Page 40 of Darkest Descent

Hunter positioned the phone, so the camera was on the three of us, using the old mattress as a stand. Then he stripped his clothes away, the sound of fabric falling to the floor making me want to whimper. What was he about to do? I hated how little control I had here. Things had twisted. This wasn’t the plan. Alice wasn’t here to pull him back.

He settled behind her and yanked her body to his with rough claws on her thighs. “Watch me fuck their dead bodies, daddio,” Hunter said, and my heart lurched. “What’s the worst thing you can do to a dead body?” His breathing hitched as he pushed himself inside Alice. The slapping of skin filling the air as he drove into her. “I could chop them up and send them to you. Bake them into a fucking pie and force you to eat them.”

“You depraved, desperate little monster!” Dad screamed down the phone, and I heard other voices coming through, panicked and confused. It might have been Mom checking in on him, but he shouted something and a door slammed.

“You think they aren’t dead!?” Hunter bellowed, his thrusts into Alice like a demon. Still, she didn’t react. Her eyes watched me, empty and vacant, as he shoved her back onto himself, using her as a cock sleeve.

Dad continued to yell and threaten Hunter as he was forced to watch his children fucking. Watch what he thought was his oldest son raping his dead daughter. My mind was a haze, and I wasn’t sure if that’s what I was witnessing too. It hurt. The fog from the drug, the confusion, the fear she might actually be dead.

Hunter leaned over her body and lifted her head up by her hair. Her grayish face hung slack for the camera. “Fucking a corpse isn’t the thrill you’d think,” he growled. “She’s too cold.”

Dad shouted more profanities when Hunter dropped Alice’s head, laughing when it thunked to the floor. Her nose began to bleed, which made me panic. Dead bodies don’t bleed.

But Hunter was ahead of me, withdrawing from her and climbing over her to grab his phone, holding it close to his face as he moved behind me.

“You can watch me slide into your darling son now, something you never got to do,” Hunter goaded, settling between my open legs. It took everything in me not to twitch as he probed my hole with his wet finger. “You were priming him, weren’t you? He told me, you know.”

“You fucking bastard, I’m going to rip you to pieces!”

Hunter laughed. “And how will you manage that in your wheelchair?” he pushed. “They shared that with me too! That you’re on death’s fucking door. Getting a bit of fresh air, old man? Enjoying a push through the garden before you start your time in the pits of hell?”

My world turned dark as he forced his hard cock inside my ass, the only lube coming from Alice’s pussy. It burned, ached, made me want to claw at the floor and scream, but the sedatives fogged everything over. My mind faded away. The room fell into a new dimension, and all that existed was the sound of Hunter’s hips smacking against my ass cheeks, the pain in my heart that he’d disregarded us with such ease when his anger took over.

I was incapable of hearing what he was saying to our father, incapable of hearing the sound coming from the phone’s speakers. But I hurt. Fear raced through my veins and my mind, trying to make sense of the sensations and sounds.

After what seemed like hours, but could have just been a minute, Hunter grunted and fell out of rhythm above me. “He was a little warmer,” he told Dad. “Only just died before I called. Took longer for the drugs to stop his heart.”

“I’m going to end your life, disgusting boy,” Dad’s voice came through, though it was thinner now, like Hunter might have actually gotten to him. At fucking last.

But what was the cost?

Hunter had taken it further than agreed. Taken from us. Again.

“Good luck trying,” Hunter said. Then I heard the beep of the call hanging up.

Not a moment passed before Hunter was at our heads, rolling us over, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, stroking my cheek, tugging Alice’s body onto the mattress, soothing the red marks and bruises forming on our bodies. “I’m so sorry.”

26

Alice

Hate and need were a strange thing. Especially when twisted up together.

Our father thought we’d died, so there was no more pressure. Nothing on the outside to manipulate us anymore. Hunter wasn’t sending any more videos. He wasn’t goading and teasing the man to try to get a reaction. He was doing nothing. Since he lost it on us again in the basement, shoving his way into both our bodies without consent, something in him had changed. When I’d woken in pain, unaware of what happened while I was drugged, it was to confusion. Neither man was forthcoming until I demanded answers.

I’d been furious at him when I learned what happened, what he’d done, but that fury didn’t linger for long. Though it sickened me, I understood why he did it, and I would have consented had I been conscious. It didn’t make it right, but nothing about this was right, anyway. I don’t know what that said for my own self-respect, but I didn’t have it in me to care that he’d fucked me without permission after all that had already happened between us. It was another trauma for the list. His ownership over my body was no longer a question.

Asher told me Hunter was distraught almost the second the call ended, and he cried, holding our prone bodies to his chest with whimpering apologies and promises to make it right. He carried us both to his bed, tucked us under his covers and disappeared, leaving us surrounded by his scent, his aura, but not him. I was a little resentful to have not seen Hunter weak like that, pleading and sad, but Asher assured me it wasn’t something worth seeing.

When the drugs were out of our system, my twin and I climbed from the bed, washed and dressed, checked over bodies - sore nose, ass and vagina, then went to find our older brother, worried for him. He didn’t know I forgave him, that it was okay. We had to get through this in whatever fashion we could, and the healing could come after.

We found him in the basement, staring at the stained spot in the center of the room, his knees hugged to his chest and a forlorn expression on his face. He looked lost in thought, and even as we approached, he reacted only a little, twitching at the sound of our voices, but not looking up.

So we left him there for the rest of the night, unsure how to process the emotions ourselves. Asher and I spoke about how fucked up we were, and about how much we missed him being at our side. It was strange in the bed without him, without the third part of our messed up trio. So as the clock ticked to almost 4am, with neither of us asleep, we decided to force it. Grab him with as much care as he gives us and yank him from his funk, force him out of the basement. He needed to apologize again. To explain himself. We needed to tell him it was okay.

We had too much shit to deal with to let him wallow. There was no time for selfish despair. Not yet.

The basement stairs were shadowy as we traveled down them, Asher a few steps in front of me. The door was open at the bottom, and no light came through there to help us along. Hunter was either asleep, or still sitting in the dark, feeling sorry for himself.

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