The Night of the Monsters - Chapter 19 (M)

“Sniff…”

In a dark room where it was impossible to tell whether it was morning or night because the curtains were drawn, Giselle sobbed as she clawed at her widened vaginal opening, now large enough to easily fit four fingers.

No matter how much she tried to scoop it out, the semen kept flowing. The bed was already a mess, covered in white clumps.

As she repeated the action, the door suddenly opened without warning, letting light spill into the room. Reflexively, Giselle grabbed the sheets to cover her body. Ian, carrying a simple meal, smiled with his eyes.

“Did you sleep well, Giselle?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, revealing her stark fear. Ian, despite clearly noticing this, approached Giselle with a casual expression. His vividly shining blue eyes alternated between the dirty sheets and her hands, caked with white residue.

“After I went to the trouble of filling you up, you emptied it all out again? Even though you said you wanted a baby.”

“N-no, I… I didn’t ask for this… Sob…”

“I don’t know why the effects of the drug wear off after just one day. I’ve told you over and over again: asking to be impregnated, begging for more pleasure—it’s all your true feelings, Giselle.”

Sitting by the bedside, Ian scooped a bit of the thin stew he brought and brought it to Giselle’s lips.

She knew that everything entering her mouth was laced with drugs, yet she couldn’t refuse. Ian had said she didn’t have to eat if she didn’t want to, but if she truly stopped eating, Hugo and Ian would also refuse to take a single sip of water. It was a clever and cowardly tactic. For Giselle, her brothers’ well-being mattered more than her own safety.

So even though she had seen Ian mixing drugs into the food right in front of her, she had no choice but to put it into her mouth.

It had been ten days since she learned the truth. She was still engaging in carnal acts with the brothers—more frequently than before, and not just in the bedroom, but in the bathroom, the dining room, and even outdoors. Without a doubt, today would be the same…

Silently shedding tears, Giselle opened her mouth. There was no need to hide it anymore. Each time the herb-laced stew slid down her throat, she felt a deep urge to retch. At first, she had struggled to swallow even plain water, but even then, Ian had smiled and told her he would wait until she could eat.

Although she couldn’t finish the entire bowl, this much was enough. Ian set the dish aside and gently rubbed her swollen, irritated eyes with his cool hand.

“You cry so much, morning and night, that the swelling never goes down.”

“…”

“You’re not going to ask today? Why are you doing this to me?”

Tears welled up again, and Giselle lowered her head. She couldn’t bear to hear the same answer again and again: “Because you were planning to abandon us.” She no longer wanted to hear those words.

The hand that had been touching her cheeks and the corners of her eyes moved to her ears. As he pushed her disheveled hair back, Ian muttered softly.

“You said it was for our sake, Giselle, but… well, I don’t think this is really for my brother and me.”

“…Please, stop, Ian. Let’s end this. I’ll stay with you. I’ll stay, so…”

“Yes, we have to stay together. But ending this isn’t an option. Going back to how things used to be is impossible anyway. You know that as well, don’t you?”

To the brothers, Giselle was a teacher—but she couldn’t be their mother or their sister. However, what Giselle longed for was likely to return to the past, where she had been their teacher, their mother, and their sister. Though stepping away from the teacher-student relationship would no longer be socially condemnable, Giselle, who had always ambiguously yearned for the lives of others, could only see all this as depravity.

Ian smiled as he looked down at her small, trembling shoulders as she cried.

“I’ll wait until you feel the same way we do, Giselle. There’s plenty of time. But my brother isn’t very patient, so don’t make him wait too long.”

They had no intention of convincing her or winning her over from the beginning. The situation had changed. They had stuffed her with drugs recklessly, not even checking for side effects, intending to break her completely—but after a single day, her body had already detoxified itself of the poison.

There were some unexpected developments and some things Ian had anticipated. If the spirit Ian had eliminated left behind a blessing or some residual power in its final moments, it was natural for detoxification to occur. The spirit likely intended for Giselle to use that power to escape, but that was a gross miscalculation. Neither Hugo nor Ian would ever silently watch her leave, and above all, Giselle herself would not abandon her brothers.

As proof, even though Giselle knew it wasn’t a dream, she convinced herself it was all a terrible nightmare. Only after being forced into relations when her mind was clear did she finally accept reality. Yet, despite such suffering, her affection for them remained unchanged. How endearing and poignant it was—her brothers couldn’t help but laugh.

At night, she would beg them, spreading her legs and pleading for their seed, yet in the morning, she would sob as she tried to remove it herself. Even that sight was endearing to them. In any case, they had no intention of impregnating her. If Hugo and Ian were serious about it, there would already be a child growing inside her womb. Of course, there was no need to tell her that.

Thanks to the sedatives mixed into the stew taking effect quickly, Giselle soon stopped crying and lifted her head. And, as always, she asked about the whereabouts of the other brother.

