Previously on Wings of Light:

--- *** ---

"Cut the crap, sweetheart! The witches are in New Orleans, not in Monroe! Jesus Timothy! But anyway I can see that he's two children from the same ex-wife who was murdered by him and her skeleton was used for Halloween decoration. Andy is sent in an orphanage during his father's stay in Highway Vermont mental hospital for criminally insane."

"He's Capricorn, who likes smoking and drinking whiskey even wearing dark clothes, indicating his dangerousness and rogue character. And there isn't any information about his son Andy except he's sent in an orphanage just when his father was being institutionalized and Martha, Andy's twin was given to Sebastian, Cayden's older brother."

--- *** ---

"I think it's good time to mess with that little brat with a bastard son who's now in an orphanage. What a stupid son of the bitch, Ross!" 

"I think it's high time to get back to our business."

--- *** ---

"And we saw a patient file of a former patient who used to be jailed in this former mental institution who's also involved in a vicious massacre of young ladies thirteen years ago!"

"Yes, ma'am! We're pretty aware of Mr. Gray murdering those young women a long time ago and his criminal history!"

--- *** ---

"Yeah! You know Cassandra mother's acquaintance who didn't take control over rescuing herself and her granddaughter? Because she was so torn up?"

"Okay! Look, let me stop ya right there, all right? You are not responsible for this. Not in any way, shape or any form, all right? I'm very up-to-date on this thing, probably far more than yar, and there are...there are many factors to play there. Yeah? For instance, whether the battery has exploded, causing the disastrous fire or somebody else is responsible for this. But who has the efforts to put the bomb in the car's luggage carrier? Now that's a public record! You can look that up. And the whole system is run on 1950s techonologies in Mrs. Roberts' case by judging her vehicle how outdated is compared to the recent sixties vehicles. No! No, I really blame for some reason the government." 

--- *** ---

"Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy, whose trust, ever child-like, no cares could destroy, Be there at our waking, and give us, we pray, Your bliss in our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day." 

"I know how genuinely he meant to you, mom. I'm dearly sorry for your loss and everything. I've to admit my neglection towards you was sort of revenge which is a sequence of already deceased people and I'll never forgive myself for that. Thanks to being without me, you're breaking bad! I'm such an idiot."

--- *** ---

"And Ms. Collins, if you want to avoid any fleas, encumbering your German Pinscher's fur, you've to keep combing your dog's fur with flea comb by dipping it in a mixture of dish soap and water to kill the remaining fleas on the comb! Bathe him with a specially-formulated flea shampoo and therefore use flea spray to treat your pet anyway."

"Thank you very much for the advice, Doctor! I'll keep in mind how to treat Arthur's fleas anyway! Goodbye and have a nice day, Doctor!"

--- *** ---

"Not really after torturing ourselves with healthy dieted food for weeks! It's high time like once a week or a few times monthly to pamper ourselves with our common guilty pleasures. It's been years since I've eaten something more delicious than pizza."

"I can see it's slightly colder. I'll make sure to zap it. Are you actually peckish, Judy?"

--- *** ---

--- Flashback ---

--- 15 Years Ago ---

--- 25th of October, 1951 ---

Late October was pacing at snail's gait with the perpetually chilly autumn breezes, daily rainy episodes and the phenomenal leaffall, dwelling out of their birth home and relentlessly venturing toppling over the ground with luxuriously lavish carpet of multicoloured leaves.

Nevertheless tonight composed the nocturnal atmosphere with its own quietness, whistling its own ode in Vermont.

Cassandra's birthday was due in almost mid-November and she was already asleep in her bedroom, while her mother has brought another client over their small household to earn sufficient cash for her survival and fulfill the patchy financial binds which were binding the young woman.

It's been a while since Andrea was no longer dating her pearly decent friend Gus, known as the most popular and presentably prestigious lawyer in Vermont. The heartache of acknowledging how futile was dating somebody who didn't have the energy even the time to gear up their romantic and sexual life was tearing her down like a broken child whose parents didn't have enough time for him to provide sufficient quantity of time, emulated to each adequate parent's celestial affection and attention. She wasn't feeling like her normal self anymore. She wasn't sensing the unconditional love which every adequate, loving and caring man even inner circle face even with be short of time due to the unconditional daily work refilling his daily schedule would provide her along with warmness and comfort. Despte Gus's attempts to provide financially his ex-girlfriend with enough money to pay for any ongoing, unpaid yet bill or anything for Cassandra's school equipment, it still unconvered the entire financial issue at all.

The common one-night stands with a few clients daily before Cassandra was home and before bedtime were the sole alternatives for the young woman to be hedonistically rewarded for selling her own body, labeled with variety of prizes, depending of the customer, itself.

The recent gentleman who was appointed for an one-night stand with the single mother was a man in his mid-20s with leanly muscly, toned body structure, exquisitely and gracefully contouring his masculinity. His outstanding chocolate dark skin tone, presentably matching with his amber brown gems and elegantly plump, luscious lips were ornamenting his full, heart-shaped profile with his indiscernible jet-black neatly combed haircut, capping above his ears and thick, expressive eyebrows. He was standing 6'5 and compared to the prostitute's petite frame, Kenneth Tyresse was outstandingly much taller, resembling a marble statue if Kenneth was actually standing beside Andrea. Last but not least, his grandparents are African emigrants, whereas his siblings and parents are eventually Afro-Americans due to the roots.

"That was damn good, Kenneth!" The Wisconsian mewled series of shrilling moans and groans, yet lingering on her throat in levitating vibration after flipping on the other side of her double bed and her lover planted inside her climaxed core his own marbled seed, flumping heavily on the bed, stilling his both strongly muscular arms around the blonde's bare, satin waist. "Your doing wonders, aren't ya?" The sheer mischievousness in the Wisconsian's rhetorical inquery didn't fade the duo's lingering merry grins, outstandingly attempting to catch their breathing and the series of monotonously frequent pants thudding their ribcages. Stickily pleasurable perspiration, elating orgasm and pure muscular spasms were clung to their figures, occupying yet the outskirts of the double bed. Their heart rates perkily rabid increased and potently affecting the frequent heart pulsations, hammering into their chests.

