The Snow Cabin
Levi Holland

Chapter 5

There was no way we could wait. No way we could stop to check on Mom and Dad. The Wendigo was strong enough to nearly bash the cabin door from its hinges, intelligent enough to break through the window instead, and violent enough to kill. I shuddered as I recalled how the creature had ripped into Hank’s flesh with its face.

Luke and I jumped hand in hand over the edge of the steep snow embankment. We lost our footing and slid the rest of the way down our backs as we sped toward the edge. Earlier in the day, when Luke had nearly fallen over, I’d been there to catch him. But who would be there to catch us once we went over?

“Hang on!” I shouted, wrapping my arms around my brother.

“Hannah!” he screamed, and suddenly we were in free fall, nothing but cold, open space around us. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped Luke tighter as I prepared for the worst to come. We separated in mid air, and my breath exploded out from lungs in a painful rush as I landed on my back. Beside me, Luke groaned as his eyes fluttered open. Ignoring the tight pain in my ribs and chest, I pulled myself up on all fours and commanded my body to move. We’d been lucky our fall had been cushioned by the recent snow, but we weren’t out of danger yet. Far from it.

“Come on,” I told him, helping Luke to his feet. “We have to move. That thing is still close.”

“Where are we going?” he asked, his voice shaking as he kept turning his head behind him.

“Somewhere safe. I hope.”

Unfortunately for us, the steep incline and drop offs made it too dangerous to travel straight down. Instead we had to move laterally through the evergreens to create as much distance between us and the cabins as possible. Until we were at a safe distance, I didn’t want to use the flashlight on my phone and risk giving ourselves away. We moved as quickly as we dared, freezing in place and holding our breaths every time our boots crunched through the snow or snapped a thin tree branch.

“Hannah? What do we do about Mom and Dad?”

“Shhh,” I whispered to him gently. “Not now. We’ll talk later.”

Piercing through the somber quiet of the night, the Wendigo shrieked, raising every hair on my body. Our only comfort was that it sounded further away than before. If it was after us now, maybe it wouldn’t know which way we were going. My brain was a jumble of swirled up thoughts involving Mom and Dad. The creature. Why it had come for us. Keeping Luke safe. Survival.

I relied on instinct alone to get us to safety. If the Wendigo managed to find us, there was little we could do to protect ourselves. We were just two kids. Even Hank, who had a gun, wasn’t able to stop it. What hope did we have?

Moving through the dark, wintry air, tiptoeing across the snow to stay quiet, it became impossible to tell how much time had passed. All I knew was that we had to keep going forward, keep working our way down the mountain. Safety was all that mattered. Everything else could come later.

My thoughts were interrupted as Luke gave a sudden yelp, tripping into the rocky snow. I crouched down to check that he was alright, shivering as snow fell across the nape of my neck. Beneath the cover of the evergreens, we hadn’t been able to see much at all, but our eyes had definitely adjusted to the dark. I traced the outcropping of rock Luke had stumbled over and found the slim, darkened crevice of a cave opening tucked against the face of the mountain. With a bit of luck, it could offer us protection, at least until the morning when we could make our way safely into town. I helped Luke to his feet and told him to follow me.

We were scared, huddled together as we shuffled forward into the narrow mouth of the cave, leaving the harsh sting from the cold wind behind us. I’d always expected the inside of a cave to be echoey, but the noises we made were muffled as our hands slid along the rough, stone wall to guide us further inside. We both breathed a sigh of relief when the glow from Luke’s necklace vanished. It only meant we weren’t in immediate danger from being stalked and attacked, but it was a small win I would happily take.

I pulled my phone out and turned on the flashlight. The white light painted the cave in stark colors, but at least we could see. I still had about twenty percent of battery life with no reception whatsoever. If I was careful with how much I used, it might last us through the night.

The further we traveled inside the cave the more the mouth widened, and we soon came upon a large enough space to sit and think. The cave opening wasn’t large enough for anything like a bear to come through, but I was a bit spooked at the possibility of bats roosting.

“So, what now?” Luke asked.

“I…I don’t know,” I told him, at a loss for words and ideas. On one hand we could try sprinting like hell down the mountain, but the odds of us surviving that seemed grim. Option two was getting close enough to town to call the police, but if the Wendigo was still up there when they arrived, then I didn’t want to put anyone else in harm’s way. Not after Mom and Dad…

No, I didn’t want to think like that. There were no guarantees about anything yet.

