Author's Note: I know how this possible is amalgamation of Atonement (AO3) and somewhat Release ( ) as some of my favorite stories which aren't from Wattpad, nevertheless, I wanted to experiment with some mix and controversial plot twist that is worth at all! I hope you like and enjoy this chapter!
- The Next Day -
- 28th of December, 1964 -
The morning after approached sooner than expected.
In the wee hours of the morning, the ambitious Monsignor and Jude fled his office altogether after collecting sufficient rest through the night, in spite of the insomnia that perched on the holy priest's eyelids the last night, in fact, he's supervising per an hour his former right hand's condition until he found himself drifting off asleep on his own bureau.
As soon as the former devotional woman of the cloth had a poor-quality breakfast along with the myriad of patients and pretending to swallow her own daily medicament, subsequently Timothy after brewing his own coffee and reentering his austere office to phone Father Malachi, his mentor urgently.
When the midnight black, glossy earpiece was clung to Timothy's ear, his strong, pristine fingers curled around the earpiece, while his solely free mammoth, veiny hand grasped the plain white, porcelain mug's handle as he sipped his own morning coffee, awaiting the following phone call. An eerie flat line crinkled across his pale-pinkish, caffeine-stained lips.
Fortunately, the young possessed woman of the cloth hasn't bumped into the man of the cloth and belittling him with her daredevil game. That was a dab of relief, ameliorating his thoughts, although the imminent, unpredictable clashes that awaited between her and him if he doesn't play his own cards right and call exceedingly the senior priest for the exorcism.
"Father Malachi is talking! How can I help you, Monsignor?" The suddenness of the senior priest's answer startled the younger man, almost choking with the bubbled up lump in his throat, swigging it sluggishly though reluctance persuaded him to not cough and prevent the choke with the caffeine beverage. On other hand, relief creased between his eyebrows, clearing his throat.
"Good day, Father! We've an issue in Briarcliff even shortly after the young man's exorcism." Stutter limped on his berry-coloured tongue, whereas the angst was overflowing beneath his epidermis, adrenaline and disquietude pumping into his veins and doubling his concerns, affecting his heart beats that brake in his ribcage after the unthinkable, significant change in the juvenile woman of the cloth as a top task to bash the demon out of her frail skeleton with professional help. "This issue hasn't ceased for days and there are a few witnesses that can confirm it's absolutely true." Frown twisted upon Father Malachi's heavily wrinkled due to the relentlessly inexorable aging process, parchment complexion.
"What do you mean with this, Timothy? Is there a victim of possession in Briarcliff after Jed's heart attack and sudden death?" Sometimes Father Malachi preferred to address his protégé with his first name friendly after a couple of years collaborating altogether and accepting him as his own son figure, although his childless and unmarried status through the decades of his bland, insurmountable life, serving his ecclesiastical duties with potent efforts.
"Yes! Sister Mary Eunice is supposed to be possessed as she fainted after Jed's death. Her behavior is undeniably eccentric and nothing, compared to the normal Sister Mary Eunice we know."
"Suppose?" Emphasis was highlighted in the rhetorical, one-word inquiry of the older man, suckling on his lower lip, whereas his solely free hand's meaty fingers managed to reach for his hoary bald wire, capping his head and scrapping faintly with his small fingernails the delicate skin of his head. "Hmm, so what kind of behavior have you spotted in her as you described it eccentric lately?"
