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"Be careful, Dana! Hopefully it's not the real Bloody face out there to collect your bones fkr his Thanksgiving culinary!" When the ginger's very presence managed to be out of your sights, subsequently the medley of your wine and meal-stained greased lips manifested to curve into the sarcastic scoff and the ocean of pensively prudent embers igniting their very flames to kindle you instantly.

"Good advice until that psychotic bastard doesn't make her kicking the bucket!" The haphazardness of the young man's wine-stained chapped, cherub lips curled in his recently crafted utterance after the vowels and syllables awkwardly lurched backward and forward on his berry-coloured, wet tongue. His meaty, masculinely delicate fingers danced around his partly pooling crimson insatiable liquor, lingering his optimistically childish, vibrant grin parting his lips in a wide O.

"I'm genuinely scared for Dana there might be a psycho on the run that is notorious for his crimes, performed on such," A cold-bloodedly heavy, distressfully rusty sigh jointed the Mexican compatriot's lungs, narrowing her exquisitely dark jewels at the hall, linked with the dining room and the kitchen for her own luck. She would have better certainly crystal view of the uninvited guest that was unceasingly spoiling their Thanksgiving celebration and enforcing violently the hostess, herself, to not even seat for awhile and share her valuably celestial, meaningful time with the people she platonically adored to the depth of her bones as long time friends.

You couldn't even put a finger on the recently awkward situation when the ginger fled the dining room to check on the front door the owner of the livid perturbation in the wee hours of the evening when the majority of the general populate were presumed to get back at their homes after their long and abysmally tiresome working hours to be ebbed off and subsequently vibrantly compensated with their families and friends.

Even though the German-Canadian compatriot's disappearance for awhile which may seem woefully innocent at first sight, anyway the scorching compound of ablaze disquietude and starkly numb coursed deftly through your veins and muscles. Of course, you would sacrifice its sheerly pointless segment of the elapsing time to discover the unknown visitor whose intentions would variate between malicious and benevolent! It wouldn't hurt to lift up your rear from your seat unless the exceedingly amplification of your adrenaline chimed you as well.

Anyway your curiosity didn't megawatt equated to the nosey journalists and the young children.

Long steps from the dining room to the imminent destination which was literally advancing in turtle's pace, Dana's femininely placid, resiliently silent footsteps whispering subtly against the luxuriously carpeted flooring until the hostess's elvish, marbled hand ushered to lower to the keyhole, in order to turn it with her bony fingers and subsequently the front door click opened consensually with pressing the doorknob. In a thoughtless moment after unlocking the door, the front door's sufficient broadness allowed with its angelically big scale of space the wealthy young lady to be embraced by the prospect of the ambitious Monsignor maintaining an adequate proximity gauged in a couple of inches.

The broadness of his celestially friendly, sympathetic smile, gingerly permeated past his mouth, his huge, roundishly expressive chocolate brown bijous shimmering its youthful glossiness, alight at the very thought of you after counting on his diabolical crystal intelligence to leak your current location, barely startled the redhead.

A prim, vague smile tugged at her mouth, managing to survey in a scrutiny in the corner of her lapis lazuli eye the tall, foreign figure beside her. Just a mere clergyman, who traded orthodox traits and characteristics like the other men, whose potently passionate, solemn dedication was namely to the church. The clergymen were presupposed to be harmless or at least the unholy wicked inkling of heinous intentions not eerily escorting them.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Monsignor!" The sole vowels and syllables to conjugate nimbly its utterance haul the awkwardness away from its territory didn't cease to amaze the juvenile lady's interaction with Timothy. Furthermore, they have never traded a personal encounter or interactions, in fact, it was her initial time to share her personal interaction with him even if he is solely priest for her. Even though the juvenile lady profoundly, brilliantly fathomed her recent interaction with the British aristocrat who was villainously possessed by vile essence, the pure embarrassment was starkly inevitable and immersing the atmosphere.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Dana!" The eerily huskiness of his English lilt puncturing his kindhearted greeting towards the German-Canadian compatriot, a glacial snake crawled and wobbled in the pit of her stomach, due to the fact, Timothy has never shared any personal moments with Dana, but something was out of the orthodox borderlines. He spoke her name with venomous honeyed fluency, trickling unceasingly through the smoothness of his politeness. They didn't know each other. Timothy solely has heard of her name thanks to you.

"H-How do you know my name, Monsignor?"

"I had interactions with Y/N!" In the interim, the older gentleman's weathered, pristine fingers fidgeted distressfully and apting to choir a tandem of toying idly with flesh on flesh. The deepness of his fiendish husky voice equated to his demanding nature when it comes up to work and pursuing eagerly his ambition. "It didn't mean to be worrisome at all."