"It was just fantastic,"Vowels and syllables lurching embarrassingly at snail's space on Kenneth's wet, strawberry-coloured tongue were almost dying on his tongue tip with an ease due to their hitched breathings and his lusciously cherub, plum lips pursuing his one-night stand lover's sanctum of insatiable succumbation. "Andrea! You're also doing surprising wonders." Seconds before sealing her lips with his, his colossal, delicate hand's fingers maneuvered to tuck a fistful of stray, greasy gilded strands behind her petite, flexible ear and fixating his amber brown jewels on her sheerly appealing facial attributes with its glossy sweat glimmering past his vision, whereas his other hand managed to cup her well-sculptured, averagely chubby cheek. In the meanwhile, their coated in bountiful layer of perspiration naked chests synchronized in featherly soft graze, mutually sharing warmness and Kenneth's kinkily thick, dark chest hair amalgamating with the peebled tiny, naturally mauve nipples due to the sanctuary of wondersome, divine intimacy they shared in the circle of lust and under Lillith's studious gaze.

"I think we're doing equally wondersome wonders, honey!" Shortly after sealing one another's mouths in resiliently insatiable kiss, silencing the both young adults for a split second and the blatant slurps of savoring one another's mouths in waltzing tandem, subsequently they broke off the kiss and locking up each other's intensifying ogles as Kenneth was gentlemanly gently, tenderly fingering and twirling a fistful of perkily greasy aureate strands on his forefinger, his still hard crotch meagerly poking her inner thigh.

In spite of it's been an hour since the duo united for first time in lustful intimacy that was for their hedonistic sport, the prostitute somehow sensed myriad of affectionate comfort and warmness into the Afro-American's company even though there have been abundance of gentlemen who've already passed altogether their one-night stand's journey with crawling in the bed like ferociously savage animals and reccuringly creasing the bedsheets. The majority of the prostitute's lovers for one night weren't keen enthusiasts of keeping themselves gentle and soft with their objects of hedonistic sexual desires at all and just shortly after they played their own cards right, consequently the sole task they're accomplishing was gathering their discarded attires and underwear just a couple of moments before fleeing her small household and throughout continuing their lives in the same way without turning their backs to the past and barely paying attention to the numerous of stranger ladies they've got laid for sole nocturnal episode.

"It's true! It's better to not put anything above in its level than anything." Instantly, the young man bobbed his head in solemn agreement, his mouth lowly humming an absent-minded melodious tune and mumbling angelic anthems into the Wisconsian's ears, molting into its tunes and the comforting, filling the hollow's patchy gaps presence of the Afro-American. His warm champagne-stained breath tenderly brushed her flawlessly alabaster facial skin and fanned the facial tissues with its delightful delicateness. "It's like comparing the smart to the intelligent person. There is almost no difference just the definitions are slightly different." Jubilance in their hoarse chuckles didn't vanish momentarily while grinding their tongues and vibration bubbled up into their throats. The reccuring blinks in choir were photogenically delighting for the both juvenile adults while either the pauses or the resiliently serene doldrum was numbing the bedroom and the nightstand's lamp was partly illuminating the thickly, selflessly mantled in ebony room.

"No shit, Kenneth!"

Lethal doldrum zipped their lips and sharing series of moments in pretty enjoyable hush in admirations of certain facial attributes and maintaining a timeless eye contact without sweeping off their featherly soft, vague smiles from their faces, partly illuminated with golden saturation.

Although the Afro-American has portioned partly his hectic daily schedule from the jazz band up to his lover's bedsheets, he sensed the closure they mutually shared was rather marvelous for the pairing and he didn't have any intentions of returning at home for the rest of the night by following the breaking news, following his vegetarian diet consisting masticating whether vegetarian soup or salads and laying on his bed, blankly, glassily contemplating the dark cloaked-clad ceiling for hours and pensively overthinking his existence and the success in his jazz band as pianist, playing major role in the cover songs' instrumentals and composing its entertaining, smooth tunes. Moreover, his career as jazz pianist is ongoing for almost a half a decade and thanks to his friends, instead of wandering penniless and homeless the streets of Vermont without an exact direction.

Furthermore, it wasn't a child's play for him to date a girl and most of all, sating her indulging, sore needs at all. No wonder once when he dated a young lady approximately his age a couple of years ago, they splitted up right on their first year anniversary just because of seeing her true colours.

Even though the majority of his peers or at least the young men in their mid-20s were already happily married with adorable children and a spectacular woman of their dreams or on the contrary single parents, raising on their own their children.

"Andrea, I've something to confess to you!" Stilling his amusingly warm, clammy palmed hand on her cheek and a handful of delicately nimble, long fingers tracing her well-carved, elegant cheekbone, the honey in his timbre was chanting lullabies to the single mother effortlessly, Andrea wrenched widened in awe her midnight black minerals, darted to his charming softened abruptly facial features, spellbinded not only by her ethereally youthful beauty, but also her golden and huge heart, oozing of rich goodwill, indisputable sympathy and maternal understanding which was perpetually taught to her from her inner belief when the life fated her to be a single mother and not having successful, everlasting relationship with her exes.

"What would be your confession, darling?" The honeyed, friendly nickname sent paradoxal paroxysm to Kenneth's frail skeleton and warming the pit of his stomach, while knotting the nape of his delicate neck with her spidery palish fingers, whereas her mouth conjugated the velvety whisper with her Wisconsin lilt. The honesty was one of the crucial keys to the hooker's heart and platonically affectionate attaching to her spiritually and physically, no matter how flawless every human being was eventually.

"As my favorite nun," The sheer sarcasm, vomited in the younger gentleman's utterance pause couldn't resist the older lady's healthy snicker and subsequently participating in the healthy laughter, pressing a doting peck on her temple. In the interim, the blonde captured between her front ivory, firm teeth her lower lip, thus grinding the sharpness to scrap the raw spot when their snickers no longer pitched the background, stifling the impending laughter. "I'm confessing to you that I really like you. I just want to get to know you more as person rather than physically."

"You know, Kenneth, your wish," The pause strongly triggered to zip their plumpish, naturally roseate lips whilst managing their noses to rub altogether in synchronizing tandem and melting into the tenderly feather-soft Eskimo kiss they mutually swapped, inhaling the inescapable fragrance of orgasm, human perspiration and lilacs' perfume, permeating in the sufficiently expansive room. "Is my command!" At the moment, the older woman smacked her lusciously rosy-coloured, plumpish lips to pepper his cheeks with affectionately assaulting kisses into which the younger man molted mellowly.

"I know. I'm going to the kitchen to get for both of us cans of Big Red cherry soda, if you don't mind."

