--- *** --- 

--- The Following Morning ---
--- 1st of March, 1965 ---

Within the elapsing hours perkily smoothing through the wee hours of the morning at flipping book pages' pace, Josiah informed Kit and Grace of their relative's arranged release from the hospital at last.

The following morning Sister Mary Eunice went early to the airport to not miss her flight to Pennsylvania, in order to catch up with her work, immensely and eagerly anticipating her elvish bare hands to register their strong-willed craft and mastery.

Even though it was the last time beholding the last night the British compatriot, anyway Judy was wisely informed about his vile essence's ominous intentions and kept herself safe as much as possible by seeking either a nun's or a priest's help to arrange the exact day of the British compatriot's conjuration. Judy deeply knew she wasn't all alone in her apocalyptically infernal, challenging clash with Demogorgon's recent prey of ominously unholy spiritual possession.

Furthermore, supernaturally violent elation contaminated the former devotional woman of the cloth and the creased sentiment of sheer elation encouraged her high spirits to glimmer a thousand patterns of mirth. Mirth beautifully invited decorating her facial attributes and the thick veil vibrantly scintillating illuminating beneath the vibrant spotlights of the absolute reality, cusping with her celestial reverie, gearing persistently.

It has been almost a day since the former licentious jazz nightclub singer has beheld Kit and Grace, even imbibing with her pools of profoundly expressive hazel their frequently optimistic, beatific smiles, glittering abstractly past her vision and hazily fogging every pattern of hideous despondency.

Jude would love to be back at her only home, where for a couple of weeks mustering up the scintillatingly beatific atmosphere suffocating the small, nevertheless, cozily convenient household. She would love to see their welcomingly sunny smiles, cracking their facial expressions abruptly.

Jude would love to desolate the medical institution's corners with its rich reek of heavy medicaments, acute illnesses, eventual demises and the frequency of human perspiration and footsteps greasing the dusty tiled flooring with its ghosting pace hovering up the surface aloofly.

As soon as the blonde's arranged release was efficiently depicted by altering her appearance from the sombrely contrast of her low-spirited, foully melancholic physique of the mere, indifferently achromatic hospital patient into the mere, beamingly breathtaking woman. She participated in the general population by brushing her hair, smartly, nicely dolling her up outstanding physique and sheer glossiness glimmering from head to toe as a recently blossoming palish tiny star, cheerfully resuscitating in the nocturnal sky.

In the interim, the juvenile couple eagerly anticipated the former holy woman to flee the grandiose hospital's façade, climbing up past their visions which lively supervised the ocean of strangers, identified either as nurses and doctors or otherwise patients fleeing or entering the façade's eerie walls like gates of hell. They determined their lives' destiny between the presentable life and the ferociously bloodthirsty grim of death.

In order to presentably surprise the sole true family addition was leaving their home slightly earlier and searching the flower store for a desirably magnificent bouquet that was actually gardenias. The gasman's mammoth, satin hands were fastening with its benevolently dancing spidery masculine, strong fingers the gardenias' bouquet with its almighty alluring fragrance of life and nature's authenticity.

"Hey look, Kit! I see Judy!" Nudging her boyfriend's elbow to taunt him, they speared their gazes at the petite frame of the former nun, which was headstrongly vigorous marching up to them after cascading in drums the medical institution's massive. Whilst confidently camouflaged every kind of concern and despondence behind their beaming, sunny smiles, curved upon their cherub, nude pink lips.

The strong sentiment of leaped hearts with their unevenly passionate drums into their flimsy rib cage and electrifying goosebumps pricking their vulnerable epidermis as if they were in seventh heaven was the purest expression of vehement merriness.

"She is radiant as always." Lowering the decibels of his honeyed utterance, transmuting it into a sweet mumble pierced the French girl's ear with its delicate coffee-stained breath of his boyfriend without averting their magnified stares from the former devotional nun.

"Hi, sweethearts! I am so happy to see ya again." In the interval, when the trio's reunion was fully accomplished, subsequently the older woman spread broadly, perkily her satin, leanly alabaster arms into the thin air to scoop into a kindheartedly tight, mirthful embrace the younger adults.