"She's vulgar and she tried to rape by pleasuring Jude in her ward, therefore due to her misbehaving, Sister Mary Eunice and Dr. Arden dragged Jude in Dr. Arden's laboratory by strapping her on the bed. This happened exactly a night ago." Hemming limped in the back of his throat, almost dying on his tongue tip when certain vulgar words which were far from adequate from a devotional member of the clergy to utter them were petering out. Unknowledgeable crystalline tear blossomed on his lower eyelid, forming a rivulet, trickling hesitantly on his cheek. Timothy has never cussed or used strong language, breaking a vow and earning the judgmental, fierce glares of God who's the only one that judged him and his deeds. "I was double checking the hallways, in case if turmoil lurked somewhere in Dr. Arden's laboratory or somewhere from the both wings that imprisoned the patients that were asleep. I was lucky I saved Jude's life and I sheltered her in my office for only one night, instead of sleeping on her own all alone in the cold night." Skepticism crinkled the senior man of the cloth's eyebrows' cusp. "She was so weak and vulnerable. She could be killed or even worse, dying slowly in pain like the tortured patients of Dr. Arden, whom I afraid he blackmailed me to illuminate everything about Briarcliff if I remove him from his position and get rid off him."
"I see! Within less than an hour the exorcism will be performed on Sister Mary Eunice." Sigh of relief flushed the British compatriot's encumbered with agony and angst chest, boiling his bile and brewing disquietude and cooking inside him with shivering coldness, swamping his lower abdomen to the untouched, unloved areas. "But the bad news is that there aren't available doctors that will help us to bash the demon. I'm sure Dr. Arden can help and be the last hope."
"That's such a shame! But, of course, Dr. Arden might be part of the exorcism and be pretty helpful. Thank you for your word, Father Malachi!" In the meantime, Sister Mary Eunice entered discreetly without knocking and keeping the head priest of the madhouse's wits about her presence along with her feminine, meek footsteps that once echoed in the profound, dim light hallway. Skepticism glinted in his cocoa brown embers, igniting its ablaze flame after adjusting the earpiece back to the phone and sipping his coffee, eyeing glassily with immense concern the juvenile blonde, studying her manners and body language. Her mouth opened n an enormous, cocky grin, alight by the older man's vulnerability and virgin-like nature. "Sister, I think you have forgotten to knock on the door at least once!" His stern caution caught her off guard without stopping her striding up to his hardwood bureau restlessly with long, small footsteps, monotonous click of her Mary Jane against the cemented flooring.
"Oh, I'm really sorry, Monsignor! I didn't realize the rules would be the same like in Sister Jude's office." The young lady pretended the guilty conscience and her irresponsibility gnawing her, pursing thoughtfully her lips, whereas the distrustful aroma of lilacs and gardenia wafted across his nostrils, amalgamating with the fresh, hot coffee's aroma shortly after being brewed and poured in its mug. Little did he know what urged the young woman's odor to doubt her momentarily even more right away after the last night's nightmare he witnessed and if he wasn't that lucky to hurry up, throughout his rare bird would be the impending victim of the former Nazi war criminal's barbarous experiments. His nostrils flared skeptically, surveying from head to toes the blonde.
"It's fine. I'm not Sister Jude to be tremendously strict, nevertheless, I dislike the rules to be broken, in the name of ignorance and lack of responsibility!" Even when the British compatriot forgave the blonde's plea as a bland excuse and her lack of self-confidence after being bullied for years and Jude's iron fist were the core of her incessant bland excuses, frequently whispering its dark inner voices and diminishing her self-esteem, despite her stamina that aided her to win abundance of battles through the years of bullying, discrimination and the loss of her biological parents at early age. "What brings you here, Sister Mary Eunice?"
"I just wanted to make sure check on you, Monsignor! Even when you brought that old whore to sleep in that linked bedroom the last night." Her brilliance of sanity meant a big trouble for the British aristocrat, opting to cope with looking after the ex-nun and the imminent exorcism as an attempt to rescue the juvenile nun's soul before it was too late.
"No matter what she used to be in her past, I'm not the one to judge her and put labels on her for her actions. She was so weak and vulnerable the last night and I don't blame her."
"Aw, it's such a shame!" Her roseate, soft as satin lips parted in a baleful, haughty frown, trying to protract her fingers to pawn his shoulder until he withdrew with loathing, getting from his seat and to keep the proximity as larger as possible. "Did she try to touch or pleasure you, Monsignor? Huh?"