“I want to go home,” he said dejectedly.

“We will,” I told him. “We’ll get out of this. We have to.”

As we sat slumped against the wall, I turned off the flashlight, leaving us in pitch black darkness. To help pass the time, I tried to get Luke thinking about good memories from our past. Dumb things like the time Sarah and I pretended to be pop stars and chased Luke around the house just to annoy him with our singing, or happy moments like the first time he found out he made the baseball team and how he told practically everyone he could when we went to celebrate. I wanted to keep him from being scared, and honestly, reliving some of our fondest memories helped me from being scared too.

Every so often I shined the flashlight to give us a chance to see each other’s faces. It was another reminder that we were both still here, that the darkness hadn’t swallowed us up yet. Things eventually got pretty quiet, though, and when I shined the flashlight next, Luke was dozing with his head against the cave wall. I was surprised he was able to sleep at all but happy that he could get some rest. It was going to be a long night.

As it was, I was feeling restless, so I stood carefully to my feet so I wouldn’t wake him. Luke’s necklace was on the cave floor so we could keep an eye on it. Even though we were safe for now, there was no way we were going back outside yet. Not until we had a plan—some way to get down the mountain safely. Instead, I stretched my legs and decided to explore the cave more. I was curious how deep inside the mountain the channel went. If nothing else, maybe I could find a sharp stone to protect us with. Something was better than nothing, after all.

I swept the light ahead of me, following the rough stone wall as it wrapped around a bend. At times it grew narrow like when Luke and I first entered the cave, but as I entered into one of its wider, open chambers, my jaw dropped. Displayed along the cave walls was a series of ancient paintings. Or at least, they looked like paintings. Most of their color had faded, but as I stepped closer, it was obvious these were intentional markings.

I found tiny drawings of stick people, some with dull yellow and brown streaks meant to resemble clothing. In the background were vague impressions of the surrounding mountains. The people must have been depictions of the early Algonquin people who lived here. These paintings could have been over two hundred years old by this point, maybe even three hundred! The more I saw the paintings, the more I realized they served as a history of their culture. Some of the images showed meals together, dancing around the flames, skinned furs from local wildlife, and so many aspects from their daily lives. One of the paintings displayed a large totem pole with an eagle’s head perched on top. I thought I recognized something like it from the cafe diner in town.

As I moved further along the old paintings, I saw a different theme emerge. There was an animal crouched among the homes of the Algonquin people, and some of the tribe members were on their hands and knees in worship. I raised my hand to my mouth as I recognized the unique symbol marked beside its head—the same one carved into the totem of wood attached to Luke’s necklace. In another painting, several members of the tribe held sharpened spears wrapped in cloth, with bursts of yellow, orange, and red fire coming from the tips. Their spears were pointed at the creature, who seemed to shy away from the flames. In the final image, the Algonquin village was shown with its warriors protecting the borders, their clothing now imbued with the symbol of warning against the Wendigo.

I ran back to where Luke was still snoozing against the cave wall and nudged him awake so he could see what I’d found. At first he panicked because he thought the Wendigo was close. That shifted to disappointment when he thought I wanted him to look at some dumb cave painting. When I finally dragged him with me and we reached the final paintings, the wheels were turning in his head.

“So they had a way to stop it,” Luke said, rubbing his fingers along the fiery spears. “But then why is it still alive?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe they only chased it away. Sounds like fire might be the key, though.”

“We don’t have fire.”

“Not here,” I agreed. “But maybe back at the cabin. Dad had his lighter, and then there’s the stove. It’s something, at least.”

Luke flicked his eyes back and forth between the paintings, and I thought he might be considering the idea, but he finally shook his head and exhaled. “Hannah, no, we can’t. The minute we’re spotted, we’re done for. I don’t want…I don’t want to end up like Mom and…”

I went to my brother, wrapping my arms around him in a hug as he choked on his words through his tears. I think we both knew in our hearts that there was no way either of our parents made it out of that house alive. Going back where that beast had been would certainly mean risking our lives, too. Was that worth it, the chance to avenge them? The chance to end a nightmare for the people of this town? Or was I too naive to think that we stood a chance at all? Luke cried against my chest, and for a while, I let him empty his tears. I had to be strong for him, at least until we were completely safe. The more I rested in that strength, the more I was determined that we could make a difference. We had what Mom and Dad didn’t: knowledge and the upper-hand. The necklace would be our warning sign when it was close, and with a bit of luck, we would have time to prepare. Plus, I think I was starting to connect the dots about why the Wendigo had come to our cabins.