The amorous friendly nicknames, sailing out of her berry-coloured, wet tongue jingled angelic hymns into Grace and Kit's sensitive ears and affirming the embrace fluently while securing the Bostonian's upper back, molting into the mutual warmness of their intimacy stretched its feeble elasticity.

"We also do, Judy! We dearly missed you so much. You don't have any idea what torture is waiting for your full recovery."

"Are these for me?" All of a sudden, when their hug retired emphatically, throughout the young man registered politely, gentlemanly to hand to the Bostonian the graciously breathtaking bouquet of gardenias of one of the favorite flowers for Jude, to inexorably brighten her day and her leave from the hospital after her two-week stay at least.

Moreover, her big round caramel brown cabochons wrenched widened in pure ecstasy and awe-inspiration on the gracious bouquet and sympathetically accepting it scooped into her silky arms, with a wonderfully beaming grin, parting her lips in a soft O with its baring ivory, megawatt teeth perched on her porcelain, elderly youthful complexion.

"They are gorgeous." The abrupt, violent heart thuds in her rib cage collided with the frail fabric of the bouquet with its medley of maroon, magenta, navy blue, sunny yellow and lime green flowers, exquisitely ornate to refill the void of its present.

She snapped shut her eyelids for a split-second her delicate button nose nuzzling the feathery soft, elegant petals of the gardenias. Gently childish tickled her skin and managed to inhale the stunningly succumbing fragrance of nature and life, greatly blending its incarnation of satisfaction or resuscitation at least.

"Not as gorgeous as you are, honey!" The French girl's cheerful tongue elaborated the chaotic mess of vowels and syllables into a heartwarming compliment, cordially saturating the veil of shadows and obscuring its darkness with stark sunlight, showering her from head to toe.

"I am not really, Grace. Yar a young and beautiful lady unlike me." The haphazardness of slitting widely opened her caramel brown cabochons, flaming her incredulity with the rough contour of her elderly attractive facial attributes while managing to tilt her head to lock up her stare with the pairing. "Just forget about me!"

"Well, you age like wine, Jude! It is undeniably inescapable." As soon as the both women's discussion transmuted into a stubborn heated debate with its sweltering heat warming the pit of the blonde's stomach. The gasman's interference was an inevitable phenomenon, circulating radially dynamic, attempting to persuade the former licentious nightclub singer to accept the sympathetic compliments, even if her denial was a far cry from false. "Every woman, no matter how old is she is gorgeous and unique in her own way."

"How ironic is calling somebody gorgeous who could be yar mother, Mr. Walker!" The naked, fugly side of the former woman of the cloth's sarcasm, prominently envenoming her exclamation couldn't suppress the swarm of vibrant, radiant snickers dripping from their mouths in no time. They retired from the monumental medical building without any ado, to distance themselves from the low-spirited, lethal atmosphere.

"I truly mean it and no matter if it was my mother or anybody, who would be my parent, I would still compliment them." When the swarm of snickers ceased to pitch the background noise of a medley of chattered strangers, car engines' drones and the vibrantly eloquently tuneful birdsongs, they composed the urban ballad of the common life. The trio perpetually was retiring from the medical facility's territory as their diligently docile, frequent footsteps ghosted the ground.

"No shit, sweetie!" The hoarseness in the young lady's halfhearted, unpredictable snicker clicked the roof of her mouth as her lusciously plumpish, nude pink lips pursued the gasman's and subsequently joined them with sealing sultry, brief kiss to resiliently share their formal love in front of the remaining general population, roaming the streets. "Let's go celebrate this special occasion with a picnic on the highlands after we leave the bouquet of gardenias at home!"

The oblivion vehemently veiled the large frame of the young gentleman as their impending destination was retiring to their small household and jubilantly organizing their picnic somewhere in the highlands' site to relish the photogenic aesthetics of the late winter.

"Kit, darling!"

"Huh, yes?" Due to the absent-mindedness, fogging his hurricane of thoughts, Kit was snapped back to reality and shifted his attention directly to his girlfriend, sensing the creamy, delicate sensation of her naturally roseate, plumpish lips seductively fiendish brushing his earlobe to draw his attention more efficiently swift. "I am sorry if I am quite idle."

