A week later
14th of February, 1970

A week passed aftee the grandiose and spectacular 5th wedding anniversary.

Today was one another prominent day for Jude and Timothy, besides for other people who are in love.

As Ellie and Agnes were fighting over a rag doll as the whimsical older sibling didn't allow her younger one to play for a while, Tristan attempted to stop his combating sisters as the flooring in the living room became rather a battlefield for the children.

Timothy was being busy with embellishing the kitchen with candles and rose petals, spilling them from the kitchen up to the wooden stairs, hallway on the both floors, carpeting with abundance of rosy rose petals until they ended up to the king-sized bed, located in the bedroom. In this moment, Jude was setting the radio in the kitchen until a squeal sailed up to the children from no one but Agnes Jude, herself.

"Ellie and Agnes, just stop fighting!" Tristan tried his best to stop his sisters, preventing them from struggling though his failure.

"Please, sister! Give me your rag doll for a while." The blonde young girl insisted, dragging towards her the rag doll, in spite of Ellie's mulishness.

"No! You have already your own dolls." The eldest Howard child fought back, squirming the rag doll's other hand, pouting her thin, rosy-coloured lips. "That's mine!"

"Kids!" Jude stormed off the kitchen as she headed up directly to the living room as Timothy followed her to pry what was going on between the girls. "What are these squeals?" She furthered as she questioned in leery manner. She attempted to control her voice undertone. 

Once the concerned parents darted their eyes down to the fighting siblings as Tristan was trying to help, Timothy crouched down to Tristan, stroking his short curly golden hair, his fingers underneath its hair softness.

"Tristan, don't try to!" The former priest clarified as their four chocolate orbs met, offering him a reassuring smile, formed on his lips. "They won't stop fighting but you are so wise for trying to stop them."

"What's going on girls?" Jude crouched down as she was on her knees on the carpeted floor, inquering slightly irritated. 

"Mommy, she doesn't wants to give me her rag doll." Agnes complained in self-defense though she gave up as she released her hands from her older sister's toy. "She's so selfish and mean." The youngest girl huffed. 

"Ellie, let her have your rag doll for a while. She means no harm for your favorite and desired doll." Judy protected Agnes as she squirmed from Ellie's arms, giving it to the younger girl the rag doll, whereas Ellie folded her arms, casted an infectuous, glaring glimpse at her sister, muttering something under her breath. 

"But mom, she has her own rag doll. Why she wants mine?" The brunette girl enquired a plea, clutching her tiny fists. 

"Tris, are you okay, sweetie?" Timothy asked his son as he fondled gently his plump face.

"Yes, I am, father. But I am worried for my sisters." Tristan responded courageously, lightly bowing his head as he sensed a turmoil cooking inside him. "Just imagine if somebody was hurted." 

"Oh, Tris!" In the meanwhile, the former monsignor pulled his son towards himself as he threw his hands around his neck as the young boy dangled his wee arms around the nape of his neck. "They will be fine. You are smart children, however, Ellie should be a bit more generous towards you and Agnes...you know." He whispered between the hug.

"Ellie and Agnes, you are wonderful children," The middle-aged mother glanced at her both daughters, scanning in swift motion their faces until she shifted her eyes to Ellie. She inhaled in jittery manner, unable to rest for a single second as she glared down at Ellie. "Nevertheless do not fight over toys which whether your sister or brother doesn't wants to give you. They should have some mercy and give you the toy that interested you to play it for a while until you get tired of it." Jude lectured the eldest twin, stroking her both daughters' hairs, caressing them as her long, subtle fingers combed their tresses. "Learn that from me and show some generosity, at least." 

"Thank you, Mommy!" Agnes expressed her gratitude towards her mother as she can finally play with her older sister's rag doll, cuddling it. "You are so nice."

"You don't need to thank me, sweetheart! I don't want any pandemoniums to bother either of us." In the interim, she peppered their baby pinkish tinted cheeks with feather, loving kisses as the both males in the family broke off the hug at last as Timothy started to peck kisses on his son's both cheeks. 

Sometimes there were scorching and devastating conflicts between Ellie and her younger twin even sister, scuffling in infantile way over toys and petty stuff which exasperated Tristan and Agnes, of course. Counting Jude and Timothy as they tried to advise their rays of sunshine to calm down. Although the parents' lectures and words, Ellie was still the riot amidst her siblings and detested the rules, besides she was a mutinous little girl. 