Some time passed, and as Luke calmed down, I slowly pitched the idea I’d been working on to him. Of course he was totally against it. He began to panic the moment I explained what was on my mind. But I needed him onboard. Without him, I might crumble into nothing on the inside.

I gripped his arms through his coat as I leaned down in the darkness. “I need you, Luke. We can’t do this without each other.”

“But I’m so scared…” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I am, too,” I said. “It terrifies me, but I don’t want to spend another night knowing that thing is out there lurking around. That’s not living.”

Luke finally agreed to join me after I made him a promise: if on our way back the necklace warned us the Wendigo was close, we would abandon the plan altogether and flee down the mountain. He was right. It wasn’t worth endangering our lives senselessly. We had to be smart about how we carried on.

More than three hours had passed since we first fled from the cabins. It had taken us nearly an hour to escape on foot going downhill. It would take even longer to get back. There wasn’t much time to spare. If we waited too long, our window of opportunity would close. It was now or never.

After going over the plan once more, we prepared to leave. At the mouth of the cave, I took one last look back at this ancient Algonquin place. Whoever made these paintings would never know how they might have saved the lives of not just Luke and I, but plenty of others if we were successful. I wasn’t very spiritual or religious, but I prayed in that moment that if there were any altruistic forces out there, that they would be by our side.

It was utterly silent as we stepped out from the cave. The wind and snow had ceased, leaving the world feeling pristine and still. The darkness of the forest was off to our side, and my heart was a sledgehammer against my chest. Knowing we were headed straight towards the heart of danger, I inhaled a deep breath of the frigid night air, and we began our slow march back up the mountain.

The cabins came into view, nearly the same as when we left them.

It startled me at first to see headlights beaming off the snow, but then I remembered Hank had left his truck running when he started talking to Dad. Looking over to Mom and Dad’s cabin, a curtain flowed gently across the splintered window. All that was left was jagged glass and what remained of the windowsill. The front door had been barged open, but was still intact.

“You don’t have to come inside if you don’t want,” I told Luke. “You can always call me if the necklace starts to glow.”

“I…” he trailed off, staring at our parents’ cabin, likely imagining the horrid scene we would find when we stepped inside. “I’ll go with you. I don’t want to be alone out here.”

Double checking the necklace was dormant one last time, we took a steady breath and stepped out from the cover of the forest.

Hank’s body was missing. A smear of half-buried blood was the only sign of him. That, and the butt of his handgun sticking out from the snow. I carefully pulled it out, surprised by its weight in my hand. I didn’t know if I had it in me to fire a gun, but as Luke watched on, the protective side of me steeled itself in determination. I would do whatever it took to keep us safe. I tucked the gun safely in my waistband and switched off the keys to his truck so we wouldn’t be blinded by its headlights. In the truck bed, there was a locked toolbox and a small jug of gasoline for refueling cars in an emergency. Perfect.

“Let’s go,” I told him.

Thankfully we didn’t find either of our parents’ bodies. Similar to Hank, all we found were stains of dark blood across the wooden floor that led to the outside porch and down the steps.

“Try not to focus on it,” I said. “Remember why we’re here.”

And despite my advice, the inside of the house made not focusing on the damage impossible. The cabin looked like it’d been broken into: smashed furniture in disarray, items strewn about the compact living room, a toppled, broken lamp, a shredded curtain, a door hanging from its hinge. Fury didn’t begin to describe the rage spreading through my blood. It pumped through my veins in vicious, hateful pulses.

Luke tugged on the sleeve of my coat. “Hannah?”

I gritted my teeth, not trusting myself to speak, and instead pulled out my phone to check the time. Nearly 11:30. We had to move.

Luke and I began implementing our plan, gathering everything we needed into one place, in hopes that it would be enough. It’s hard to know exactly what was going through Luke’s mind as we worked, but I wondered if it was similar to how I felt. That if this was a suicide mission, and there was a very real chance it was, then at least we were going out doing something meaningful. Something worthwhile. Something that could make a difference.