At the moment, Timothy shook his head in a solemn disagreement, pursing his lips pensively, frustratedly. His resilient silence was clearly obvious for her and his demeanor hinted her he's quite fishy lately especially since the night before when he confronted her and Arthur Arden.
"No! How would you think of this?" Once he strolled up to the office door to flee and find Dr. Arden, meantime, the young sister of the church escorted him from behind without giving up with an ease. Wicked chuckle clicked her tongue.
"You're unrealistically mistaken, Father! You don't know that this old whore loves you and thinks of you every night, touching herself and,"
"Carl! James!" The hoarseness in Timothy's croak echoed in the abysmal hall of the old asylum, seeking aid to come in no time and lock up Mary Eunice in a ward by strapping her on a bed and stripping her off her clerical possessions with a shapelessly rigid, mere patient robe-clad to her bony body.
"You won't get away with that, Father! I thought we'd be great business partners and you're in a big trouble!" Within less than a quarter a minute, a few orderlies emerged in the corridor, following docilely the Monsignor's voice emanation, marching up to Mary Eunice. Further, sufficiently heavy, masculine footsteps were approaching like shadows, casted on the young sister of the church.
"Carl and James, take Sister Mary Eunice to one of the free women's wing cells and strap her on a bed! Within less than an hour, there's going to be an exorcism!" Eloquence in his order managed the both orderlies' bobbing their heads in a strong, diligent agreement, dangling their arms around the younger woman's body, dragging her off in the corridor, in spite of her recurring writhes in their tight grapples, fluttering tightly shut her eyelids and baring balefully her ivory, still firm for her fragile age teeth.
"You won't get away with that, Monsignor! You're nothing than a narcissistic, selfish traitor that listens to a madwoman! A madwoman's toyboy!" Meanwhile, the oblivious of Timothy's nonchalance in Mary Eunice's wails, swimming behind the dull madhouse's walls, sunk the possessed holy woman's heart, scarcely believing her goose is going to be cooked within the exorcism and possibly fainting haphazardly. Overwhelmness plagued the British compatriot's vortex of thoughts, a heavy sigh flushing his nostrils with its surged fresh, encumbering oxygen and ambling up to his forthcoming destination without thinking twice of the events that took its place a few minutes ago. It deeply hurt him how he betrayed Jude and Mary Eunice, but his alternatives were limited nonetheless, offering him the once innocent young nun's salvation and taking care of his rara avis unless the circumstances convince his spontaneous opinion change in imprisoning her against her will.
On one hand, the possessed holy woman's words stung his pair of chocolate brown pools with the warmest and most vibrant chocolate, widened in the realization the weighed scales of her words and his feelings, equalized as one. Dozens of truths emphasized her utterance about his genuine feelings for the Bostonian. Timothy genuinely loved Judy yet and had deeply intensifying feelings for her without exposing them to her at all. Mary Eunice knew why he sheltered his rare bird in his office the night before and having benevolent intentions over her, in spite of his lacking trust in her demeanor. On other hand, what the British aristocrat hankered more than anything was his facial features' and body language to be arcanely readable by anybody even the people who knew him and Judy. He had no intentions of releasing and according the middle-aged woman's arranged release soon unless the trial or further circumstances such as Mother Claudia menacing his reputation and entire hard work, invested in his celestial dream of rising in the high tiers of the diocese as the highest priority until Jude's release or reimposition to her position which she used to be.
Forbidden love and forbidden feelings were the top questions that whirled and twirled in the ambitious Monsignor's whirlpool of thoughts.
- An Hour Later -
Within an hour, Father Malachi, Dr. Arden and Timothy were in the ward for bashing the vile essence from Mary Eunice's frail skeleton even when at first the senior doctor of science disagreed and he hadn't any intentions of participating in the exorcism, menacing his heartache if he loses his once favorite innocent young nun after the vile essence dwells out of her identity.