"So are you that priest whom she really likes to talk about?"

"Did she?" Inclining quizzically a perky dark, thick eyebrow, the devotional holy man registered a sharp exhale unloading his ribcage.

"Just kidding!" A gullibly childlike, fatherly-soft giggle dawdled the ginger's mouth to drip sloppily as the half-heartedness of Timothy's interfered sheepishly boyish giggle pitched the background, jingling alarming tones into Dana's petite, sensitive ears. "However, she has seriously talked interesting things about you. You are interesting and kindhearted person, I guess!" The great blend of German and Canadian lilt utmost spotlighted Dana's revelation, lingering her appropriate eye contact with him.

"That's warmly kind of you, Miss Dana!" Manipulating his head in meek, humble nod, the prim shyness playing out in the British compatriot's initial colloquy he swapped with nobody else than one of your friends wasn't discernibly noticeable at all. "I didn't mean to disturb you at all, however, send greetings to Y/N!"

"I'll, Father! Would you like to come inside to celebrate Thanksgiving so that to see each other?" A wickedly sinister, ominously villainous smirk imprinted gradually its own abstract masterpiece onto her chest with its vividly expressive, artistic ink nuances, illustrating the refrained smirk which would lukewarmly sinister leak the young woman's current humor and her intentions as well. They would be clearer than crystal. Purer than angelic innocence. Softer than lithium.

"Sure! Why not?"

"Good!" In a long minute of Dana's absence, consequently the corridor became victim of the lull of the recent visitor, accompanied by the hostess, herself. "Aren't you actually British, Father?" During the ginger's attempts to detect the older gentleman's real nationality, meantime, the inquiry caught you off guard as you choked on the another daredevil, delightful sip you managed to swig of the bordeaux liquor, lacing your teeth and tongue.

"I'm actually coming from northern London which means clear yes." The suddenness of your throat muscles to maneuvere the swigged liquor to gush down smoothly evades any issues you temporarily struggled to evade momentarily.

"That's interesting, Father! Come on! Take your seat!" When the pairing set foot in the dining room, consequently the spiritually possessed man of the cloth's very presence evolved celestially profound the twains of gems fixated on him as he seated against you. It was no surprise the British aristocrat traded his seat with nobody else than Barb and you. Even though your friends Frederic, Barb and Dana had never interacted with a clergyman, nevertheless, the bewitched spellbind of his very presence divinely emphasized their facial attributes and etching kindhearted, vague smiles at the corner of their lip.

"Good day, Father! Welcome to our club." The multi-voiced greeting which the younger man and the Mexican compatriot gingerly, presentably elaborated they squinted up their gazes at Timothy whose old-fashionedly dark, wool attires of the diocese graciously obscured his flesh, somehow they couldn't obscure entirely his mesmerizing, enchanting masculinity nonetheless.

"Just call me Timothy, Barb and Frederic!" All of a sudden, the British aristocrat readjusted continuously his seating posture occupying the cherry wood chair, furrowing his masculinely dark, thick eyebrows.

"Glad to hear it, Timothy!" A sheepish, diabolically ticklish blush tickled your well-sculptured, chubby cheeks when you bore your E/C bijous at the holy priest's cinnamon brown that imbibed your very identity in a mere ogle. "Wouldn't you like some wine?" At the moment, the redhead hasn't participated to join the others on the dining table as her German and Canadian lilt promisingly, austerely conjugated the vowels and syllables' mellifluous suggestion to the priest what he would like to drink during his stay.

"Yes, please! Just a bit less than the others."

"Just a second, Timothy!" Even when the redhead and the older man's colloquy maintained intensifyingly poetic, eyeless without shooting glances or stares, you were beyond magnified how Timothy hasn't even averted his smoky quartz big, rotund gemstones from you.

The German-Canadian compatriot managed to retrieve the bottle of wine and her pristinely dexterous, bony fingers working on removing the bottle's tap and thereafter blatantly cooing a low, bland groan of frustration that she has to retire to the kitchen to retrieve one more untouched glass.

"I'm dearly sorry! I really need to go to the kitchen for another glass. I will be right back, everybody!"

When the awkward doldrum settled in the dining room conveniently, welcomingly, throughout the long minute passing at snail's pace your pristinely youthful, perky fingers waltzed to brace your glass of fermented grape juice exquisitely pooling partly the surface and unnervingly mellow tipping and fingering the frail glass material, bedaubing your skin.

"Oh hi, Timothy! I didn't expect you to come and celebrate with us Thanksgiving." Due to your oblivion to greet him politely as you're the last person in the room to gracefully bestow him with your sheer, presentable politeness, anyway it was better late than never. An awkwardly mellow, bashfully girlish giggle bubbled from your feminine Adam's apple when he manifested to incline surreptitiously, mischievously an eyebrow, drawing its edge towards the bridge of his nose.

