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Wash Away My Sins	By : horrorgal Category: +A through F > Amnesia: The Dark Descent Views: 2697 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own, Amnesia: The Dark Descent, nor the characters. I do not profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter 10
Complete and soul rendering darkness. It was his prison, and John the jailor. Yet even the panic that trembled through every nerve of his body could not smother the pleasure of the flesh. Fingers, tongue and lips caressed his body, wringing tortured cries of passion. The cold black around him was ominous as if they were no longer in the cellar at all, but in a void that stretched far beyond his imagination. It was frightening and exhilarating all at once.
John spoke soft, but his voice carried well in the void as he promised that more exotic pleasures awaited him. Daniel wanted it, but could he survive without such exquisite sins of the flesh now that he had tasted the sweetness of it? John was his salvation. Perhaps he was the true one that could wash away his sins of the past, but would he lead him down another path just as depraved? Daniel didn't have the will to care as he let himself give into lustful delight.
When he climaxed for a third time, his body jolted, wrists and ankles strained tight against the cuffs. His voice broke, exhaustion taking it's toll. Surely John would stop now. It wasn't possible for him to ejaculate again. He squirmed and whimpered in the dark while John slowly licked him clean, chuckling in the stillness.
"I do enjoy the taste of you. I just can't seem to get enough."
"John, please. I can't. My body grows weary."
"And what of the dark? Does it trouble you now?" he asked, kissing over his thigh.
Daniel flinched, panting soft as perspiration rolled over his skin. Yes, the fear was still present, but it's claws not so deep. Hearing John's voice, feeling the sensations that only he could give; it helped keep the panic at bay. Yet, he was unsure that if he decided to leave him alone in the the dark that he would continue to have any sense of calm. When he imagined such things, he didn't really think this was helping at all. "Not as bad," he answered though, gasping harsh when John's fingers pushed deep inside him once more, seeking out the spot that gave him the most pleasure. "John, I can't again. Please!"
"I heard it in your voice, Daniel," John mused, pressing his fingers expertly against his prostate.
"What?" Daniel moaned, squirming helplessly on the chair.
"You're still afraid deep down, but it's alright. In time the fear will be no more. I promise you, lover." His fingers scissored relentlessly, toying inside him. The pain, the pleasure; it was so good and he wanted more, even as he cried out for mercy. "Your body is so open to me now." John worked his fingers in and out slow, crudely teasing him. Daniel strained against the bonds uselessly, trying to work his hips in his desire to feel more. "Do you want my cock now, Daniel?"
"Yes, John. Please." He would not be released from the darkness so soon after all.
~~~
"Sir, would you like more tea?" Rose asked, standing at his elbow.
"Hm?" Daniel looked up at her, coming out of his memory.
"More tea?"
"No, thank you, Rose." He looked away from her and back at his half eaten breakfast, uncomfortably aware that his groin was much too tight against the crotch of his trousers. He was just glad the table was blocking her view. She went back towards the kitchen and he sighed with relief.
It had been a few days since that night in the cellar, but what he had felt was still fresh in his mind. His body was no longer sore. He had his physical health to thank for that, but the day after he had barely moved from his bed, his muscles and backside aching from John's manipulation of his body. His nightmares were once again at bay for the time being, and the dark not as terrifying. He was able to walk through the house at night now without jumping at every sound, but dread was not so easily vanquished. John told him it would take more time and... sessions as he called it. At least he promised they would not use the cellar again. It was much too cold in these winter months.
Daniel looked at the empty seat across from him. John had went to town early this morning while he still slept, leaving a note on his pillow that he would be back before noon. He couldn't help but worry, not knowing if the shadow had been real, or just his own mind playing tricks. If it was real, was John okay? Surely he was safe, but he was apprehensive as he sat there. He left the table to go put on his coat and head out to the stable to get some work done. It was better than sitting there doing nothing but imagining horrible things.
New snow was on the ground, but the blanket was thin. His boots left a trail through the cold fluff as he went, the morning silent except for the crunching sound of his footsteps. He went about his work, giving the horses fresh water and oats before he started to clean out the pens for new hay. He brushed Shadowstorm's mane, whistling a soft tune until he heard a scuff sound near the back part of the stable. He pushed the sound aside as probably being one of the horses until he heard it again. He looked towards the back. Perhaps one of the workers had come in to help today, but he hadn't noticed anyone come in, and they usually said a hello in any case.
He put the horse brush aside and wandered toward the mysterious sound. Maybe it was a animal trying to get a little warmth from the cold. He stopped. Perhaps another wolf? No, the horses would probably sense a wild beast. Still, it could be something dangerous. He grabbed the pitchfork before he continued to investigate. He held it before him like a weapon, trying to make no sounds as he approached the rear of the stable. He neared the corner where the ladder to the loft was, peering around, gripping the pitchfork tight. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, then jerked when he saw a small furry creature skitter across the floor into a darkened corner.
He took a breath. "Bloody Hell. Damn shrew." The animal scurried behind a few bags of oats to hide itself. He felt rather silly now, standing with pitchfork in hand like he was ready for battle. He shook his head and moved back towards the horses and put the pitchfork back in it's place. They didn't need any kind of rodents in the stables. He would have to take care of that as soon as possible. He put the brush away and gave the horses one more look over, especially the pregnant mare. He gave her a soft petting along her neck before he left the stable and secured the door.