"O-Of course, I don't mind, honey!" All of a sudden, the young man hopped out of the double bed in no time and categorically heading towards the door to retire to the kitchen, in order to retrieve two cans of cherry soda. "Go for it!" Spreading widely her leanly long, unblemishedly marbled legs and squinting up lazily at Kenneth, who was collecting a handful of recklessly discarded garments to retreat to the kitchen and his deftly fingers were persistently working on putting on his steel blue sweater with narrowly round neckline, solely exposing his delicate neck and followed by his pair of comfy, practical light denim jeans after his charcoal gray pair of boxers, resisting his hungrily bulging manhood.

When Kenneth was enough dressed up to cover his most pearly intimate part of his frame and diminish the chances of catching cold even some of the passing strangers startle at the vista of the fully butt-naked gentleman, his presence occupying the very kitchen for several seconds only, subsequently his feet were swaddled warmly shoed in comfy slippers in the jet-black corridor.

Further, Andrea was somewhat a fan of soft drinks to satiate her crave for them and imbibing them once a week if she'd enough money to pamper herself, despite the financial issues she'd usually encounter as a single mother with regular sexual activity with random men for two deals. Carnal pleasure and money. A criminally corrupted way to sell her own body just to earn a few hundreds of dollars per an hour at least, depending on the customer, himself. Even though the single mother of an only child had the opportunity to conversate Kenneth a couple of times just like random questions what they like drinking usually or at least seldom, besides their favorite poses, what they're looking into every representative of the opposite sex as personality traits strucking them first and foremost and so forth other commonly intriguing questions, begging to share their honesty right away, anyway Kenneth wasn't very fond of soft drinks and he didn't even include it in his vegetarian diet.

Without propping on the wall to poise his balanced posture while hopping up ruthlessly sloppy into the twain of convenient slippers, his impending destination to the kitchen was inexorable when his masculinely meek, hushing footsteps buzzed resiliently parlous even for the footstep detector or the shadows, encompassing him and hiding in the darkest corners of the rooms, supervising its loner in the nocturnal darkness. He was far from blatant to wake up Andrea's daughter Cassandra, who was already drifted off asleep, populating mindly the reverie's realm and dedicating to her slumber's richly productive imagination to depict the most bizarre pictures ever in her currently resting hurricane of thoughts. The young girl's mind and every ounce and scale of muscles, constructing her childish body wouldn't energetically properly functioning unless the sufficient quantity of slumber or rather, overnight rest is collected throughout the advancing nocturnal episode of late October's remaining days.

When the Afro-American guided cautiously through his destination to the kitchen and slowing down his pace from the careless stroll to the stealthy tiptoeing while incessantly manipulating in synchronizing motion his figure, haphazardly timid he pushed the kitchen's door which was askewly opened and his crystal clear memory recalled the events even taking its place an hour ago even when sharing one of the most sultriest kisses with the Wisconsian they're both in the kitchen and trapped her seating on one of the empty counters.

The nefarious creak of the somewhat opened door was dumped lightly swaying, whereas the Afro-American stepped inside the kitchen all alone and his fidgety, spidery fingers ushering to reach for the light switch until the void lightbulb, hovering above the dining table abruptly erupted celestially golden artificial light brightly illuminating even the darkest outskirts of the room which once fogged every visitor's vision with inevitable invincible ebony prospect.

Meanwhile, the jazz pianist ambled up relaxedly up to the top freezer refrigerator until his freshly deft fingers were hooked around the charcoal black handle and drawing its compact top door towards him to be embraced by the sight of frostily cold two cans of Big Red with luxurious bountiful blanket of ice shards blanketing the freezer's surface.

After scooping tenderly the cans of Big Red in his strongly muscly arm, his solely free hand pushed forward to slam into the top freezer with a vaguely, primly complacent smile brushing his plump lips until the nefariously vexing sound of broken window with its tossed stone, indicated in it's a handful of inches scaling size patched the lower segment of the windowglass and consequently the stone landing foolhardy on the shabby maroon kitchen rug.

What in first place the jazz pianist could do was startling and quivering his body muscles though he's clashed even with capriciously dissatisfied customers of facilities who were even prone to attempt punch or slap him balefully due to their inhumane mindset. Fortunately, whether the owners of bars, restaurants or other type of facilities where the crowd was ginormous and majorly young adults or on the contrary, security guards were the crucial reason why Kenneth Tyresse was safe and sound even purely safe in the hands of the facility owners' and other people that were open-minded in general, besides maturely taking care of the patchy business with such hard-heartedly illiberal clients and dragging them out of their comfort zones.

Although the young gentleman has never clashed with serial killers, his initial thoughts on the woe was one of the capricious customers found out that he's getting laid with an ill-famed hooker of Vermont. At the moment, Cayden was crouching down warily stealthy outside, in order to not draw attention from his imminent victim of his barbaric intentions, immersing his train of thoughts and frequently choiring in railing its vagons with his maliciously villainous intentions to harm innocents and ruining their lives.

As soon as the woe befell with merciless apprehension the juvenile gentleman, consequently he dumped the canes of soft liquid onto the kitchen table as they sloppily slithered from his promising scoop and aiming to open the minorly broken window until it swung enough wide to the nocturnal illustration of the starlessly ordinary night in Vermont. In the interval, his amber brown cabochons, eagerly studying in a scrutiny the angle of his vision which landed on the wee hint of another stranger's presence, subtly hunkering down against the decently painted brick wall of the small household and reciting in a feverently disquiet mumble a prayer for safety.

"Father, I come to You today, bowing in my heart, asking for protection from the evil one," Knitting his fingers in the adequate pose for prayer, faintly dropping in bow his head and his forehead meagerly brushing the rich pair of fingers and the maniacally passionate blatant thumps into his toned, muscular chest were pulsating intensifyingly alarming tones into his ears. The anticipating heart attack at freshly fragile age was a common symptom of the unpredictable accident. Notwithstanding the circumstances, Kenneth wasn't quite pious and the only times when he's attending the church like the majority of every averagely pious follower was on special Christian holidays such as Christmas and Easter for example. Last but not least, his parents were fanatically religious so that they paid a visit to the church twice a week especially in the weekends.

All of a sudden, the infamous Vermont serial killer straightened his posture gingerly, gracefully and surreptitiously climbing the brick wall, throughout snatching violently, slowly but surely the jazz pianist by his wrist, sending him shivers down his spine of chilly mortification and snapping tilted his head to encounter Cayden's sanguinely veiled-clad complexion and generous layer of perspiration gently glinting his temple. The beacon of the demise and vengeance was doing his own job.