In the meantime, Ellie's frosty tears almost betrayed her to tumble down her creamy cheeks as her eyelids were flooded with dew, soaking them as she sniffled quietly to herself.

"You think my sister and brother can have everything I have?" The young brunette posed the question desperately as she held her face in her both hands. 

"They aren't trying to take your toys and dolls away from you, darling! They just want to play with your toys for a while." The elder blonde comforted her daughter as she took her both daughters in her arms, soothing them with her velvety voice.

***

"Who's there?" Laura asked as she headed towards the front door to unlock and check who's disturbing her during the St.Valentine's day.

Once the old lady stepped before the front door, she twisted the golden key until another click floated in the background until her hand moved up to the doorknob, rotating it until the door opened and who to behold in the late afternoon of Saturday. Her youngest son as he concealed something behind his back as he grasped it.

As soon as the door opened broadly, their light eyes met as she locked up his azure blue eyes, radiating conflicting, cataclysmic feelings and emotions, brewing inside the juvenile priest. 

Over the past days even weeks and months, the native Salems denigrated behind Alexander's back about his menace towards his mother and the spread word about his crimes and wrongdoings, commited back in Boston. Reckoning the rape case a couple of years ago. Laura couldn't live with the remorse of hiding secrets anymore since the devastating dinner night back on Halloween and his menace as she informed not only her children and her husband about Father McKenzie, furthermore the citizens of Salem were already informed as they heard occasionally one of the McKenzie's family members discussing the youngest one and about his notoriety in Boston. Immediately after, he became one of the most notorious priests in Salem though he tried to hoax the others when they inquired him about his past in Boston and his deeds. He successfully got away from the troubles. 

When the youngest heir of McKenzies figured out his notoriety befell him again especially in his birth city. Alexander kept his wits about him as he yearned for a vengeance over his family for spreading the word in the entire small city and for this purporse, he is more than determined to achieve it in relentless way, without regretting for it later on in the time. The bottle of envenomed red wine that he held behind his spine was for his family to savor it and die slowly but surely as their cells are being plagued, numerating their organs. He plotted this for days and to yield it in discreet way. Without somebody's acknowledge. What the holy man hankered after was nobody in Salem to acknowledge his nemesis over his family. 

After he found out about everything, he felt not only betrayed by his whole family, but also he abhorred them to bones and wanted them to suffer whether quickly or slowly, without hampering himself with burden of rumors and comments behind his back as he was all ears and in charge everywhere. 

"Ah, Alex! Hi, my sweet boy!" Laura answered optimistically as a genuine, radiant smile curled up in the corner of her painted crimson red lips. "What a surprise for your arrival on St.Valentine's day!" 

"Mother, the reason why I am here is," He paused as he fakely cleared his throat, rendering the atmosphere dramatic as he wore a charlatan smirk, distorting on his lips. Meantime, he showed the bottle of red wine as it seemed untouched, completely harmless for Alexander's mother as her eyes were in awe, admiring the bottle with alcoholic beverage since she was a keen fan of the wine and on every dinner with the family, she afforded to drink a single glass of red wine. "To give you something I know you adore." He momentarily handed the bottle of wine to Laura as she scrutinized the bottle, sensing the lukewarm glass underneath her palms and fingers. 

"Thank you, Alex! But we have enough wine at home."

"Oh, come on, mom! Don't be rude! I wanted to do a favor for you," Her eyes widened as he took a deep breath, seconds before resuming his sentence. When he mentioned that he wanted to do a favor for her, she was beyond dumbfounded. "It's like a gesture for an apology from the last time when I threatened you about our little secret. And let's not forget, this wine is special and it's not only for you, it's for everybody else in this family." 

"Special? Hmmmm!" She was pensively dithering whether to accept her son's offered bottle of wine or otherwise reject it though it might be obnoxiously coarse if she declined it. Further, she abstained from doing the opposite which is against Father McKenzie's will. Little did she know what if she tinctures a single sip of the red wine which her son proffered her. As an addition, she wasn't aware of the repercussions of it. "What do you mean under special, Alex?"

"It's not an ordinary red wine. It's nor the wine you usually drink on every family dinner." He pointed with a hand at the drink as if he was advertising the bottle itself. Then he released a wicked, instictive chuckle. "It's an extraordinary one." The juvenile, stubborn priest lied. 

"If you say so, thank you very much, my heart!" Then she snaked arms around her son's upper back as he wrapped his strong, muscly arms encircling her shoulders.

