The Hunter Version 1

“Follow him, if you want to avoid his wrath.” The driver suggested helpfully.
“Thank you,” Ben whispered to make sure his father did not hear.
Ben scrambled out of the car and trotted after his father, who had not waited even half a second for his son. The son who had been kidnapped and nearly killed on multiple occasions. The son who had returned home at last. The son whose father had paid some sort of heavy price to get back. Why wouldn't he pay attention to that son? Ben wondered if his life had always been like that. Shunned by an unforgiving, cold father. He shuddered to think what his brothers would be like.
He followed his father up fifteen steps of smooth, white granite and through a large, heavy looking wooden door. The grand foyer they strode into left Ben impressed. It was almost as large as Max's cave had been. It was decorated in the natural colors of the wood that made up the place and various red or golden ornaments and paintings. Ben stopped moving to stare in awe until someone cleared their throat from the top of the wooden staircase leading to the second floor.
“Welcome back, Father and brother,” a young male voice said.
Ben's head snapped to the speaker and saw a boy who could have been his twin if not for the mop of blond curls on his head. Dread filled the pit of Ben's stomach as the two boys examined each other. Ben's father gave a simple grunt in reply and turned toward a door to the left of the stairs. Ben did not move, getting the feeling he was not welcome where ever his father was going. As soon as the door had shut, the boy scrambled down the stairs and leaped at Ben, grabbing him into a tight hug. Ben backed away in a panic, but swiftly forced himself to calm when he realized what was happening.
“I missed you so much, brother! I was certain you were dead!” The boy sobbed softly.
“I told you he wasn't,” a new voice called from the shadows of the second story.
Ben glanced up and saw a young man about five years older than he and the boy clinging to him. The three of them shared the same face and eyes, but while Ben's hair was dark brown, the other two were both blonde and taller. This older boy leaned against the railing of the staircase with a book in one hand, his thumb holding his place, and smiled at Ben.
“Welcome back, little brother. I imagine this must be overwhelming for you, so why don't we take you to your room so you can rest. Charlie, don't forget what I told you about his memories,” he told them.
“Oh,” Charlie muttered unhappily, and swiftly released Ben, “sorry.”
“It's okay. I'm sure I'll remember you soon,” Ben whispered, assuming at what the apology was for.
Charlie beamed at Ben excitedly and Ben got the feeling he was perhaps much younger than he looked. Charlie skipped away, up the stairs, and Ben followed at a slower pace. His other brother was right; this all was very overwhelming. He preferred it when he was starving. The older boy met them at the head of the stairs and carefully reached out to stroke Ben's wounded cheek. The wound itself was nothing more than paler skin, very nearly completely healed.
“You'll have to tell us what happened later. Do you remember anything at all?”He smiled at Ben.
“Not really. I think I remember camping with one of you. And some other little things, like eating breakfast in a library, riding bikes, and a few things. I also know a lot of terms and names.” Ben replied.
“Alright. Well, I'm William. Willy when we were younger. You and I used to go camping a lot in the back yard. We'd pretend we were explorers or the original Natives of America of old. Charlie was too young to play with us and by the time he was old enough, you were engaged in hobbies and I was learning how to run Mother's business.”
“Our mother?” Ben asked.
“She's still around and alive, but you'll never see her. Or Father, for that matter. I was pretty shocked when he publicly hugged you this morning at the dock.” William chuckled.