Charging a hand, fashioned in viciously balled fist was dodged by the Afro-American's nimbleness and writhing his grasped wrist until his only free hand attempted to smack a heavy slap across Cayden's face. Unfortunately, the Italian compatriot fastened with his coldblooded grasp and dodging the slap in unnatural swiftness, objecting every kind of physical attack and a wickedly infernal, unhealthily half-hearted snicker rolled out of his tongue tip.

"Is that what you got," At the moment, Cayden's diabolical mockery jointed his utterance, flaring ferociously his tiny, vulnerable nostrils while quirking quizzically his eyebrow due to his imminent victim's weakness and inability even to strike somehow his tormentor somehow once at least. Series of punches were heedlessly aimed to Kenneth and his freshly juvenile swiftness welled in a raving fountain of adrenaline, pulsating into his body when the exceedingly imperiling moment with his clash with the Italian compatriot which mortified him to bones and couldn't even rest and think certainly clear for a single second. Restlessness inflexibly hazardous highlighted his facial attributes and his breathing was a frequence of hitchness, almost ethereally halting when multitasking with dealing with the villainous hazard that could even drain his life out of his mortal's body."Screw you!" Suddenly while dodging another punch from his tormentor, thus the jazz pianist leant down and subtly baring his ivory teeth to nibble the Italian compatriot's knuckle viciously. What Cayden could do was whimpering a sorely painful croak, scraping his throat and frail lungs, whereas his vocal stings were perpetually rusting, fraying due to the perpetually altering decibels, composing a woefully aching symphony of the whimpers. Meanwhile, the grasp released the Afro-American's wrist as he withdrew with an inch proximity, in order to retrieve a sufficiently honed up knife from the top drawer of the counter, whilst Cayden attempted to leap the kitchen window and within a couple of seconds later, the dumbfoundingly fleet reaction of the jazz pianist slitting lightly with the kitchen knife's edge the Italian compatriot's sporty leather jacket sleeved-forearm-clad was mildly slashing and leaving a daredevil knife's mark, imprinted on the attire's leather fabric and spurting minor blood like weakly running jet water in the wee slit incarnading the highly imperiled of its vulnerable surroundings to staining with variety of contaminating tarnishes especially his cashmere lily-white sweater, paired with his jet-black sporty leather jacket.

"Stay away from me, psychotic retard!" Hissing the stammer with the sluggishly conjugated vowels in the most preaciously life-risky moment when he would be dead if the psychopath was armed with any sharp weapon or a revolver, whereas the psychopath shook his head and overlooking the minor slit imprinting his forearm, due to the fact, his adrenaline was furiously pumping into his veins and eagerly erupting his tall frame. "Do not make me slitting your foul skin again!"

"Just don't challenge me, kiddo!" After leaping unambiguously versatile over the kitchen window and landing on the kitchen rug, whereas the younger gentleman recoiled abruptly. Berserk echoing his mind to bloodthirstily, ruthlessly stab him abundance of times until his heart halts to function even faintly, his muscles cramped for lethal eternity and resting into pieces with a lavish bloodpool, generously carpeting beneath his motionless corpse. Nevertheless during the younger man's attempt to heinously sneak behind the older gentleman's shorter figure and spinning to face his foe, consequently the single father snatched dexterously with his marvelously versatile hand the kitchen knife with its baptized in vague blood edge, disarming solemnly his forthcoming victim. "I thought you could outsmart me." The heinously silent, husky whisper didn't awfully startle the jazz pianist who was retrieving another kitchen knife in self-defense, whilst the serial killer maneuvered a dark, thick eyebrow to arch surprisingly due to his foe's stubbornness to encounter the death which Cayden bloodthirstily, unholily coveted. "But do you think a second knife would save your life? What will happen if I just," During Cayden's attempts to stealthily yank Kenneth's clearly unused yet kitchen knife for either chopping or damages, consequently the Louisianian manipulated his charging body to bump into the Afro-American with entire strength and fastening with his weight the trap he set for him and lowering his knife to spear his abdomen. "Have the second knife but I still can count on the first one and use it to kill your stupid brainless body?"

"Fuck," In the meantime, the psychopath's pale-pinkish, chapped lips curved in a bloodily smug grin, baring his clearly ivory, firm teeth for his youthful age, although sharing with the Afro-American a handful of years difference and his coffee brown minerals starkly glinted victoriously, insatiably satisfaction, transfixed on the perpetually weakened large frame, consequently his round, leanly athletic knees brushing the wooden planked kitchen flooring and vague creak whispering as background noise. Kenneth's amber brown minerals wrenched widened in speechlessness as it pierced through the stabbed knife into his abdomen and parting his berry-coloured, cherub lips into a wide O, raising his eyebrows and his ears honed up in no time when the vindictively vile soundtrack of the psychopath's chuckle, jingling alarming tones. "You!" Stilling the second twain of kitchen knife in his reccuringly trembling hand, irresisting the cramps and the vengefully agonizing pain that thudded his muscles, his lips persistently crafted the inescapable expletive, whilst the Italian compatriot folded triumphiantly his strongly muscular arms across his chest and contemplating the blowmindingly satisfying vista of his victim succumbed in his pain.

A quarter a minute of relentless doldrum was consuming the kitchen and stoicism wonderfully sketching the jazz pianist's facial features continuously and clumsily whisking his the sharp item to spear efficiently once his tormentor's inch at least, gritting his teeth to stifle the series of perfectly normal shrieks which would sail out of his mouth like stormy waves.

"I-Is there a woman in your house?" Meantime, the mauler ushered his posture to bend past Kenneth's severely bleeding's torso, mimicking devilishly his inquiry that begged for an immediate answer. Regardless if he earns the answer he's looking for in a split second or within a handful of minutes, the uncannily critical moment for the jazz pianist was unevenly elapsing as if that was his very last moment to experience whether nonchalantly or on the contrary neglectingly. The integrity was a divinely essential key, regardless if a simple enquiry or his word was extraordinarily remarkable nonetheless. Even though Kenneth wasn't home at the moment and a medley of restlessness, stoicism and most of all, hesitancy sketched upon his freshly young-looking, charming complexion.

"N-No!" Manipulating his throat muscles to devour greedily, refreshingly the salty lump bubbling up his Adam's apple, consequently his strawberry-coloured, wet tongue expelled the stammer with its forceful answer.