In the meanwhile, the patients were overcrowding the common room, despite Jude was sitting on the tattered couch by herself, taking a drag at her cigar and puffing pungent smoke with her mouth, agape in a soft O. The frequent, playing on looped Dominique song was tingling miserable tunes into her sensitive, petite ears.
As soon as the both members of the church and the doctor of science set a foot in the poorly adorned cell, the exorcism begun with recited in a croak prayers out loud, fizzle the Satan's chances of winning the battle and defeating the young woman with a heart attack. In the interval, Mary Eunice writhed her feeble body muscles, urging the fight against the prayers and the trusses on her ankles, wrists and throat. The dim golden daylight filtered the naturally bathed in light cell through the battered wall window, warmly blanketing Mary Eunice's stark, palish legs with its patient's gown hem flaring across her round, knobby knees. Her youthfully flossy aureate long mop of tresses was ruffled on the cotton, convenient pillow.
"You can't do this to me. You fucking piggies!" What the smitten young woman of the cloth disregarded was her strong language, series of desperate bewails with her deep, infernal voice accentuating them. "Once a traitor, always a traitor! I didn't know you will do this to me, Dr. Arden! I trusted you with my life." She turned to face the former Nazi, gritting maliciously her ivory, still firm teeth, whereas he gawked at her, glimmering azure, translucent tears submerging his sapphire blue orbs, quietly weeping while supervising her on the right side of the patient bed, whereas the both priests made the Sign of the Cross and recited prayers from the Holy Bible without an ado.
"Don't listen to the demon, Doctor! Focus on your business." The senior holy man advised Arthur though the horde of men overlooked and opted to focus on rescue the taintless identity of Mary Eunice, scarcely glimpsing at her insults, trying to test their patience as well.
"Monsignor, I think your favorite old slut misses your big hard-on into her smelly clam between her legs!" Heinous guffaw floated from the young blonde's rosy-coloured lips, grinning complacently and bloodily at him, turning to face him with a sinister stare, draining his soul off. Generous layer of blush touched Timothy's chubby, well-carved cheeks, whilst ignoring her utterance and utterly dedicating his time on the prayers, his rosary beads wrapped around his fingers. Attractive veil of perspiration veiled his young-looking, lily-white complexion, faintly cooling his facial skin. "And that's why you're the town pump's favorite beau, aren't you? Didn't you know that your favorite town pump is touching herself every night, thinking of you?" In the interim, the exorcism was progressing with luxurious series of prayers and wretched wails as a background sound, reproducing a tune. "Oh, Timothy, don't stop, please! Oh God, Monsignor, you're so huge! I didn't know the priests are that huge." The Satan's taunts and mimicking the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer's sultry moans and groans engulfed the younger man's stamina, peeling off the iron armor of his heart and the blanche veil, veiling overally his face and powdering with shamefaced, unhealthy cherry hues.
"Don't listen to it! It's all lies." Father Malachi insisted, whilst mumbling a mouthful of prayers until the former woman of the cloth collapsed on the pillow, snivels whacking her, cupping her face with the palms of her petite hands.
"Argghhh!'
"Mary Eunice, everything will be fine! The demon is finally released from your body." In the interval, the younger man crouched down, cradling the young lady's head in a kindhearted, warm embrace with his toned forearms, shushing consolingly emboldening. "It's not your fault at all. You're safe and sound! You deserve to rest!"
- A Few Hours Later or So -
After the successful exorcism and rescuing the taintless soul of Mary Eunice's identity, consequently she was housed in her own ward to collect extra rest through the daylight hours.
In the meanwhile, the symphony, looping as a background sound of babbling lunatics, some of them banging bluntly restlessly their heads in the brick walls and the incessant French song on the recording player playing in the expansive room tingled the epitome of the real insanity and wretchedness, reigning behind the dull, lifeless walls of the mental institution.
What it baffled and flabbergasted the Bostonian was her ex-protégé's absence today and for not bumping into her with her fiendish game with its crucial goal of testing the former licentious nightclub singer's patience.