***

"The entire McKenzie family was found dead, as a result of poisoning after drinking a glass of wine. The perperator is unknown yet and the police is currently investigating the three story mansion, looking for some traces and piece of evidence though the results are a total zero for this moment."  The radio that the local Salem church was equiped with, spoke and announcing the recent news during the nuns and priests' dinner as they were gathered altogether even Father McKenzie was part of their company as well.

"Eventually according to one witness, a young man, dressed in ecclesiastical attire, was spotted on the front door of McKenzies' mansion, holding a bottle of venomous red wine. He's for sure the one, who delivered to the family a nemesis." All of a sudden, Alexander earned the priests, priestesses and nuns' sceptical glares, fixed on him as if he was a yob and his parents verged to ground him, depriving him from the things he desired for mostly. 

In the meanwhile, the young priest proceed with the dinner as he gave them the brush-off, utterly focused on the dinner meal which molted in his mouth, filling his nostrils with its striking aroma. He snappishly pretended like they didn't exist to him as they had a sea of questions that will let him down. What he was currently planning to do to finish his dinner as swift as possible and flee, and go back in his dorm, pray and lastly crawl to the bed. 

"He seems suspicious." One of the nuns added a commentary as she whispered to the other nun by her side, during the dinner as she glanced scowlingly at the member of the clergy, who's pressumably the perperator. 

"He's doubtlessly! I don't know how he's approved to be part of us." The second nun evoked inwardly, gossiping behind Alexander's back. 

***

"The cheesecake which you baked is scrumptious. It's lovely, my rare bird!" Timothy complimented Jude's cooking for sequential time as a smug smile flourished on his fresh, still young-looking face as his cheeks were sanguinely airbrushed. 

The couple were having a romantic dinner in the kitchen after the children had an early dinner and were put to sleep with a lullaby for extra good night sleep as they were way too young to be awake whenever they want. 

Jude and Timothy were celebrating St.Valentine with a romantic dinner at home instead of going on a restaurant just like on the day, when they finally marked their 5th wedding anniversary.

Hours ago, the blonde was being busy with baking classic vanilla cheesecake and spend a handful of hours in the kitchen just because of the sweet that she baked, following properly the cooking book's instructions. 

In addition to the St.Valentine's romantic and superb atmosphere, the radio was turned on as it played currently a lovey-dovey song, levitating up in the background, jingling in the both former devoted members of the clergy:

"Before the day I met you. Life was so unkind. But you're the key to my peace of mind. 'Cause you make me feel."

"Thank you! I cannot clearly recall when it was the last time when I baked a cheesecake." Jude confessed as she couldn't suppress a guturral, raspy chuckle, escaping her applied in ravishing red lips, grabbing her glass of white wine, sipping it as she left it aloof on the kitchen table.

"Don't be too modest, sweetheart!" Timothy scoffed at her as she couldn't help but burst laughing at his peculiar sense of humor. "Whether if it's the first time or not actually the first time you are baking it, it's still wonderful. I cannot lie!"

"I believe you!" The former nun responded, savoring the cheesecake slice in her plate as her fingers were firmly rearranged around the silverware fork, seconds before masticating. "The music is marvelous. The atmosphere is marvelous and romantic. The food is yummy. But guess how our kisses might taste after all this!" She asked a rhetorical question in mocking, seductive manner, winking at him as his face all flushed suddenly, sensing his skin's temperature burning if it was doused in lava. 

"You make me feel. You make me feel like a natural woman (woman). When my soul was in the lost-and-found. You came along to claim it. I didn't know just what was wrong with me." Aretha Franklin was still singing eloquently in the kitchen's background, fueling the romantic ambience. 

"Honey, aren't you hungry anymore?" Timothy questioned concerned once when Jude reclined on her chair, leaving the used silverware fork in her plate with her unfinished cheesecake slice, gasping in fatigued way. 

"I don't want to exhaust myself since it's coming a bit too much for me. A lot of food, but no movement." She explained as her hands crawled down to her small belly that formed after eating and drinking, her fingers lightly rubbing on circles her vaguely swollen belly, lowering down her hazel orbs to peep how her belly looked through the exquisite bloody red evening dress which she wore specially for Timothy especially for this remarkable occasion. 

In the meantime, Timothy's chocolate brown irises shifted down to Jude's hands, following the motion of her fingers by the way they gently kneaded her abdomen, wearing an optimistic, composed smile, honed in the corner of his wine stained lips. 