"Liar!" After yanking the stabbed knife into his abdomen and strong-willedly belching forward cataract of gore, staining the wooden planked flooring with ocean of wee bloody red circles and the younger gentleman conjugated breathy groan under his breath, despite his headstrong attempts to not manifest even modicum of pain's affliction and the grasp of the second kitchen knife accidentally, idly flumping in an unknowledgable motion, clinking, afterwards during his clumsy tries to resist rain of attempted stabs, within a couple of seconds a fatal slit across the nape of his delicate neck with its seized incessantly bleeding, bulging erupting lake of blood overflowing and eventually molding a rich bloodpool, carpeting the writhing almost dead body which was struggling between the life and death, squinting up his grimaced face and woefully stoic glare graining his facial attributes momentarily. The jazz pianist's torso pitched heavily the notoriously creaky wooden planks, murmuring series of creaks as pitching background noise and lingering his seethed widened in paralization amber brown cabochons and his corpse permeating leisurely.

What it hideously dumbfounded the younger man just a few minutes before finding his own demise in Andrea's kitchen was that she hasn't even ventured to flee her bedroom for example and pay a visit to the kitchen to check the ongoing bloody ruckus. What would happen if her deadly concerns erupted up her petite frame and most of all, her mind was somewhere else, questioning Kenneth's absence in the kitchen. Little did she know what may have happened to her one-night stand lover and most of all, why it took him slightly longer to scoop a handful of Big Red cans and just treasuring the rest of the night's elapsing time through long, deeply logical conversations that highly interested them and share cheers even sipping from their own soft drinks.

--- *** ---

--- A Few Minutes Later ---

A handful of minutes later after retrieving and getting dressed sufficiently humble to cloth the most intimate body parts, subsequently Andrea decided to retire to the kitchen since it's been awhile when her very presence has left her own bedroom.

As soon as Andrea shut the bedroom door behind her in the partly ebony corridor and the docilely feminine footsteps of hers silently buzzed against the carpeted flooring, an eerie flat line tweaked with great deal of efforts at the corners of her naturally rosy-coloured, plumpish lips and somberly enveloping his porcelain, freshly young-looking complexion, her spidery palish fingers delicate glithered every swan curve of the walls which swam along with her with each motion.

The diabolic shadows of the nocturnal daily episode which were also graciously mantling the dark corners of every property were amicably escorting her even in the loneliest moments when her daughter was profoundly asleep and drowning in her own sweet, imaginatively childish dreams, immersing her currently peacefully resting cells to reproduce anything imaginative or at least nicking the patches with a rationally logic.

All of a sudden, frosty chills gouged her tissues and bones while reaching the askew opened kitchen door with its brightly illuminated room, itself. Hesitancy contracted her swan neck with a bitter lump, bubbling up her throat gradually when her hands commenced quivering in choir. Further, when her deftly long, slim fingers timidly tapped on the askewly opened door, consequently with a single, meek push it swung opened and giving her bigger scale of gap to peer subtly.

Surveying in a scrutiny, whilst zipping her roseate, cherub lips in a thoughtful, careful purse, agreeable to not emit any kind of noises and her pools of midnight black peering inquisitively through the small gap and manipulating to roll them in inspecting quickly every corner of the kitchen especially the essentials morbidly chilled her until her gaze didn't lower to the corpse of Kenneth, baptized in opulent bloodpool and the idly swinging kitchen window wings like awkwardly flipping bird's wounded wings.

"O-Oh God!" Vowels and syllables clashed toughly to construct themselves in a medley of frustration, immense disquietude, feeble powerlessness and pure melancholy prominently rammed her uncontrollable, inward sob after pushing the kitchen door to swing freely and hunkering down past her one-night stand lover's bloody corpse, glancing at his still bleeding slits. "N-No!" Her mind submerged with absolutely unremitting melancholic thoughts, can't get over how their naked fleshes grinded and grazed one another in synchronizing tandem a couple of minutes ago and now his flesh was lethally stiff, throughout staining her beautifully porcelain, freshly young-looking complexion with a crystalline heavy rain of tears, tumbling down her cheeks and drenching the jazz pianist's gruesomely emotionless face. "It's impossible! Kenneth, wake up," Abruptly diminishing the decibels which were perpetually camouflaging in threadbare fad due to her uncontrollable, rueful sobs breaking her facial expression, caressing and tracing with the pads of her delicate thumbs the curves of his well-defined, youthful cheekbones.

The featherly soft autumn breeze assaulted the kitchen, whirling vaguely more potent than a handful of minutes ago and stilling its series of teasing slaps, blowing the prostitute's halo ringlet of sleek aureate tresses, framing her oval profile as her lips popped up haphazardly.

The eerie ballad of crickets outside encompassed the small household with their serenely eloquent tunes, tingling serenity and electrifying goosebumps pricking the young lady's alabaster epidermis, consequently ducking her head to press a peck on her one-night stand lover's forehead, besides finding her own flimsy heart torn off on thousands of glassy pieces, cooling her once warmed chest and the pit of her stomach with mild nausea.

Little did she know what has happened in the kitchen and most of all, who's the actual murderer that took the jazz pianist's life with his own bare hands in no time. Galore of questions swirled and twirled in the Wisconsian's train of thoughts at the moment, whilst inspecting the unsolved crime scene of Kenneth's demise. What it frustrated her to bones was how an innocent trip to the kitchen for collecting two cans of soft drinks would affect and most of all, turn somebody's life downward suddenly for worse.

She'd get to know the deceased Afro-American even spend timeless hours together in galore of discussions about their pasts, childhood, former relationships and so forth. Literally anything that greatly interested them or at least aroused their passionate enthusiasm, lingering on their tongue tips and verging to be vomited and brought as main topics. Even if their chemistry was evidently stronger than before, they'd have a spectacular future as pairing or at least as decent friends, counting on one another even in the toughest, the least predictable moments and whenever somebody struggles with anything.

Last but not least, the single mother of an only child was a keen fan of jazz and vintage music which were her very top preference for distraction or at least relieving her own nerves after having a hard, endlessly long day. The music was the key to her heart's vitality and chasteness.

It was the first time when an unidentified psychopath has ventured into the single mother's property and committing a barbaric homicide with tracks of evidence such as two carelessly tossed kitchen knives, dumped on the wooden planked floor. Fortunately, one of the dumped kitchen knives was pristinely unused even blood-curdlingly clean and smooth unlike the other one with its thickly dripping lake of reeking gore.