Finally we had everything in place, and all that was left was to summon this goddamn demon from hell.

At first, I couldn’t figure out why the creature had come for us. Was it just our bad luck? Were we destined to have our lives cruelly upended? The more I put two and two together, the more I understood how we had brought our fate upon ourselves. We had set off the fireworks before anyone else in the town, created a commotion and pandemonium that for most forest creatures would scatter them away, but for the Wendigo, a creature that stalks and hunts down its prey, it was the perfect invitation.

Leaving Luke inside the house, I marched outside, stomping through the scarlet-splotched snow and over to the row of fireworks we had nabbed from the porch. Centered in the lot were five of the biggest tube launchers, the dangerous heavy-duty ones Dad had purchased. As I stooped down, I pulled out the box of matches we found in one of the kitchen drawers and struck a match against the red strip along the box’s edge. The phosphorus blazed at the tip, glowing like a small flare, and I set the burning match against the fuse. When the shell screamed into the air and detonated, the concussive boom rattled through the night, casting a hail of white hot sparks over the cabins.

I didn’t wait to light the second one and watched as it soared into the sky, creating a second exploding star above me. The force was thunderous in my chest, and immediately I launched a third. The more commotion, the better. I didn’t want to give the Wendigo time to get distracted between each burst, and time was of the essence. Even though the town had its own fireworks show earlier in the night, it was still New Year’s Eve. If midnight came before we had drawn the Wendigo’s attention, then someone else lighting their own fireworks nearby might bring about their own demise. We couldn’t let that happen. Not again.

I was about to light the fourth firework when Luke called my name from the open door of our parents’ cabin. He had the wooden totem in his hands, holding it out for me to see its glow. Good, that meant it was close. We had its attention. I gave Luke one last nod.

“Come and get us, you piece of shit,” I muttered and lit the fourth firework.

I held the burning match in my hand, ready to ignite the finale fuse, when I heard its shriek. Just like before, its high-pitched shrill sent shivers down my arms, but I knew what to expect now. We had prepared everything we could.

“Hannah?” Luke called.

“Go,” I told him. “Be ready.”

Reaching into my pocket, I withdrew one of the roman candle sticks and lit the fuse before standing to my feet. As each flare shot from its tip, I aimed them at the inky black forest ahead. The bulbs saturated everything around them in red before extinguishing itself in the snow. One of those times, I caught sight of two beady, glinting eyes watching from within the cover of darkness. Perfect.

“Come on! I’m right here! Come get me!”

The haunting wail screeched through the air again, and then the Wendigo started to charge. Every impulse in my body screamed at me to flee and run the other way, but that would mean abandoning Luke, and there was no coming back from that. Instead, I sprinted back up the porch steps, confident I could outrun it to the front door. A quick turn of my head showed the Wendigo had already crossed half the lot.

“Now, Luke!” I shouted as I grabbed the door handle and slammed it shut behind me. I snapped the lock in place as I heard the Wendigo’s long claws scrape against the porch and tear against the door. It would be only seconds before it remembered about the window, but that was just what we were waiting for.

In the tiny space that merged the kitchen area to the living room, Luke and I had assembled a small mountain of fireworks. Every single one we hadn’t used before was strapped together in a pile, waiting to be set off in a single, brilliant firestorm. This whole cabin would burn to the ground, the Wendigo along with it. We’d spent time arranging anything flammable around the fireworks, wanting it to catch in a sudden blaze. Luke had a string of gasoline-soaked sheets leading from our parents’ bedroom and into the pile. He crouched down with Dad’s lighter in his hands and ignited the switch with his thumb as I ran past him. The sheets caught flame immediately, the fire whooshing as it rushed down its length. At the same time, the Wendigo bashed through the remains of the window, disoriented as it landed in the living room. I slammed the door shut, and immediately we ran for the bedroom window which led behind their cabin.

That’s when the world exploded.

The blast deafened me, and despite the walls between us and the fireworks, there was a fierce rush of heat suddenly at our backs as Luke scrambled out the window. I quickly followed him, hitting the snow and moving quickly as firework after firework popped and whistled in quick succession. Already flames were devouring the edge of the cabin, licking along the sides as the fire spread.