All of a sudden, Timothy's eyes widened once Jude got from her chair, aiming in strolling, elegant gait up to him as her hazel eyes, radiating sultry aura and passionate energy were launched down at his astonished facial expression. 

"Till your kiss helped me name it. Now I'm no longer doubtful. Of what I'm living for. And if I make you happy I don't need to do more."

***

"The cruelest thing of all is false hope!" Alexander muttered to himself as he was scribbling down notes in his diary, keeping for himself and describing his daily life in general, besides behind the four walls of the church. "Damn it, hypocrites!" Under the emphasized word hypocrites he meant not only his family, but also the rest of the clergy in the local Salem church who glared at him during the dinner. 

He was all alone in his dorm room, being encompassed by the cold climate and the partly pitch black room as the flame of the candle was the sole light source, dimly liting up the dorm itself. 

Father McKenzie not only felt betrayal from his own people who he loved with his entire heart and has never hurted, further, he felt desolation, his mind sinking in the abysmal, funereal seas of worrisome, arduous thoughts, resourfacing inside like halfly destroyed wooden boats in the ocean. 

He wavered whether to flee Salem and run away back in Boston again or otherwise stay in his birth city until the authorities commence to be after him. After each step of his. If the young, manipulative holy man flees in Boston sooner or later, it will be easier for the Boston police to snatch him and enquire him plenitude of questions over Briarcliff, the rape case and his deeds as well. 

On the contrary, his contemporary life in Salem wasn't as easy as he thought. It was just similar in Boston or perhaps slightly better. 

He was secretly celebrated solemnly when he realized his plan has worked successfully though the native Salems are already aware, who delivered the bottle of toxic red wine earlier today. At last but not least, Alexander is more than determined to scurry away from Salem as much as possible, returning back in the small city of Massachusetts, where his fame was rotting. His family was already empoisoned. 

Notion of pride, polished in gold, settled in his heart as it hammered in his chest in the thought of having a revenge on his family though it significantly damaged his reputation, drastically affecting the people's opinion on him. 

***

"These arms of mine, they are burning. Burning from wanting you. These arms of mine, they are wanting. Wanting to hold you." Another romantic song played in the background as the couple were already drowning in their own desires and passion, fulfilled with passionate cries, escaping the top of their lungs and sweet lips.

"Oooh, your lips taste wonderful on my neck!" A muffled moan set free from the top of the former nun's lungs as she straddled Timothy's legs, sitting on his lap as her frail arms were thrown around his neck as she cocked back her head, arching her milky neck, shut tightly her eyelids, relishing the voluptuous moment they shared whenever they are solus. 

Timothy's smooth hands held her waist in grasp, tipping her abdomen through the dress's fabric as her mane of old Hollywood golden curls cascaded down to her mid back as she arched her neck. His soft, wine stained lips were assaulting her neck with nibbles the silken skin of her neck, besides peppering in the beginning with feather and lovely kisses until they escalated ferociously. In this moment, her pubic bone was rubbing against his crotch, sensing his boner beneath her straddled legs.

"Your neck tastes better with the wine that lingers on my tongue and lips, sweetie! You have no idea how sexy is this." He whispered as she chewed her bottom lip in tempting manner as she ran fingers vigorously through his chestnut, neatly combed hair. 

"And if you would let them hold you. Oh how grateful I will be. Come on, come on baby. Just be my little woman."

"Oh, Tim! Stop talking and just fuck me, because you don't have any clue how real good I can make you, my sweet boy!" She passionately cried, unable to resist the urge to increase her voice tone's decibels as a savage beast. As their dirty talks proceed, Jude's folds were soaking and soaking even more, whereas Timothy's crouch got tighter as his manhood was being aroused by the magic words she spilled. 

"As you insist, my rara avis!" He compliantly obeyed her as he continued to attack her neck with streamy, enticing kisses as he used technically his teeth to tease the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Once we are in the bedroom, I will beg ya to fuck me harder so that ya will fuck me to blood until bloody juices ooze from my core." Their insobriety peaked as they couldn't control themselves anymore as the desire and lust prevailed, whilst the alcohol in their blood infected them to be prone to say and do things which they might be less rougher if they were sober eventually.

"Just be my lover, oh. I need me somebody. Somebody to treat me right, oh. And I need your arms, loving arms."

To be continued...