--- *** ---

--- End of Flashback ---

--- 22nd of February, 1966 ---

Within a few hours after bathing, changing Edward Ralph's diapers and changing him into conveniently cosy garments for bedtime even lulling him to drift off asleep after being laid down to kip in his own crib with his favorite stuffed light brown teddy bear as Christmas present, the both former members of the church took a shower together and subsequently donned up their alabasterly glossy figures into conveniently warm pajamas, due to the relentlessly late February chilly climate, permeating their two-story mansion.

"Where yar going, sweetie?" After yanking her carelessly tossed, mapped in creases sinfully alluring silken wine red nighttie as her marbled petite frame was purely naked wasn't donned up in anything else except her plain charcoal gray panties embroidering partly her lusciously peachy buttocks and her drenched slit, throughout pulling it on her head and her lean arms drew forward shortly after the elegantly thin spaghetti straps secured her gracefully dainty shoulders and its graceful silky hem flaring across her mid-thighs. A fistful of headstrongly cheerful gilt tresses idly framed her round, full profile and bouncing with each motion.

In the meanwhile, the former pious man of the cloth's larger frame was already pyjama-outfit-clad and dusting the king-sized bed's cosy quilt on the left side, stilling his embroidered smartly beatific smile, tugged at the corners of his mouth as the palms of his masculinely mammoth, veiny hands headstrongly smacked a handful of harmless slaps across the quilt's fabric, thus smartening its bedtime prospect.

"Just going downstairs, you know!" Shortly after dusting off insistingly with his pristinely strong hands the quilt, the former man of the cloth ambled up to his fiancée and lingering his smoky quartz gemstones in awe at her magnificently seductive looks which were far from extravagant. Just a simple every man's dream or on the contrary, every man's informal bedtime especially during the inhumanely sweltering summer nights. The summer nights, fueled with sweltering heat even in the nocturnal episode of the day when the windows were essential certain opened every night to ventilate the stringently lukewarm reek of lacking freshness for hours at least even kicked it out of their bedroom like an unwanted demon with a prominent conjuring and exorcism. Bashing out the inescapable unbearably, barbaric nocturnal summer heat with the featherly soft summer breeze prickling the expansion of the room with its pleasantly waltzing bearable coldness, pricking their epidermis in delightfully electrifying goosebumps. Cradling their skins with nocturnal lukewarmness and consoling their temporarily unfunctioning muscles, bones and cells, collecting opulent or at least sufficient quantity of rest throughout the evening hours. "And didn't you remember whose stomach was wildly churning under the shower just a couple of minutes ago, did you?" When the both former devotional members of the church maintained pretty intimate proximity with each other, meanwhile, Timothy ushered the palms of his colossal, marbled creamy hands to cup her well-chiseled, healthily chubby cheeks as Judy melted tenderly into his gentleness, abruptly suffusing broadly her sympathetic smile, tattooed on her porcelain, elderly young-looking complexion. Their hearts leaped in sheer ecstasy.

"I did, while we're teasing ourselves under the shower and when my stomach growled aggressively," Pause stung on cliffhanger her utterance, whilst she manipulated her spidery palish fingers to lift up and subsequently claw her fiancé's brittle knuckles, admiring the medley of masculinity, security, warmness, love, affection and softness genuinely draining every ounce of negativisim, suicidal and negative thoughts even stress, fatigue and primness. His presence was just vibrantly comforting and far cry from balefully imperiling for her welfare and very being fragility. In the interim, her honey brown gems didn't cease to be darted to his smoky quartz, beautifully glimmering naked innocence, warmness, comfort, desire and love in a plenteously monumental miscellany like heavenly sanctum of a Gurdian Angel, always by her side to moor her with his own altruistic consolation, selflessness, rich variety of pieces of advices and stark love and most of all, crying on his shoulder whenever there were just battles which deserved slightly more time to be solved either with diplomacy, resilient versality or on the contrary, just embracing the inevitable circumstance of not winning every clash which didn't mean she wasn't weak at all, nor the strongest at all. There were just times when almost any single soul couldn't persevere even exquisitely earn its own victory. It was inescapable like everything! "And yet, ya were like let's save some warm water and save this for later rather than watching ya as hungry as a horse."

Suddenly the former sleazy jazz nightclub singer gingerly, gamely fingered and played with her fiancé's knuckles, elaborating a hoarse, perfectly healthy chuckle, grinding her tongue and thereafter slipping out of her mouth, overflowing the cataract of her heavenly euphoria and outgoing nature which she shamelessly manifested in front of the closest people from her inner circle like Timothy, Frank, her son Edward Ralph even Madeleine. Due to her excessive high spirited humor in the almost wee hours of midnight, the exquisite mimick of Timothy's quote when they shared an erotical shower with lathering their own artistically butt-naked bodies with soap and teasing one another's sexes with sultry passion, clearly indicated in their unavoidably unforgiving, steamy touches, ghosting their sensitive epidermises.

"That was because you haven't eaten for hours and we can make love to each other anytime of the day," Tracing delicately, cautiously her well-sculpted, divine cheekbones with the tips of his fingers and maneuvering his thumbs to knead them nonetheless, his pools of deep cocoa brown were yet in awe at the mesmerizing sight of his lover's casual looks and always being herself even when she's accompanying him or anybody else. The sole reason Jude would be donned up in anything superbly gracious outfits or be comfortably naked, because it was nobody else than the sole person who can even behold her nudity without getting embarrassed, besides Jude, herself. Moreover, the Bostonian wasn't smartening her looks because of anybody else except Timothy, howsoever, it was essentially because of respecting her own needs and skin with indulging herself with comfy attires which there wasn't a particular age to be clothed in unless it's up to every individual like her. Her casually tied in a messy bun with a fistful of radiantly jaunty gilt curly strands were framing her round, full profile like doll, paired with nothing else than her sinfully seductive wine red slip, attractively contouring her swan curves and vaguely limping breasts due to her pregnancy, drastic weight changes and breastfeeding almost a toddler. "But the health and our basic needs are more important though our sex life isn't for underestimating at all."

"That's true!" Inhaling the superb fragrance of honey soaps that have lathered their bare fleshy muscles a handful of minutes ago under the reccuringly running jet waters of the shower head like heavy rain, pouring down and soaking every ounce of their very being. In the interval, the duo sealed one another's insatiably delighting lips in a brief, sultry kiss and thereafter molting their nuzzles in a delicate Eskimo kiss when their noses featherly soft danced in tandem waltz, wrenching shut their eyelids for a split second and relishing every moment of their overwhelmingly unspeakable romance and intimacy. Within a couple of seconds, they broke off the kiss and withdrew their faces with an inch to maintain an enough proximity, in spite of its closeness they mutually sealed with their mutual warmness, swapping in warming tandem and radiantly beatific beaming at each other. "Yar such a lovely handsomer!"