Luke and I ran around the side of the cabin and made a beeline to Hank’s truck, taking cover as the fire continued to roar. The crackle of burning wood from inside only grew louder as the gasoline jug ignited, a new burst of flame blowing out the remaining windows of the cabin.

We couldn’t say anything as the cabin was consumed by the intense flames, only wait and watch for any sign of life.

As we stood from behind the truck, hopeful as the cabin burned before us, what we saw next made my blood run cold. We couldn’t see it at first, buried in the white-hot heat of the flames as we ran for cover, but now crawling sluggishly forward was undoubtedly the scorched body of the Wendigo. Its skin and fur were ablaze, being cooked alive by the fire, but still it moved.

“No!” I screamed, feeling a boldness sweep over me.

“Hannah, wait!” Luke shouted from the truck, but I kept on.

The fire was impossibly hot against my skin as I approached the burning cabin. I’d never experienced something this hot before—like my skin was melting as I faced the outpouring flames. I withdrew the handgun from my coat and aimed it at the burning body of the Wendigo, a fury and rage blooming in my chest as I pulled the trigger, again and again until it clicked empty repeatedly.

Even as its body grew still, I couldn’t unclench my fingers from the gun as hot tears streamed down my face. It was only when Luke pulled me away, collapsing together to the ground, that I finally came back to myself. As the cabin collapsed into flames, we sat there together in the snow, holding each other in our arms as we cried and cried until help arrived.

Misty Pines was a place we had been to only a few times over the years.

Starting over somewhere new sucked. It sucked even more how Mom and Dad weren’t here to help us through this. All Luke and I had were each other, and despite my Dad’s sister being willing to take us in, we felt like foreigners in their lives.

Aunt Lisa and Uncle Craig were nice enough, but every time either of us walked into the room, there was an uneasy tension present. They didn’t know how to comfort either of us, how to respond to our tragedy, how to handle two adolescents with normal problems on top of our unique ones, and I didn’t really want them to. At least their son, Tommy, was more oblivious to it all. In the way only a nine-year-old can, he was able to quickly move past only seeing us as the two kids whose parents were dead.

That made things easier, especially for Luke, who in some ways picked up a younger brother to look after. Tommy was someone who could help keep Luke’s mind from the mountain, especially on the dark days. I think the thing that kept us from shattering was not witnessing the moment our parents passed. That and being able to end the nightmare. There was closure in that. Luke still carried the necklace with him everywhere he went, and at times we found ourselves watching it, just to make sure it never glowed again.

When the funerals came, we held them together in a closed casket service. Their bodies couldn’t be recovered, either lost or buried in those cold mountains, but it hurt less to imagine my parents tucked safely inside their coffins. Intact. Whole.

Aunt Lisa read out Dad’s eulogy, telling anecdotes from when they were children growing up in Misty Pines. When it was time for Mom’s eulogy, Grandma stood by Grandpa’s side as he read it aloud, both broken by the loss of their only child. After that, I didn’t remember much—I checked out mentally, wanting the day to be over and done with, to get away from the funeral home, and back to our lives. But none of that was possible now. The service ended, the caskets were brought to their plots and lowered in the ground, and soon we were back at Aunt Lisa’s place, two living reminders of two dead ones.

A week out from the funerals, Luke and I were still adjusting to life with our new family. After an exhausting day of pretend smiles and helping around the house where I could, I tossed in bed, unable to sleep. My aunt and uncle were in the process of converting the guest bedroom into a place of my own. Right now the room felt cold and empty—the white, barren walls surrounding me like a frozen wasteland.

My mind was stuck reliving that terrible night. After the ambulances came, they treated us for minor burns. There was discussion about taking us to the local hospital, but other than the shock, we were unharmed. Once the fire had been put out, the same EMS team that helped us then routinely draped a white cloth over the corpse of the Wendigo. What would become of it, we had no clue.

We tried to explain what had happened to the officer who took our statement, but he silenced us with somber eyes and a sympathetic smile. Officially, it was easier to believe in a deranged killer than what many long-standing members of the town knew to be true. Hank would become their scapegoat, as others had in the past, only this time, he would be their last. Luke clutched on to his necklace while the officer explained what had to be done, showing us his own totem hanging from his neck as he explained.