“Hugo…?”

“He’s stepped out for a bit. He probably won’t be back today.”

“…Where did he go?”

“The castle.”

Giselle’s expression darkened. Ian knew what she was thinking, but he didn’t bother to correct her. There was no need to tell her the truth.

Hugo had gone to the castle, the place she had sworn never to return to, to find a way to completely eradicate the power left behind by the spirit. No matter how much they fed her potions to weaken her magical energy, it would always recover by the next day. There was no way to tell how long this phenomenon would continue.

Books about witches and spirits had all been burned long ago during the witch hunts. However, the royal library, with its long history, might still hold records on the subject. Additionally, prophets, magicians, or priests might have some knowledge as well.

Hugo had also mentioned considering dealing with a supposedly ill member of the royal family while he was there. Whether he was serious about that or not was unclear, but there was no worry—after all, Hugo was practically unkillable.

Of course, Hugo hadn’t left without resistance. Ian had to make an unappealing compromise to stop Hugo’s insistence on taking Giselle with him.

“Fine, I get it. If you go alone, I’ll let you have Giselle for an extra day.”

“One day?”

“Yes, one day.”

“One day?”

“…Then two days.”

“Two days?”

“No more than that. You’re faster than most beasts anyway, so it won’t take you long. Do you think I don’t remember how, when we were kids, you’d kill the monsters that didn’t beat you in foot races?”

Even in hindsight, the condition was absurd. Even if the royal capital was far, it wouldn’t take Hugo more than a day to reach it at his speed. Until Hugo returned, Giselle was entirely Ian’s, but what followed was grim. Ian was half hoping Hugo would return quickly, and half hoping something would delay him significantly. Watching Giselle stare blankly, Ian let out a small laugh before pulling her into an embrace and lightly kissing her.

“Let’s go for a walk together. The sunset is beautiful.”

Giselle instinctively almost nodded but then quickly snapped back to her senses. She had once loved going for walks, but now she felt uneasy about leaving the house.

The moment she realized that the outdoor trysts, which she had thought were dreams, were real, she also understood that the brothers would take her anywhere and do anything with her. This realization only heightened her aversion to going outside, especially since her body felt like a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any moment.

“No, I… I’d rather stay here…”

“Giselle, I wasn’t asking for your opinion. Let’s go together.”

“…Ian.”

“There’s no need to clean up. You’ll get dirty again anyway.”

The smile that she once thought of as kind now felt frightening, as if it belonged to a stranger. If she were to name the pain that gripped her chest, betrayal and regret would be the most fitting.

Even so, Giselle suppressed all those feelings and nodded. She could never bring herself to resent her students. Carried outside in Ian’s arms, Giselle gazed in a trance at the crimson-stained sky.

The garden, now far tidier than when she first arrived, was even blooming with flowers from the seeds she had planted. Following her gaze, Ian smiled and spoke.

“I’ve been taking good care of it. Aren’t you curious what kind of flowers will bloom?”

“…Yes.”

“According to a botanical guide, they’re flowers that normally only grow in dry regions, so they need a lot of water.”

“I see.”

“I watered them early this morning, so it’s about time to give them another round. Why don’t you do it, Giselle, since it’s a special occasion?”

In her current state, where she couldn’t even take care of herself, it was impossible for her to focus on flowers. Her thoughts were consumed by her own physical condition. If she were to lose control here again… the very idea was too humiliating to imagine. Just then, Ian muttered something under his breath, and Giselle, sensing an odd unease, clutched at his sleeve.

“I-Ian, if you’re going to water them, you have to put me down—ah!”

The arm supporting her thighs slid upward, pulling her clothes along with it. Without wearing any underwear, her lower half was completely exposed, causing Giselle to scream in shock.

“These are flowers you planted, Giselle. We promised to take care of them together.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, so just put me down. Please?”

“Stand properly.”

At Giselle’s desperate plea, Ian added a brief remark before finally setting her down. Her legs gave way momentarily, causing her to stumble, but she soon regained her balance, standing on the grass. She felt tears welling up as she questioned how things had come to this. As was her habit, she bit her lower lip, hurriedly trying to pull her skirt back down. But before she could, Ian, now kneeling, slid his hand up the inside of her thigh.

“Ian, what are you…!”

“The flowers will love it. The water from your body is so sweet.” His voice, laced with a faint laugh, sent a shiver through her entire body. Because of their constant sex, her private area was always stretched and would become wet with the slightest stimulation.

When Ian pressed and released her swollen clitoris, a sticky sound followed. Giselle gasped and clung to Ian’s shoulders, tears streaming down her face.

“No, no! Ian, please, don’t do this. Not out here!” “I feel the same way. This is simply about watering the flowers, isn’t it?”

