Author's Note: Blessings and Curses' song by naming the chapter is Wolves at the Gates'. I hope you like and enjoy the third chapter of the roller coaster of the Holy Succubus. I'd like to apologize for this sloppy and short chapter, besides writing another book where Jude is pregnant. Anyway here we go! So much love for everybody! <3 

--- *** ---

--- The Next Morning ---

--- 2nd of November, 1964 ---

The next morning was embraced by the eloquent, elating song of the chirping birds, encircling the old, infamous madhouse's façade. Dim sunlight battered by dispersing its natural lukewarm blanket as a comfort over the half-naked body of the pious man of the cloth and the en-suite bedroom, bathing them in lukewarm, late autumn sunlight, guarding them against the common cold climate of the madhouse as well.

The night before while the storm was inescapably ginormous even distressing for the patients and the nuthouse's staff, it's a storm for Timothy too. In fact, his virtue was taken away by nobody else by the vile essence that lives in the head nun of the nuthouse. Furthermore, his reputation was imperiled along with his long-career as a member of the clergy. Last but not least, he finally saw the face of evil and the genuinely baleful consequences of the rape that the devil commanded his rara avis's body to do unbelievable stuff on him without his consent even if he found himself discreetly relishing it.

As soon as Timothy came to his senses by rubbing with his fashioned in balled fists his drowsy orbs and bleating a mere yawn with his morning breath, his cocoa brown orbs were met with an empty bed as a cold welcome and his rare bird's once discarded habit was vanished.

The truth was Jude got up earlier than her boss by getting donned and ready for the day, in order to release with the security guards the inmates.

Desolation and melancholy bundled him under the chilliest blanket, blanketing his muscly frame. Desolation as he felt dumped as a stray puppy, factly, his owner couldn't bear the consequences of an ongoing growing puppy being naughty and doing mess which is perfectly normal for his age due to his youthfulness, besides taking the responsibility to clean the mess after him. In the British compatriot's case was Jude played her own cards right by dumping him after the one-night stand they'd in her en-suite bedroom by being his first ever woman to deserve his virginity, although her possession was gruesome and corrupting his identity. Melancholy, due to the fact, Jude was amidst his sole loyal friends and partners he's ever had after joining the priesthood. Priesthood, where the friendships, family and lovers weren't existing as if they're characterized for much different, unrealistic realm except the friendships which were seldom as second nature, depending of the clerical faces if they develop a potent, loyal and stable friendship through the years due to their partnership.

When the British compatriot had the strength to pick up his discarded boxers and trousers to put them on his half stark figure, all of a sudden a small note, laying on the dressing table drew his attention in no time, eager to read and discover the mysteries behind the message that's scribbled in the note. In the meantime, he quirked an eyebrow as his temple creased bashfully.

So his lover left him all alone in the bedroom, linked with her unwelcoming, austere office and then finding a note on the top of the dressing table. What a coincidence!

When the British aristocrat zipped back his trousers after putting on his underwear, he strolled up to the dressing table, snatching agitatedly the note, in order to take his time to read it.

Dear Timothy,

I know how much do you love me and that I'm your rare bird, but once you read it, it's going to be part of your responsibility for the rest of your life within 9 months, because the miracles happen sooner or later.

I love you too as much as I consider you so special to be the father of our triplets that grow as fresh lives inside me. Don't be so panicked! At first, I was either, however, I'm not afraid to be straightforward about them especially in front of you except everybody else.

Anyway one of the triplets is going to be boy, while the other two are going to be sheerly girls. That's the news I can deliver for now, besides they're perfectly healthy!

I love you so much

By Jude

When his chocolate brown pools, fueled with agitation and astonishment perusing the brief note for him, his front ivory, yet firm for his age teeth nibbled on the delicate skin of his lower lip as his neck flushed in embarrassment and his well-defined cheeks tinted in generous cherry pigment.

How is possible his rara avis to be impregnated especially after she violated him and he planted his seed inside her core? The blonde was readily right. His body relaxed and worshipped his first time as their climaxes approached slightly sooner without having borderlines even if he consciously disagreed, in fact, to not violate the Bostonian's goodwill and menacing their reputations by breaking a vow. How is possible Jude to be pregnant with triplets since there are minimal chances of a woman especially in her midlife stage of her life to have children that are just more than one, secured inside her bump? Is the devil inside her responsible for her magical, haphazard pregnancy? Are they going to be wonderful parents and imperil to alienate from the ecclesiastical duties, missions and lifestyle for the rest of their days, in order to be proud parents of three children from one pregnancy?

Suddenly familiar feminine, monotonous chunks' clicking footsteps, emanating from the office dumbfounded him as he left immediately the note on the dressing table, seizing his pale-pinkish lips in a pensive purse by approaching the bedroom's door to flee the en-suite bedroom until he was met with the older woman, offering him a smug, wicked grin, carved upon her naturally rosy-coloured, soft as satin lips.

"Good morning, Monsignor! How did ya sleep?"

"Morning, Jude! I slept well." Honeyed, British accent accentuated his exclaimation, returning her grin with a benevolently innocent, chaste smile, contouring his charming, youthful facial features. "What about you too?"

"Me either. I slept well! I can't complain." Wickedly raspy chuckle clicked against the roof of her mouth, fixing her wimple once again, in order to keep in order the coif, protecting a handful of wild, glossy gilt tresses framing her round profile.

"Jude, I need to go as I'm beyond busy with," As the younger man ambled up to the office door to flee, meanwhile, the middle-aged lady blocked his path by emitting a wicked, quiet snigger, cutting him off curtly.