I shook my head to clear the thoughts from that night. Dwelling on what I couldn’t understand—couldn’t explain—was never going to help me be at peace. Even restless nights spent researching the Wendigo hadn’t brought me any comfort. I kept hoping for a mystery when there was none, kept searching for meaning in our suffering.

On Monday, we would start our first day at Misty Pines middle. Aunt Lisa tried to convince us how nice it would be to have a fresh start, where no one would know about our…situation. I knew what she meant, but it still made us feel like an inconvenience.

Dragging my fingers through my hair in frustration, I finally pulled out my phone and texted Luke, who was upstairs on a sleeper mattress in Tommy’s room.

You awake? I asked.

Yeah, can’t sleep.

Me neither. Tommy asleep?

Yes. He snores. I actually laughed a little, imagining the high-pitched sounds of our nine-year-old cousin snoring.

You nervous about school?

A little, he texted back. Going back to school’s gonna feel weird.

I know. I’m nervous, too. Remember though, I’ll be there too. We have each other.

I know 🙂 And then after a few moments, Can I come down?

Sure, come on.

In a few minutes, a soft knock rapped against the door, and Luke stuck his head in. He was shirtless and wore only a pair of pajama pants as he walked barefoot across the floor and crawled into the twin bed with me. He shuffled back against me as I folded my arm protectively over him. We laid together in silence for some time as I listened to his soft breathing.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?” I whispered.

“Tch, for what?”

“For being so brave even though we were both terrified. For how you help look after Tommy. For being my brother.”

“Do you think anything will ever feel normal again?” he asked.

The thoughts plaguing my mind were agonizing. The trauma of what we’d been through, the lack of answers, the abrupt nature of moving to Aunt Lisa’s, being put up in an unfamiliar home, and the suffocating feeling of claustrophobia. But like before, I chose to be strong for Luke. I would always be the one to protect and look out for him, now more than ever.

“Some things are different now,” I said. “I think they always will be. But not us. We’re still here.”

He rolled on his back and faced me. Tonight was the first chance he and I had been able to spend time alone. The past week had been a whirlwind of events and emotions, and during the day, we were constantly surrounded by people. Here, now and together, it felt like I could actually breathe.

We leaned in to kiss each other, softly at first, as if remembering how our lips were supposed to fit together. Luke’s hand reached for the back of my head and our lips mushed against each other, fighting passionately as we took small, gasping breaths through our mouths and noses. It wasn’t long before his hand moved beneath my night shirt, rubbing my bare breast against the warmth of his palm as he gently squeezed. I traced my fingernails along his chest, satisfied at his gasp as my nails danced over his tiny, hardened nipples.

Luke surprised me then by slipping his tongue past my lips, and soon we were exploring each other’s mouths, our saliva mixing and swapping between us as our tongues battled. Luke’s bumpy braces against my tongue was incredible. There was a strange pervasiveness and vulnerability to having someone else inside my mouth and being in theirs, and it reminded me of when I had given Luke a blowjob in the shower.

I groaned as we kissed and couldn’t keep my hand from trailing down his chest, rolling across his small abs before wrapping around his clothed, hard penis. He broke away from the kiss all at once and tensed as his penis twitched in my grasp. His eyes fluttered closed as he suppressed a groan. Even though the wetness of his cum hadn’t soaked through yet, his pajama bottoms suddenly slid around with no traction where my hand pressed against his jumping penis.

“Already?” I asked, surprised he came so soon.

“It’s just…I haven’t done it, since…you know.”

“Oh,” I said, a fierce blush tearing through me as my pussy had a mild spasm. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” he said, catching his breath. “Can we kiss some more?”

We did, but first I removed my shirt, tossing it to the side as I straddled Luke’s hips in just my panties. As I leaned over and made out with him, I ground my hips against his groin, never giving him the chance to grow soft beneath me as our bare chests squished together. The thin tube of his erection was pressed squarely between my outer lips, and occasionally I rolled my hips, pressing the tip against my sensitive clit.

Luke’s hand groped my breasts as we dry humped against each other, and I kissed lovingly at the inside of his neck, working my way down as he squirmed beneath me.

“Can I see all of you?” he asked.