All of a sudden, what it caught off guard the middle-aged woman was the double common room door opened as Timothy ambled up to her to check on her since it was his obligation acknowledging her condition in general.
In the meanwhile, the former holy woman's smile spread across her lips soothingly at the sight of the younger man, who approached her.
"How is Sister Mary Eunice?"
"She fought so hard and fortunately, the demon is bashed! She's currently resting in her own ward." Sigh of relief indicated the blonde's pride and euphoria, chewing on her lower plump roseate lip with her front teeth. Her heart leaped promptly.
"That's such a relief!"
"I truly believe she's so strong."
"T-Timothy," Meantime, she cut him off curtly, emphasizing his name, whereas quirk contoured his thick, dark eyebrow at her emphasis."I was thinking this, in fact, you really enjoyed my culinary skills and like my cooking," Stammer limped in the back of her throat, swallowing hard during the brief pause, whilst the younger man didn't dare to interrupt her, showing signs of disrespect and blatant manners, due to galore of simple reasons. Their friendship with its controversial stability due to its sudden betrayal and toxicity. She was his rare bird. In spite of her inferior position, wearing undeservedly, it didn't hurt him to listen to her when it was her turn to express her own thoughts. Nostalgia swamped the pit of her almost empty stomach. "I know there's almost nothing much to do there and thanks to my culinary skills, I could do something for both of us! For the old time's sake?"
"Jude, I'm afraid your treatment and therapy should be ongoing instead of investing your efforts in feeding the entire staff! All I can advise you are to rest and invest your cooking skills in baking bread in the pantry." An eerie flat line flattened the curve of his baby pinkish lips, holding her gaze with nonchalance.
"That's true, Father! However, I truly missed the times when I cooked a meal for both of us. And I strongly promise the meal will be on much smaller scale. It will be just for both of us." In the meantime, headstrong adrenaline pumped flimsily into her veins, overflowing with lava at her former boss's stubbornness and calmness clashing with the coq-au-vin offer. "It won't hurt to have a coq-au-vin for the old time's sake in the name of our friendship and Sister Mary Eunice's victory over the devil! And it will be a quiet evening for both of us and once we finish the meal, I'll go back in my ward and you will do yar own business."
Although the British aristocrat's controversial thoughts, weighing its scales whether to trust his instincts by declining with all respect the dinner offer or on the contrary accept it as an occasion of their ongoing friendship, he reconsidered his rara avis's suggestion with a half a minute pause and doubting any harm in sharing a dinner with his once favorite holy woman.
"Since we've been friends for a long time and you consider me as a danger or having malicious intentions of harming ya, what's yar word on it?" Suddenly the former sleazy nightclub singer broke off the silence with her haphazard enquiry. Smile glittered a thousand of optimistic, bright patterns, flashed upon her parchment, pallid complexion.
"Since it has been awhile I've enjoyed your meals, I'm completely sure you need arranged assistance in the dinner preparation."
"Help?" The huskiness of her wry chuckle didn't ebb out, muffling it with one of her hands. "I never needed help before."
"Alright, Jude! This Thursday at seven o'clock we can have our dinner."
"I thought Friday would work for you?" The rhetoric nuances in her inquiry mildly irritated him.
"Jude, I don't understand what difference in the days bothers you? Why, tho?"
"Fridays were like always my favorite days to cook and prepare a meal."
"Fine! So it's Friday in eight o'clock the arranged dinner as I've to visit some places."
Within a handful of minutes after the priest exited the common room and conversating his former co-worker about their arranged coq-au-vin Friday dinner night, the Bostonian still pondered whether if Timothy is going to be sincere and keep their arrangement within a couple of days only without thinking twice of altering his hectic daily schedule.
Little did the Bostonian know how their forthcoming coq-au-vin Friday dinner night will pass and is it a good idea to achieve somehow his trust back again and decreasing the chances of her imprisonment inside the facility.