"You're actually the beauty there and I won't leave my beautiful rare bird to starve." Lingering the pad of his swan thumb to gingerly, featherly soft brush her lower naturally plum, plump lip slowly but surely, whereas maneuvering his other hand to lower behind her spine and drum affably, lightly her peachy, well-curved buttocks, scarcely resisting to swap a healthily guttural chuckles, dripping from their mouths. "Stay there as I'll zap the slices of pizza within a few minutes only."

Within a quarter a minute, the British compatriot already fled the bedroom which he shared with his girlfriend and the frequence of his humdrum footsteps ghosting the infamously squeaky wooden planked flooring and the stairway to the first floor choired, in spite of his attempts to keep himself quiet and not wake up due to his careless brashness his five-month-old son, who was deeply, marvelously asleep in his own bassinett in his room.

When his impending destination in the kitchen was remarkably marked with his arrival, stepping inside and finding Stephen beside his bowl with remaining scale of cat food, immersing the surface, sigh of relief snarled Timothy's nostrils, tugging tighter the weak, benevolent smile inking his handsome facial features, glistening in the brightly yellow illuminated kitchen and the light allowing the vista of the kitchen ambience sheen past his smoky quartz embers, blazing their own richness and coziness.

The incensed hungriness in Stephen's chunks of cat food sealing his petite jaw were incessantly, monotonously grinded until they were eventually, persistently gradually fragmented and quantified in much smaller scales, occupying his throat and oral caverns and efficiently swigged.

In the interim, the British aristocrat retrieved from the lower counter drawer two mere, unused yet plates by setting them on top of the counter and subsequently opening the giant box of family-sized pizza with exquisitely separated slices until he doesn't scoop two slices of them warily with the spatula per a person one slice at least, in case, if anybody between him and Judy want a bonus slice, either of them can always organize a small expedition to the kitchen for a handful of minutes anytime unless they're delightfully sated and pleased.

When the British aristocrat put the first plate in the plugged microwave to nuke for a half a minute the slice of pizza and adjusting the settings finely, thereafter the microwave commenced droning humdrum and indicating every elapsing second until the meal is eventually nuked at last. Shooting a glance at the charcoal black kitten who's already finished with his meal and ushering his wet, tiny tongue to sponge his jaw, while crouching down past his tiny body to pet his fluffily soft head down to his skinny tail and then gently gouge with his small, neatly trimmed fingernails behind his big ear, whereas the kitten purred adorably, smoothly, molting into his owner's mellow affection and warmness which he earned.

"Good boy! I'm sure you're well-fed." Whilst his naturally baby-pinkish, plump lips chanted a mellow, silver-tongued hum, amalgamating with the delightful kitten's pur, at the moment the two-month-old cat wrenched shut his huge, round eyelids and genuinely treasuring each golden moment when his owner could bestow him affection, attention and warmness. "I'm proud of you for being so strong even when we paid a visit to the vet clinic three days ago." The delay of the honeyed hum was lurching during the stubborn construction of the syllables and vowels, conjugated by the strawberry-tongue of the former devotional priest emboldening optimistically his pet for the great achievement, in fact, the majority of whether foster or domestic pets weren't very fond of paying a visit to the vet clinic and their antagonizing jitters were cooling their wee anatomies, despite their owners' optimistically encouraging words, sugarcoated in honey. "It's totally alright to be apprehensive even mewling desperately, but you were brilliant as always and teaching a lesson to the fear that was once living inside you like a demon." The sole sound that the foster cat could craft with his wee mouth was series of serenely elating meows, jingling angelic anthems into Timothy's ears and warming the pit of his stomach. "I agree! We should fight our demons and you outsmarted your demons, honey!"

Once the microwave zapped the first slice of pizza in the plate and halted functioning its headstrong frequence of drones, afterwards Timothy straightened his posture to take care of the food but shortly before thinking twice to touch the microwave with his filthy hands after dedicating a half a minute even a full minute of tenderness to the charcoal black kitten, consequently he turned the kitchen sink's faucet on and the dull splash of its running jet water soaked his mammoth, creamily vanilla hands up to the wrists until he lathered with marigold soap up to his wrists, sea of vanilla bubbles with the seductively potent fragrance of marigolds permeating in the kitchen and amalgamating with the lusciously insatiable aroma of freshly warmed pizza. Shortly after drenching the thick coat of lathered hands and baptizing them with fresh, lukewarm and daubing them in the kitchen towel and turning off the faucet, afterwards his attention was utterly shifted to the microwave and the second plate, awaiting the same quantity of time until it nukes at last.

Within a handful of minutes of microwaving the second plate with a single slice of pizza, throughout the former clergyman fled the kitchen and towered the stairway to the second floor and entered in his bedroom while scooping warily the plates with their freshly warmed dinner meals as Judy dashed up to him as her petite, vanilla bare feet ghosted in short versatile steps the featherly soft bedroom's carpeted flooring.

"Hey, hey, I'll take care of either of them! Don't think of dealing with two plates of pizza slices in a New York minute!" Shortly after her spidery delicate fingers elegantly entwined around the porcelain material and carrying it up to the left side of the king-sized bed and setting it on the nightstand, collectioning it with the partly illuminating their romantic sanctum nightlamp, the both former members of the church ventured to join the expansive space they shared altogether every night whenever they're home except for a couple of exceptional nights such as the prominent St. Valentine's night when they slept in the cab due to their adventorous journey from the restaurant and bar up to the nigh lake.

"You're so selfless and cosseting me, Sister!" At the moment, the younger man's naturally strawberry-coloured, plumpish lips curved into the jeer, retreating to the king-sized bed and one of his hands' long, pristinely slim fingers dancing around the porcelain plate, whilst grappling with his other hand his own slice of pizza and bringing it to his mouth until his still firm, ivory for his age teeth excroated his very first bite, munching it continuously until his tongue wisely, slyly forged another utterance. The extra weight encumbering his broad, muscly shoulder of his fiancée dropped her head on his shoulder blade warmed additionally the pit of his stomach, whereas his teeth strong-willedly grinded and synchronizing munch of the first bite until it was granulated on tiny, insatiable chunks which were chugged eventually.

"I would always anything do for ya, Monsignor!" Shortly after munching untiringly her first bite, the blonde glimpsed at her lover, flashing him a cocksurely mischievous grin, blooming upon her pizza-greased-smeared mouth, whilst her deliciously sticky pizza-greased smeared fingers were inching her chin, steadily grasping her dish.