"It is fine. We can celebrate Judy's release from the hospital after we leave her bouquet of gardenias at home and organize a picnic in the highlands." A heavy sigh freshly unloaded her fragile lungs and refreshingly inhaled the urban scent, greatly blending with the bouquet of gardenias' angelically amorous fragrance, tickling mischievously their tiny, flexible nostrils. "What do you think about this idea, Kit?"

"It is amazing. I am truly looking forward to that picnic."

--- *** ---

--- Later that Day ---

Within several hours, pacing at the flipping book pages' pace and violently bristling from daylight up to nighttime as the former pious holy woman spent the rest of her day in the company of the juvenile couple with the well-organized picnic and having dinner.

Subsequently, taking a shower and hopping up into their own beds, Jude's stealthy plotted the idea of fleeing the small household and finding a nigh church to seek either a priest or a nun's council for arranging the exorcism of Timothy shortly after Kit and Grace drifted off deeply asleep.

Orientating strong-willed in the bleakly dark outskirts up to the local Boston church in the small city of Massachusetts aided the blonde's nomad-alike roaming to seek the last celestial hope to save the love of her life from the darkly fiendish corruption.

The hallowed flickering lights that radiantly, buoyantly illuminated God's house in front of her pools of abysmally abstract, brutally honest hazel resuscitated instantly the celestial hopes of seeking holy aid which wouldn't cost her more than a few minutes.

Even though mild pangs of the conscience contaminated her cells and ounce with her stealthy decision, which was plotted solely by her and scarcely sharing with Kit and Grace her intentions of Timothy's conjuration and distancing her very presence from her only home at the moment, she wouldn't give up with an ease at all.

It was her essential quest to grant the vile essence's retribution or at least escort a devotional member of the church and witness the demon's demise inside the British compatriot's frail skeleton.

Judy didn't have any intentions of dumping the love of her life completely helpless, hopeless and despondent like a rag doll, dumped recklessly inside the remnants of the once functioning facility's building with its dilapidating, bleak barren barriers that secured its façade. Judy genuinely cared about and painfully loved with her entire heart Timothy.

It would profoundly prong her fatalistically if the altruistic sacrifice wasn't worth her life or at least her efforts at all. It would cost her years to persevere the demise or the nemesis of the former priest or at least galore of barren, wry antidepressants and heavy medicines to numb her own melancholy for a while until it still cages inside her.

Under no circumstances, the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer would forsake the love of her life severely succumbing and submerging in its own envenoming demise and diabolical agony. She would abysmally regret for the rest of her days the grotesque vista of Timothy's nemesis and even meagerly implying modicum of efforts to prevent the hazards from suffocating him to bones.

The meekly deplorable, wry footsteps of Jude ghosted the light-heavy, rich carpet of snow leaving tracks of her very presence once ghosting its path for a split-second. The dancing grandiose, twice her petite-frame silhouette incessantly bounced and waltzed the manipulated physique of hers, darkening even eerier the benevolently snowy carpet.

As soon as brittle gloved-hand manifested to push the monumentally cherry wood lacquered church's double door, the ill-famed, hideous squeak pitched the venomously doldrum the church's interior and tingling alarming tones into the senior clergyman who was kneeling beside the altar, reciting in a mumble his own hallowed, dearly midnight prayer.

"F-Father, bless ya!" The series of stammers were urgently crafted by the former holy woman's mouth after arduous construction, situated on her tongue tip, while managing to approach and diminish the distance which she shared with Father Malachi, who straightened his posture and encountering categorically the recent and sole chapel's visitor.

A hesitantly vague, kindhearted smile was tattooed on his heavy-wrinkled, parchment complexion.

"What may I help you with, my child?" The huskiness in the older gentleman's velvety tone didn't vanish in his inquiry, begging for her immediate response. The uneven, passionate heart drums hammered into her chest and panting heavily with her hitched breathing, plummeting down gradually the proximity which she and Father Malachi swapped altogether inside the chapel, earning God's skeptically sly gawks, transfixed on them divinely and vertically.

An eerie flat line sketched upon the former sleazy nightclub singer's naturally nude pink, deliciously plump lips, indicating her neutrality and passiveness at the moment.

"It is not about me, but it is about an old friend of mine."

"Tell me what troubles you about your old friend, my child!" As soon as the older gentleman maneuvered to interact with one of the exquisitely lacquered pews, a kindly faint dab of the flattened surface of his palm invitingly, kindly urged the younger lady to join him and seat alongside each other.