I nodded and rolled off him long enough to pull down my panties while he kicked off the legs of his pajama pants. This time as we lay against each other, the juices from his clear emission smeared against my groin as I wriggled my cunt against his steely penis. Not for the first time I wondered what it would be like to have a boy inside me, to feel the thrusts of something other than my fingers. I knew I could get myself to orgasm pretty quickly if I wanted, but tonight I needed something deeper, more meaningful.

When I raised my hips away from Luke, a look of disappointment crossed his face until I reached down to lift his erection. A smeary string of cum pulled away with it, and he gasped as I positioned the tip against my parting entrance.

“I need you inside me,” I said in arousal.

“But…but I’ve never…”

“Me neither,” I reminded him. “But with everything we’ve been through, you have to be my first, Luke. You’re everything to me.”

He nodded hesitantly, unable to tear his eyes from where the tip of his penis met the opening of my vagina. Once we did this, we were bonded forever. I took one last breath before relaxing and lowering myself around his penis. The feeling of being stretched took my breath away. Luke’s penis was thicker than any of my fingers, and much deeper than I’d ever been able to reach before. I bottomed out against his pubic region, his few stringy hairs mixing with mine.

“Aaahh,” Luke started to moan loudly as he shuddered, but I quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. My aunt and uncle slept upstairs along with Tommy, but I wasn’t sure how the sound might carry through their home. I raised a finger to my lips as I smiled, and his penis lurched inside me.

“It’s intense,” I told him, feeling my vagina ripple around his dick as I grew wetter and wetter.

“It’s…oh man, it’s incredible,” he whispered. “I can’t believe we’re really having sex.”

“I’m gonna start moving,” I told him. As I lifted my hips, the inside of my pussy dragged along his dick, and Luke thrust against me, sending hot sparks of pleasure through my body. My clit was itching with need as I rubbed alongside it and lowered myself back down, hearing my juices squelch around his cock. As I teased my clit, Luke’s hands returned to my breasts, kneading them as I rode up and down his four-inch length.

“Gonna cum again,” he panted, giving me warning. I subconsciously wrestled with the fact of letting him cum in me or not. He was making semen, but it was tough to tell if there was any sperm inside. I wasn’t sure when boys started making it, and honestly, I didn’t really care if I wound up getting pregnant. I could always lie to my aunt and uncle and explain that it happened before our trip.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “You can cum inside me.” I was sweating as I flicked my clit with my thumb and rode atop of Luke. As he continued massaging my breasts in his hands, Luke’s body tensed up as he came. He pinched back a tiny, high-pitched whine and froze as his penis started twitching inside me, shooting whatever meager cum still remained to mix with my juices. I may have imagined it, but it felt like something warm and runny was being left within me.

My orgasm came not too long after, my vagina squeezing Luke’s erection as it flexed repeatedly, no doubt squirting juices all over the end of his penis. When I came down from the orgasmic high, it took a moment to reorient myself, even though I knew exactly where I was. I carefully slid from his length, surprised when a little of our mixed cum came dripping out on his groin. He played with it using his fingers while I rested beside him, catching my breath.

“Wow, I can’t believe we’re not virgins anymore,” he whispered in awe. “I’m glad it was with you, Hannah.”

He took my hand in his, interlocking our fingers, and even though I thought it was a little gross to feel our cum on his hand, I loved my brother and happily gripped his hand tight.

“We’re gonna be okay,” I told him. “We’re survivors, you and I.”

“I love you,” he said, resting his other hand gently on my chest, not so much against my breast, but against where my heart was beating, reminding us we were alive. Ready to face whatever adventure came next. Together.

“I love you, too,” I told him, kissing him gently on the lips before the two of us fell asleep together in each other’s arms.

The End

Copyright 2023 – Levi Holland
All rights reserved

Well, that is that. To be honest, when this story began, it was with the mental image of two young siblings sharing a cabin together in the mountains, and it unintentionally and delightfully evolved into my second novella. Coming in at nearly 29,000 words in total, it’s nearly as long as my first published story, A Dream of Darkness.

I’m pretty proud of myself overall with how things turned out, and I’m glad I was able to see the story through to the end. I hope the romantic payoff felt satisfactory and earned, and whatever future you imagine these two in, I hope it’s one of a loving, positive relationship. To the readers out there who have sent such encouraging messages of support along the way, and to the new friends I’ve made, these stories really are for you. A story for myself is one thing, but a story that brings a bit of joy to others is another thing entirely. Until next time,