Page 36 of Justyce
Acheron likes it rough, but he also likes it consensual, well, most of the time, but that’s a story for a different day. These fucks have another thing coming if they think they can handle the women and get away with it.
Since us four have taken over seeing to the women and prepping them, because our parents no longer want to deal with the messier side of things, we’ve altered things so to speak. Unfortunately none of us have the capacity or power to end this fucked up trafficking ring, yet. However, we’ve made certain the girls are looked after while they’re here, and we try to find them half decent owners. Sometimes we don’t have that luxury and a girl will fall through the cracks, finding themselves with evil sadistic fucks that’ll beat them to a pulp then kill them when their use by dates are up. Our fathers don’t know we’re trying to rectify their fucked up debasement, and they never will.
The violent hiss of my blood pounds in my skull, and I’m thankful my brothers came to me so I could execute these motherfuckers, along with a little bit of my beast’s madness.
“Are they down there now?” I demand.
“Yeah, they are,” Arrow announces, jaw clenching when the words spill from his mouth.
“Let’s do this. Do you have any tools downstairs or do we need to stock up before we head down?”
“We just need to grab our masks. Everything else is downstairs. I was thinking we could lure them to the back end of the dungeons where it’s dark and creepy as fuck,” Acheron says, a sinister smile gripping his lips.
I smile back at them as an idea sparks in my mind. “Do you know which women he touched? Perhaps they could have a front row seat and see what happens to men who touch what doesn’t belong to them,” I say, the mania pumping venomously inside of me.
I need to send a message to every guard who’s on our payroll reminding them that they’re not excused or exempt from fucking with women who aren’t theirs, for touching what they said they wouldn’t when they signed that fucking contract. It’s the only peace of mind we can offer these women and men for the moment.
“Of course. I’ll ask, but I think we need to make an example of them and show the rest of the guards what happens when someone doesn’t follow orders,” Arrow smirks.
“Agreed. Arrow, you head down there now and speak to the women who were abused. Ask them if they’d like to be privy to such an act. Acheron, lure those pieces of shit to the back end of the floor so we can nail their dicks to the wall. Actually, bring a couple of different guards down as well, this way they can relay the message not to fuck with the Sons of Tartarus.”
Acheron and Arrow stand up with smirks on their faces, nodding as I finish the last of my whiskey. We may not be related or tied by blood, but these men are my brothers, more family than my own fucking father. When the door slams to the office I know I’m alone. Slowly I walk toward the lounge where my mask sits. As soon as it comes into view, a sense of ease washes over me, knowing I’m about to bloody some fuckwits up. And if there’s any indication that I’m excited, no one would know, but fuck oath I am.
Slipping the mask onto my face, I breathe in the familiar scent I’ve become accustomed to and head out of the office and down the staircase. When I reach the bottom, I step to the left where there’s another secret door that leads down to the lower tier of the establishment, the section where the trafficking begins and ends.
I shudder. I fucking hate this place almost as much as I hate my father, and that’s saying a shit load. The shivers race down my spine as I step onto the cold steel stairs that lead me to a prison filled with melancholy and pain.
These women and men never had a say, and the majority of them come from a place that’ll never even realize they were once a part of this world. Avernus, Acheron’s father does his job diligently. He’s employed men who will do his dirty work and do it well. So when he barks the order that they’re never to be missed by anyone, that’s exactly what his pets do, scampering behind him like mangy mutts scraping for a bone.
Those men are ripped to the shithouse, but they have the brain the size of a fucking pea, and the dick to go with it. I laugh quietly to myself as I reach the last couple of steps and the steel door comes into view.
Shaking the humor of their small dicks from my head, I punch the code in beside the door and wait for it to open then step through. The impenetrable door slams behind me with a loud thud. I attempt to assuage the goosebumps peppering my skin by instead dousing it with adrenaline at the thought of shredding these guys apart in front of my brothers and whoever else is around to witness my wrath.
I ignore the whimpers from behind the closed doors that I pass, even when those cries twist the dagger in my gut just a little more. I’m a monster, there is no doubt about it, but if I could free these slaves with no repercussion, I would. Alas, it’s not that easy. Hell, my life has never been that easy.
I straighten my spine, issuing a tight nod to a few of the guards that I know and trust, and stalk down the long cold corridor toward the end of this pitiful dungeon.
For a brief moment my thoughts fly to Kenzi, but I push them aside because I can’t be thinking of that vixen when I need to be on my A game. If only she’d submit to me, then I could revel in the feeling of her tight muscles strangling my cock.
I cough to clear my throat and clear the lechery induced thoughts that I always seem to have when I think of my her. This isn’t about my dick, so I need to pull my head from my ass and get my shit together.
My black shoes click against the concrete floor as the corridor rounds to the left, and my adrenaline spikes that little bit more, knowing I’m only seconds away from inflicting pain onto these pathetic excuses of men.
My mask molds to my face perfectly and I feel the old magic seep inside, intoxicating my senses and my flesh. I’m hungry, and it sure as fuck isn’t for food.
My ears prick up at the sound of pleading masculine voices that sound like nothing but bitches whining. It only entices the beast inside of me more.
My mouth kicks up at the sides and I know if anyone could see the smile on my face right now, they’d cower. The rickety wooden door comes into view and I feel myself harden just a little bit.
I step over the threshold of the dimly lit room and smirk at my brothers. I take in both their masks and can’t help thinking Acheron’s has always creeped me out the most.
The silver scar basically replicates his scar from his clavicle to his jaw, although this one curves the jaw up into a joker like smile: jagged and ugly oozing metallic red blood against the cherry black mask. It’s topped with an upside down cross at the crown.
Arrow’s cognac eyes catch mine from behind his dark metallic blue mask. The crimson sickening smile is no doubt mirroring the one hidden behind his mask right now. The flesh of the mask looks dimpled and rippled, kind of like scar tissue and I know without a doubt it represents the scars he keeps hidden beneath his clothes or the ones he’s covered up with ink.
My eyes deviate from Arrow’s and I lean on the door frame to look at the men, no boys. They have their arms shackled above their heads and their black guard uniforms are disheveled and torn. The light globe sways from side to side above them like you’d see in a horror movie, and it only adds to the atmosphere. I can’t recall their names, and soon it won’t matter because they will be nameless and at the bottom of the sea being fed off by sharks and other sea creatures, no doubt.
Fear. That’s what the room smells like. The one with the red hair notices me first. His brown eyes bug wide as he tries to hunch over. He looks like he’s in pain. I have no doubt it’s from Acheron or Arrow kicking him in the ribs. His eyes dart from me to my brothers, accentuating the shiner that his left eye now displays, and it isn’t nearly enough for what this fuckwit has done. I ignore him for the moment and take in the rest of the people in the room.