A dramatically cold-blooded, categorical doldrum settled and suffocated the holy façade for a while, which was troubling and villainously challenging for the middle-aged lady to sort her mind, in order to adequately forge her thoughts in a proper construction of vowels and syllables to formulate a rational utterance in the impending progressing time.

Moreover, her smoky quartz jewels blazed starkly fiery anxiety and concerns, immersing her indiscernible jet-black pupils with its reflected medley of emotions, exposing their true colours dynamically. In spite of it having been several weeks since the last time Father Malachi and Jude confronted one another's presences, nevertheless, he was the last promising hope of Timothy's vile essence salvation.

"Ya won't believe me, but he is actually possessed by the devil and it is not promisingly safe at all." Even if their platonically intimate proximity was measured in a scarce inch, nevertheless, the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer's petite, healthily frail gloved hands fashioned into furiously balled fists, snatching unnaturally rough, emphatically the knitted grasp of her hands in tandem. While securely perched on her lap and crossing her anxiously bouncing in tandem leg.

"Is it possible after Mary Eunice's exorcism the devil to get inside his body?" Meantime, the promisingly warm strawberry-coloured tongue of the man of the cloth ushered to greedily, gamely lick his dryly chapped upper and lower lip, reconsidering the former pious woman of the cloth's revelation. "He didn't demonstrate odds in his behavior after her exorcism and abolishment in Pennsylvania."

"Then, when everything started?"

"Once listening to the radio news along with my friends, Kit and Grace, as my only family as we acknowledged Timothy's escape from Briarcliff surprised me, but on the following night, he arrived in the small house and a handful of minutes later, he used supernatural power such as telekinesis and pyrokinesis on me." Assimilating whatever sloppily bled her bloodthirstily truthful lips, meaningful windows to the truth were perpetually interrupted with brief pauses due to her sharp exhales.

Then, inhales, balefully puffing her huge, round hazelish-brown embers with rubicund pigment and crystalline, translucent tears generously, antanogizingly gouged her lower eyelids.

The eerie flat line haphazardly flattened into a grotesquely unwelcoming, austere frown, unspeakably unforgiving permeating across her mouth.

"His diabolical prayers, worshipping Satan and the unholiness were pitching the silence. Furthermore, via his supernatural power, he locked Kit and Grace until he didn't finish with his daredevil game. I was hospitalized for two weeks, and he once was supervising me as a doctor in the company of Sister Mary Eunice who was a visitor."

"Urm, that was obnoxiously strange, Judy!" The suddenness of the older man's colossal, elderly veiny hand yanking amusingly the younger woman's hand into his to secure its grapple consolingly, his intuition honed up to inhale the smell of her naked, ugly melancholy, welling in her timid timbre.

"The only solution for this problem can be granted with an exorcism of Timothy. That is all that I can recommend, but hopefully, it saves his graciously golden, big heart from its devil's vicious claws."

"You have to exorcise him before it is too late. Or at least, if anybody dares to see into the face of evil like police, passenger or whoever it could be," Once the blonde's facial expression quaked into a barren, uncontrollable sob pitching the background, she ducked timidly, girlishly her head, whereas slamming her front ivory teeth to gnaw the raw spot of her lower plumpish lip to stifle the series of imminent sobs and blatant whimpers. "To stop him right away and bring him for the conjuration."

"I will do my best to save him from the devil's vicious claws and everybody will be safe forever and ever."

"I am afraid that is a false hope, and he will continue hurting the others."

"He won't!" An electrifyingly enticing massage of the senior clergyman's thumbs, grazing her brittle knuckles was reassuringly comforting with its ghosting touch, amicably bestowing her with sacred peace and warmness as the heavy rain of sticky, crystalline tears showered her well-sculptured chubby cheeks, tinged with childlike, naïvely unhealthy blush.

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✞Do you think that Jude is going to have a better life after her hospitalisation? ✞

✞ Are you solemnly believing that Father Malachi is going to keep to his word by bashing the demon out of Timothy's body? ✞

✞ I hope you liked and enjoyed the chapter as well. Don't forget to leave an outspoken feedback with your candid thoughts! ✞