hunter as his hand, his weapon. Everything inflicted upon me had come from my dad’s mind, and when I thought back on it, it was his hands I imagined. Not Hunter’s. It was an extension of what our father had already done to me. The way he’d forced me to my knees and shoved his dirty cock into my mouth. It never went further than that. Only words and pain, degradation and threats. He made me feel like I had to, promised me it would be Alice if not. It was easier to let it happen until I could get us away. College had been the reprieve. Until Hunter took us.

There was a lot of healing that needed to begin between us. The shock and hurt of discovery, of reliving how he’d tortured us, would be hard to overcome. But there was a newfound respect, camaraderie. The worst way to bond, in blood and depravity. But we had.

I knew it flowed between the three of us, this pain and terror we’d all caused each other. Hunter was the most to blame, but he was also the most damaged. Bruised and broken since he was a child. Raised unwanted, abused and used. Who could possibly expect him to be normal?

We were all quiet, exhaustion and shock dragging our limbs, but we stayed together, a trio of fragmented bodies unable to stop touching.

Hunter took us to his bedroom, not the one from before, but a larger space, with a view of a forest and an en suite bathroom. The natural daylight made me blink in surprise at it. It was the middle of the damned day. I knew when Al and I had walked back down to the basement, having showered, slept and eaten, that it was morning, but it didn’t seem possible that something so harrowing could take place in anything but the pits of nighttime.

“Here,” Hunter muttered, turning on the shower and holding his hand under it as the water warmed. It was a larger one, a walk in with space for two, three if we squashed. And silently, none of us wanted to be separated.

I stripped my clothing off first, discarding the joggers and t-shirt I’d stolen from Hunter on the floor, before pivoting to my sister and lifting her tank top from the waist, encouraging her to raise her arms. Her eyes were wide and expression open, and I watched acceptance tick over, flood through. She pulled her clothes away and stood before me, naked. Hunter already was.

“You two…” he sighed. “Fuck.”

We both turned to him. “Whatever you tried to do to us, it worked,” I told him, unable to resist touching Alice’s lower back, tugging her closer to me. “And I can’t wait to show my father that he lost.”

Hunter didn’t appear surprised at all. If anything, he smirked. Even with his eye bandaged and his body covered in bruises and dirt, that aura around him remained, cockiness, confidence. I don’t think he had it in him to be a true submissive. He was being patient, quiet, but still commanding the space. Despite the shame of being defeated, he looked proud, moved with grace even at his size. He was stunning, all muscle and bulk, but graceful, powerful. His thighs and ass muscles rippling under his skin as he stepped under the hot spray, uncaring that the bandage on his face soaked through.

Though I’d never considered a relationship with a man, I’d never considered one with my sister, either. I liked men, watching them, imagining them, even enjoying some gay porn. The power under their skin, the idea of being dominated and ravaged. He’d given me that. Without a lick of consent, but he had. Hindsight was an interesting thing, and fuck, but I didn’t compare him to my father. Looking back on both men and how they abused my bodies, I understood Hunter. I shook my head at how twisted that made me, and felt the urge to give myself a slap and a wake up call. But looking at him… my big brother, my half sibling, there was just no hate.

When I thought about the torture he’d lain on Alice, it made my body shudder, but she was walking up beside him, stroking his naked back and resting her head on his shoulder. She didn’t look like she hated him for it. Nor pitied him. There was no tension in the way they gaze at each other, only understanding. I knew Alice. Could always tell when she was pissed or hiding things, and that wasn’t happening here.

“Ash?” she called, and when I glanced at her, there was that flicker of apprehension. But it wasn’t about Hunter. No, she was worried about me .

I joined them under the spray, almost scalding my skin as the boiling stream hammered against me. It took nothing to press my body to theirs, to feel the heat of the water washing away our sins. I laughed at that thought, that a bit of water could fix us all.

But we soaped each other up, touching everywhere, gentle and tentative, like we were relearning everything. Hunter ran his hands up and down my sudsy cock, cupping and squeezing my balls until my shaft hardened. Alice played with my ass cheeks, kissing my shoulders and laughing when I groaned. Hunter and I together cleaned her, starting at her feet and working our way up to her hair. He kissed me when our hands met amongst the shampoo.