"Where do ya think yar going, Timothy? Do ya think I'll allow ya to go to do yar own business?"

"J-Jude?"

"What is it?" Hoarse whisper scratched her throat, raising an arch of her eyebrow quizzically as their hearts drummed vehemently into their ribs cage as its heart pulses pulsated into their ears. They looked up at one another's faces, contrasting as if completely different planets are about to collide.

"I'm busy, I need to check the,"

"Ya aren't going anywhere unless ya listen to me first." In the interval, the blonde gritted her ivory teeth as her brass dappled irises, filled with desire, lust and love were darted to his chocolate brown irises, mottled with benevolence, pure innocence, warmness and love. Faint bobbing his head in agreement without changing her decision what to do with him if he disagreed otherwise. "It has to do with Dr. Arden. What is exactly the true incarnation of evil!" In the meanwhile, the younger man's cocoa brown eyes widened in mortification as his lips popped up reluctantly. "If ya have paid a visit to his office yesterday, I guess ya have seen the parcel." The holy man nodded humbly, docilely as he's absolutely sure the day before he paid a visit to find Arden strapped on the patient bed in his laboratory and finding an additional piece of evidence of his leery identity. The parcel with the Nazi souvenirs and the illegally pornographic photos, cached altogether as collection. "Good! One of his hired prostitutes a few nights ago found this parcel in his room as she was forced to dress up as a nun and therefore being raped by him. Moreover, this man has a suspicious, morbid past." Timothy opted to gulp the solid lump, budding in his throat as a blooming spring flower as its petals commenced to flourish. "Arthur Arden isn't his real name. His name is Hans Gruper. He used to be a sadistic doctor back in Auschwitz and he's hiding from the Nazi detectives and hunters, in order to not being captured by fleeing his birth country and creating a fake biography and renaming himself. He mutilates some of the patients by leaving them legless to rot in the woods, yearning for human flesh if ya wonder why there are certain patients that disappear in the thin air."

Silence arched between the both adults for awhile as a heavy sigh flushed from the man of the cloth's toned chest, taking his time to ponder and reflect on his rare bird's words about Arthur Arden.

The truth was eventually that the day before Timothy visited the doctor of science's office by catching him strapped on the patient bed and the parcel with the mysterious, nevertheless, dubious souvenirs and badges along with the explicitly pornographic images stored together which mortified him and made him wonder what kind of a doctor is actually hired to cure the patients in the old asylum.

At first, incredulity inked his young-looking yet, handsome facial features with more vivid palette which questioned the devotional sister of the church, clearing her throat gruffily.

"I-Is that actually true about him?" The British aristocrat chewed on his lower lip for a split second, enquiring his right hand with stutter, produced by his baby pinkish lips.

"It's. This man isn't supposed to work in Briarcliff and his place is nowhere else than jail."

--- *** ---

Shortly after the aspiring Monsignor and his right hand fled her austere office as they decided to call the authorities to arrest the suspicious doctor and investigate him gravely, Arthur has just finished with consulting with one of his patients in his own office, seating on his hardwood bureau.

The sudden noise of police sirens that approached the notorious madhouse baffled him at first as he thought at first one of the inmates or the staff members are responsible to being called by the police.

The suddenness of the light door taps, echoing by tingling his ears caught him off guard and snapping him out of his train of thoughts eventually.

"Dr. Arden, may we enter?" The religious woman of the cloth was not only accompanied by the Monsignor, further, by a few police officers after leaking to them about the doctor who was hired by leaking each petty detail about him, numbering his grim past.

"What a bitch!" The senior doctor whimpered a muttering grumble under his breath as his elderly wrinkled, parchment complexion blanched abruptly due to the police sirens and acknowledging instinctively that Jude, his worst foe wasn't alone at all. "Of course!"

"Dr. Arden, they're coming for you!" The both devotional members of the church exclaimed in unison, whilst the both policemen, who were visibly much younger than the war criminal scurried up to the doctor of science with steel handcuffs and casting trustless glares at him. Without showing any alludes of mercy. Without showing any modicum of benevolence and warm welcome at all. Smug, vile smirk flexed her jaw line as they crossed their arms, contemplating the custody scene.

"Dr. Arden, you're under arrest for not only the Nazi souvenirs and attempted rape of a young woman, moreover of torturing and mutilating innocent patients, resulting their sudden disappearance! Any words for this?" One of the policemen handcuffed the Nazi war criminal, whereas the other cop grasped his already handcuffed wrists, dragging him out of his office.

"Screw both of you and you will pay for your deeds, Sister Jude and Monsignor!" The much older man bared aggressively his teeth, recurring glare shot as a cupid arrow at the both members of the clergy. Adrenaline and ire pumped into his veins as an erupting volcano as its lava overflowed beneath his epidermis.

When the elder doctor was dragged violently by the authorities so that to drive him to the custody until the trial which is going to take its place within a few months, the young woman of the cloth was pacing peacefully, nonchalantly in the profound hallway until the pleas and protests of Arthur Arden stopped her in a halt, pursing thoughtfully her lips, growling ferociously after her mentor told her the stark, ugly truth about him.

"Fuck you Nazi piece of shit! I shouldn't have trusted you earlier. Jude was absolutely right about you!" The juvenile blonde grimaced her youthful, porcelain complexion, gritting her teeth by grunting inwardly the inflammatory language which the nuns and priests were forbidden from using. "I'm so grateful war criminals like you with such past aren't going to see the light for the rest of their days." She continued as Dr. Arden was promptly dragged from the grandiose, old façade of the mental institution by seating on the passenger seat in the vehicle.