“Why, why are you—ah!”

Fingers unhesitatingly parted her flesh and entered inside. When she had used her own hand, all she felt was an uncomfortable foreign sensation with no stimulation whatsoever. But now, a chilling sensation ran through her, causing her toes to curl tightly.

“Even at times like this, Giselle, you still lie. If you truly hated it, you wouldn’t feel anything at all.”

Plop, plop. Droplets of mucus fell from her widely stretched opening. Giselle clenched her teeth, holding back her voice. Her insides were filled with heat, but the hand digging deep inside her, mercilessly scraping her inner walls, felt unbearably cold.

Ian remembered every spot where she felt the most. She was so sensitive that she usually enjoyed most forms of stimulation. However, when he pushed his fingers in to their limit and firmly pressed against the soft flesh at the very end, she would reach her climax without even making a sound. That was why, during intercourse, she would end up crying quickly whenever he thrust into her vigorously.

Accompanied by a stifled moan, he could feel her small, pale hands pressing firmly against his shoulders. When he raised his head, he saw Giselle squeezing her eyes shut so tightly that her lashes trembled, her lips bitten as she endured his caresses. As always, he spoke to her in a tone that was almost tender.

“You know that the longer you hold back, the longer this will last.”

“But, but… sniff…”

“Here, it’s gotten all swollen. It keeps twitching, and something keeps coming out.”

“…!”

Ian’s actions—pushing his fingers inside her while pressing her clitoris with his thumb—caused Giselle’s back to arch. The sensitive nub, hidden like it was sheltered within a shell, began to throb. Giselle found herself, unintentionally, wishing for him to touch it more.

“Should I keep touching it?”

Ian, fully aware of her thoughts, deliberately asked the question.

Tears still streaming down her face, Giselle shook her head desperately.

“N-no, it’s fine… Ah!”

“Liar.”

The clitoris, pressed even harder than before, was rubbed back and forth. Giselle, feeling dizzy, didn’t immediately realize that her legs had completely given out beneath her. Without hesitation, Ian caught her as she collapsed forward and lifted her into his arms, his hand still buried in her private area.

Ian moved his fingers leisurely, almost unhurried. Her arousal, so copious it could no longer simply be called wetness, flowed like water, soaking the grass and the sprouting plants. Sweet moans gradually escaped from Giselle’s lips.

“Haa… haa… Ian, stop… now… haaah…”

The two arms that had been limp now wrapped around Ian. It was an unconscious action. Instead of struggling, Giselle dug her nails into his back, clawing at him, her entire body tensing. She felt as though she would lose control if she didn’t hold herself together with all her strength.

Ian noticed her shallow breaths and trembling hips. In response, he hooked his fingers, which were inside her, like claws. When the blunt tips brushed against the area just behind the base of her clitoris, her half-lidded eyes widened, and her lips parted. Once more, this time, his thumb pressed firmly on the front.

“No, don’t… Ah, haa… ahhng!”

Giselle kept repeating that it wasn’t okay, tightening her lower muscles, but she could only hold out for a brief moment. As she felt the opening that had been clenched shut begin to release, a moan escaped her lips, and clear fluid trickled down Ian’s hand and dripped below.

It took a long while before her convulsing inner walls finally returned to their normal state. Ian eventually withdrew his hand, but Giselle buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

“This is too much… too much, Ian. This kind of thing… this…”

“Was it so embarrassing that it made you cry? But I’ve told you before, haven’t I? There’s no need for that.”

“…”

“We’re just doing the same for you as what you’ve done for us.”

Just as Giselle had once loved them unconditionally, even though they were deemed useless and discarded, Ian and Hugo would love her forever—even if she could no longer do anything.

Even though she had said she didn’t want to leave, Giselle had tried to send them away with words like, “I’m sad too, but I want you to be happy.” But this time, they would ensure her happiness by keeping her by their side.

Giselle bit her lip as she raised her head to meet Ian’s cold, calm gaze. He was licking away the traces of her from his hand. With a smile that reached his eyes, Ian exaggerated the movement of his tongue before glancing up at the sky and casually speaking.

“We came out here to go for a walk, but all we managed to do was water the flowers. Should we go inside before it gets completely dark?”

“…I’d like to stay a little longer. Alone…”

Giselle hesitantly added the last word, her voice trembling. Ian looked down at her with an unreadable expression. If it had been Hugo, he would have rejected the idea outright without a second thought. But Ian didn’t mind as long as she stayed within his reach. After all, it wasn’t as if she could leave this place even if left alone.

As Ian unwrapped his firmly entwined arms from her, Giselle hurriedly adjusted her disheveled clothing. Without a word, Ian knelt and gently took hold of her ankle. Soon, an invisible, transparent thread wrapped around her delicate ankle, tethering her to the ground.

“What… are you doing?”