"I know it's dearly celebrated that national holiday there as I didn't want to look dumb enough to be all alone while the other American families are celebrating it," The profoundly rusty, husky infernal accent emphasizing remarkably, graciously the possessed holy man when he registered his mammoth, ghostly pale hand to reach up for his neatly combed back chestnut hair curtaining beautifully his façade as his virginally delicate, meaty fingers fingered his small, neatly-trimmed fingernails to clapperclaw creamily, slowly but surely unnerving his scalp, whereas lingering his glowing, alight smirk to permeate across his nude pink, plump lips due to your very presence, embodying the real notion of the real motive of his stay to be warmly swaddled. "Even though I'm not greatly fond of its history and the celebration, but since I'm here, I've to abstain from the impossible."

"To whine right?"

"Exactly, Y/N! I just told the same to Sister Jude and she is ruthlessly disagreeing with me even though I didn't want to mention the actual history behind this eerily merry holiday." Ushering his head to meekly, modestly bob in solemn agreement reaffirmed his emphatic position on the controversial topic as the hostess reentered the site with an empty, unused yet wine glass, shooting an agilely glowing glances at every guest, pronging with her acute lapis lazuli huge, expressively poetic cabochons. "Everything that delivers the relentless good vibes always has a scandalously grim history behind it."

"I've to second it, Tim!" The haphazardness of the Mexican lady to participate recklessly outspoken in the colloquy, thus she registered to fashion her petite, pleasantly tanned hand flatly to smack an affable, light pat on her hip mirthfully when Dana's absence no longer froze her guests with a glacial, patchy hollow. "But I don't want to pressure my tongue and vocal stings to discuss that controversial topic."

"Thank you very much, Dana! That's so kind of you!"

"Needless to be grateful for my hospitability to the guests!" Meantime, the hostess's fingers grasped promisingly firm, sufficiently efficient and cautious the bottle of wine to pour in his wine glass its mouth-waterringly hedonistic, photogenic sanguine liquor even though the brassly glimmering medley of cinnamon brown and topaz cabochons haven't unhitch iron-willedly ominous from your profile. "Cheers for our recently arrived guest that deserves a warm welcome from us!" As soon as the cheers process and the ecstatic amusement vibrantly suffocated each individual with broadly, wonderfully thickly slitted oral slits past their wine-stained mouths after exchanging mild clink of their glasses mutually and sipping hedonistically imprudent of the alcoholic beverage to hydrate their oral caverns and wet, strawberry-coloured tongues, thereafter you dumped aloof your own glasses for later on.

"So isn't that ironic your family is living there to celebrate that national holiday with them?

"They're rather sticking to my country's traditions, Frederic! But they have never had any intentions of moving there." All of a sudden, the older gentleman's orthodoxy virginal, creamy fingers crooked around his throat when he lightly choked on the recently consumed small quantity of the alcoholic beverage, widening gruesomely his gape and the speechlessness poetically gloomy, vividly sketching his facial attributes, while Frederic and you peered over your wine glasses and plates to transfix your stares, glinting your altruistic concern when the staged choke and eventual demise might befall the British compatriot.

"Is everything okay, Timothy?"

"I'm actually okay, my bird! You aren't supposed to be concerned at all."

In a long minute of embarrassing abstinence to not attract attention due to his humongous, devilish fear to be the divine center of attention on the celebration with spoiling with his problems, consequently the abruptness of the black out and the liquor coursing through his blood and veins relentlessly swaddled him icily as he flumped backward on the cherry wood chair, wrenching instantly shut his eyelids and biting his tongue.

"My goodness!" The suddenness of the hysterical panic harpooning bloodthirstily villainous your heart with its violent heart pulsations, hammering into your vulnerable ears, you and your friends lifted up your rears from your seats as you maintained to scarcely inch an adequate distance with the passed out body of the ambitious Monsignor. "No!"

"What are you actually doing, Y/N? He's fricking possessed and might hurt other innocents like us." Then the German-Canadian compatriot managed to slap faintly your hand when you opted to cup in the palm of your elvish hand Timothy's cheek as your other friends attempted to lug the larger frame to the guests' room and bid his wrists and ankles due to their clandestine plotted exorcism of the man of the cloth by hiring a handful of clergymen to exorcize the vile essence out of his fragile figure.

Author's Note: I know this story perpetually arouses the interest of the others, despite Timothy's scenes are way more often than Jude's, anyway I think he's emulating to the requirements for a protagonist even though Jude is between a protagonist and a secondary character, anyway bear with me for not including your favorites immediately! Since we peaked to the 20th chapter, what are your thoughts on the book, itself?