Alice used a wash cloth to clean the injury in Hunter’s eye, dabbing the weeping fluid away. She hadn’t stabbed the needle right through his eyeball, something I was grateful for now, but it was covered in scratches, red and angry. Maybe he’d regain some vision, maybe he wouldn’t. Time would tell. Maybe a doctor.

There were no apologies amongst us, that would need to come with healing. Instead, we kissed and touched each other. Expressed guilt and anguish through the sliding of skin on skin, or the lingering of a gaze.

We toweled each other off and walked over to the bed, the midday sun gleaming through the window. I couldn’t wait to get out there, to breathe the fresh air and enjoy the wind on my skin. But I was exhausted, so were they. We needed to sleep, to reset, to awaken together and face the future coming at us as a trio.

Because I had no desire to stop.

Now that no one was forcing me to fuck Alice, I still wanted to. The time in the shower when I’d slid into her willing body and kissed her senseless, no one had made us do that. And it had been perfect. I was beyond caring. It didn’t make me feel sick, didn’t make me hate myself, or her, or Hunter. No. I craved both of my siblings, full-blooded and raw. And I knew they wanted me, too.

Alice whimpered, and I woke, dragged from a dreamless sleep by her soft cry. As I moved, the body on the other side of her did, too.

“Does she have nightmares often?” Hunter murmured, his brow furrowed as he looked down at her. She was thrashing, rocking side to side, her face contorted in concern as she muttered nonsensical words. “She didn’t in the basement.”

I shook my head, pushing away the irritation that he’d been watching us sleep down there, that the camera theory was correct. “No, neither of us do. Never really dream, either.” I paused, stroked her cheek. “At least we don’t remember them.”

“Same,” Hunter replied, ducking his head so his eyes fell out of the moonlight, shrouding his expression.

As I tried to soothe Alice, I couldn’t take my gaze off him. “I can’t believe you’re our big brother.”

“That was always going to be my final reveal, the grand twist at the end of all the torture. I wanted you sick.” He paused. “But the way you two reacted to each other threw me off. It wasn’t sick at all. You’re beautiful.”

“You called me your beautiful boy,” I remembered, as if a fog was lifting. “Was that all part of the game, too?”

He shrugged. “Maybe at first,” he admitted. “I showed your reaction to Dad and hoped it would make him pop a vein in his neck, have a fucking aneurism or some shit. But he just never fucking cared.”

“He’s sick,” I told him. “He won’t admit it, but I think he’s dying. He had a heart attack a few years ago and never truly recovered. The last time we visited home he barely moved, had a blanket over his bottom half like he was hiding something. Alice wouldn’t talk about it.”

“He wasn’t as evil to her,” Hunter reminded me, running his thumb down our sister’s neck, pausing at her carotid but not pressing down, just observing her pulse. She was calming now, both our hands on her, cooling whatever fire was raging in her mind.

“C-Can we…” My words trailed off, my hand stopping to rest at the top of the sheet covering her naked body.

A flash of Hunter’s wickedness, his dominating personality, leaked through in the way he smirked. “You want to make our sister come?” he asked. “Think that will settle her?”

“I think it’s the least we can do. After all she was put through,” I snapped back, slipping my fingers along her skin, past her tits and south, towards her pussy.

Hunter’s hand joined mine, and together we found her warmth, wet and inviting, her legs already a little splayed open. It took only a nudge to have her widen, even in her sleepy state.

“I’ll never find a way to stop the guilt for what I’ve done to you two,” Hunter admitted, surprising me. He hadn’t shown any remorse for his actions. In fact, he almost seemed incapable. “But I’m going to try. I’m going to fucking try.”

Two of his fingers plunged into Alice’s pussy, brushing past mine. She moaned, her eyelids fluttering.

“Each time I took it further, I hated myself. But I went deeper, hoping it would finally be enough to get a reaction from him.” He pumped in and out of Alice’s pussy, a sloppy, wet sound filling the quiet air.

I pushed a finger in alongside his, and Alice woke with a gasp.