Daniel started for the house, but stopped when he saw someone standing off near the foundation of the mansion. It wasn't any of the house staff. It could be one of the builders just checking to make sure everything was well, but he was sure John had sent them away for the time being. As much as the warmth of the house beckoned him, he wandered towards the stranger instead.
"May I help you?" he asked when he got close enough.
"Oh God, you startled me," the man gasped as he turned to face him.
"Sorry about that, but you are on owned property."
"Yes, yes. I am aware," he said politely enough. He was a thin looking fellow and a bit pale skinned, with neatly trimmed hair and eyeglasses. He looked familiar and it only took Daniel a moment to recognize him. It was the man he had seen John having a heated discussion with outside the house not long ago.
"Are you here to see John?"
"Yes, but I was informed Mr. Wakefield was not in." He looked towards the foundation again, clearly distracted.
"John should return soon. You are welcome to wait inside the house for him. It would certainly be warmer than waiting out here." Daniel suggested, watching the man curiously. There was something odd about his manner. Agitated, perhaps a little frightened, but he also showed a almost childlike inquisitiveness as he kept his attention focused on the skeletal foundation of the mansion. "Or maybe I could help you?" Daniel said a little louder to snare his attention.
"Ah..well.., yes perhaps," he answered, fidgeting once more before he looked at Daniel. "You are an associate of Mr. Wakefield?"
"In a sense. I'm a house guest of sorts, and I help work here with the horses." True enough, he thought to himself.
The man looked around before he spoke again, and when he did his tone was unnecessarily hushed, as no one else was foolish enough to be standing here in the cold for no apparent reason. "How well do you know your employer?"
It was a uncomfortable inquiry when he took account of their physical relationship, but this squirly man couldn't possibly know of their fornication. Still, his stomach knotted and now he was the one fidgeting in place. The man did not notice, for he was gazing over the area again. His peculiar attention over the unfinished construction assured Daniel that their secret was safe. This odd spectacle was wearing very thin though, and he still feared being so near the woods.
"Well enough," Daniel answered with calm confidence. "Under a years time, but we speak and work together often." He wasn't sure the man heard him and he was about to repeat himself when he was finally acknowledged.
"Very well," the man said, scratching at his earlobe that was red from the cold. Daniel had to wonder if he was really even taking in what he was saying.
"Are you sure you don't want to come inside?" he asked, but didn't relish the thought of spending more time with this odd stranger.
"No, it's really no cause for that. I was just here to discuss when he wanted the builders to return and how he wanted to go about the extra space he decided on. I told him we would have to start fresh, and to dig further into the earth in the middle of winter would be an impossible task. He wasn't very pleased."
"Dig?"
"Yes." The man put his arms around himself to ward against the cold. "He requested a lower level."
"A cellar?"
"It is rather cold today," the man said, completely ignoring his question. "If you would, could you inform Mr. Wakefield I will return at a later time?"
"Of course. Your name, Sir?"
"Mr. Abney." He shook Daniel's hand and quickly pulled his own back. "I really should be off," he insisted and walked away in a hurry. Daniel saw a horse and carriage along the road that he hadn't noticed when he'd left the stable. The driver sat still, holding the reigns and probably cursing the cold.
"Odd fellow," he muttered and looked at the foundation with mild interest. He saw nothing about it that was worthy of such inspection as Mr. Abney had been giving it. He looked towards the woods, anticipating the worst, shivering against the cold. Why did John have to pick this spot for the mansion? He knew he really had no right to question it, but it was difficult for him after what happened.
He tilted his head and found himself stood in place, watching the woods. He felt calm, like a warm blanket wrapped around his body as if it was a summer day instead of the middle of winter. Before he knew it, he was mesmerized by the natural beauty. Nothing could possibly harm him there. He felt a subtle pull, like a beckon of a lover enticing him forward. Maybe another wander through the trees wouldn't be so very bad. His breath shook and he took a dreamlike step. Snow crunched beneath his boot.
Several birds that were perching on the treetops took to the sky, as if frightened off by a predator. Daniel froze and gasped in shock, the fierce beating of his heart as steady as their wings. He panted, hungry for air like he'd been running from something. He stared wide-eyed in between the trees, trying to find the source of their flight. Nothing moved or stirred in his vision, but he was sure something was watching him, calculating and monstrous, eager to try to tempt him again.
"No, no, no," he whimpered and backed up, fighting sheer panic. Something just tried to lure him into a trap. He was certain of this, even as he tried to think rationally as John had told him before. It was imagination; a fixture of his inner fear.
Daniel felt the tug once more and jolted with the sensation, a scream caught in his throat. He fought and turned away from the trees that seemed to waver before his eyes now, the motion like flames moving on a soft breeze. He staggered, legs feeling unnaturally heavy as he moved helplessly towards the safety of the house.
Mr. Abney's carriage was just pulling away, and he meant to yell to get the drivers attention, but only a croak emitted, the pitiful sound much too low to be heard at such a distance. He willed his legs to move faster, too frightened to look back. He knew he would see something if he did, something disturbingly close. He could feel the presence hovering at his back and the sensation of hot breath against his ear. He weakly raised a hand in a last attempt to get the drivers attention as his vision began to darken around him. He felt his body falling and the sickening touch of the unknown monster slithering over him.
I'm going to die.
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Wash Away My Sins