Even though it's been almost a half a year since their presences no longer occupied the true definition of hellhole, where they had not only great deal of brilliantly unblemished memories as business partners and maintaining a platonic with romantic intentions friendship, but also their own tough times and most of all, railing through the vagons the intesifyingly dynamic nightmares where they the least were comprehending one another which wasn't parallel to their ultimate separation, anyway they were keen of mocking one another with their former ecclesiastical titles they reveredly wore in the previous chapter of their lives that they wish they wouldn't executed it as their own lifestyle for the rest of their days.

Lifestyle, plonking it almost a year ago and depriving them from utterly experiencing every remarkable segment of their life as adults in their midlife stage such as wedlock or at least partnership, adopting or at least bearing their own child and rising it on their own, imbibing certain quantity of liquor, being involved in sexual acts and so forth which the church violently enforced them strictly to not break their own vows that were once solemnly took with their compound with God's world and realm.

"I've always appreciated your support and care, Jude! You don't have any idea what's the feeling of being nurtured."

"I do it essentially for ya and our ray of sunshine, because I've never been treated like that when I was a child or even younger." Suddenly, the blonde gulped sluggishly the bittersweet, solid lump that contracted her throat and light-heavy, crystalline tears rimming her incessantly blinking in choir caramel brown cabochons, evading to maintain an adequate eye contact with the younger gentleman, rueful bittersweetness swaddling her revelation icily and ducking faintly her head, gawking jadedly, glassily at her own dish. It broke her heart how her gloomy past was nothing compared to the recent life she's living now at the moment. Miraculously, the only things the former pious sister of the church possessed and most of all, brightened vibrantly, beatifically her life and illuminating the path to light and ultimate felicity were the only family she had even if it's not that big, howsoever, it's promisingly altruistic and harmonic with a fiancé and an infant on the cusp of toddlerhood along with a sonly adopted animal from the relentlessly frosty winter night, besides the unconditional love, warmness and the property of her dreams were formulating her bare happiness. Despite the past was far cry from bringing it back and the Bostonian wasn't even able to alter it at least, nevertheless, the present was never too late to resume it and strongly looking forward for the imminent series of vibrant moments and experiences that awaited her sooner than later.

"You don't have to do it for me and you and Edward are just enough for me to be happy and nurture me with your shining happiness and smiles, permeating your gorgeous lips!" In the meanwhile, Jude brought the slice of pizza to her lusciously cherub, pink lips to graze a second, medium-sized bite and subsequently nibbling it in docile, humble hush. Last but not least, it's inexorably obvious for the British compatriot noting his rare bird's despondency in her formulated revelation.

"Timothy, ya haven't lived a fucking life where nobody grants you the love or at least the warm tenderness which every person deserves it!"

"But at least, I know what it feels like living in a family where your father is just a plain pain in the neck and your brother moving away just because of him."

"That's sucks anyway! I just don't want neither of ya having the same experience as mine!" A sharp exhale unloaded the Bostonian's frail ribcage after munching insistingly the second bite of her meal, flaring aggressively her nostrils at the recalling segment of their conversation they shared not a long time ago when they're discussing Timothy's father and the tough dilemma even after Timothy's older brother, John paid for the car damages and the unfair treatment he still harvests from his father's irreconcilably recalcitrant character. "It's like watching either ya or our lovely cherub angel going through the same shit and following my steps into the darkness," Pause seared her tongue and savoring its bitterness lacing her oral caverns gracing the wise caution what the least she would love to behold her small family's future and pursuing eagerly her steps to the darkness where the escape was minimally guaranteed for her as a lucky survivor. She'd detest beholding anybody from her inner circle having similar experience as hers or on the contrary jeopardizing themselves. She'd detest witnessing their sore pain and agony, imprinted on their facial expressions like freshly inked and healing tattoo with its unrefinedly extraordinary oil contouring every petty detail, besides scarring their flimsy hearts. It would be unforgiving seeing either Timothy or Edward Ralph as the closest people to her heart being prisoners of their low-spirited, dark fate with no escape except relying on their luck or on the contrary their rationality and stamina. "Where the escape is minimally guaranteed to save either of you. Needless to mention, what is being a prisoner of an undeserved destiny which isn't yar fault at all." Meanwhile, after moistening her jaw with her wet tongue and sponging the hideously tasty mantle of greased pizza across her lips, thus the former licentious jazz nightclub singer lewdly inserted her forefinger and middle finger, pronging a gap between her lips and squinting up her crystally rimming pools of deep hazels at his freshly young-looking, handsome face.

"I love how caring you're actually for me and our lovely cherub angel, but do you know what it was worse in my family's case if you ask me?" When it was Timothy's turn to bestow the sequel of their discussion, suddenly his façade's position punctured his seriousness and nonchalance, paired loyaly altogether in his rhetorical inquiry, lingering his chocolate brown orbs darted to her hazelish-brown, whereas the former licentious nightclub singer meekly, modestly managed to shake her head in solemn disagreement, eagerly anticipating her boyfriend to leak more personal stories about his family and each fragment, fragmenting their history. Even when Judy was all ears and attentively listening to the British compatriot's position, her berry-coloured tongue was strong-willedly, strenuously sponging the greasiness of pizza chunks, dumped on her digits and fingertips, plucking widened her huge, round honey brown gems.

"Anything related with yar brother and father again?"

"Not exactly, but it's related with my mom and younger sister Anna! Nobody didn't expect Anna to be as vain as my mother is," Although Timothy dumped his plate of unfinished slice of pizza on his side nightstand and yanking warily from the upper drawer the tissue and retrieving cleanly pristine napkin to daub the tackily lubricated with smearness pizza leftovers his fingers, chin and palms, shifting his attention for a split second to the tissue until the drawer was slammed and recklessly dumping the already used tissue, pursuing for his girlfriend's enticingly inquisitive stare. "I mean they're both related and Anna has always been my mother's favorite child in our family along with me and John."

"But," Shaking her head, whilst Timothy headstrongly curled his pristinely strong, delicate fingers around his temple and consequently manipulating his fingertips to rub his temple's tissues to prevent the migraine and the nausea which flushed his neck and the pit of his stomach with toxic frigidity at the unspeakable memory of his adolescence when his mother was cheating on his father with Marie's co-worker. "I thought anybody from yar family is much better than yar lousy father."

"Jude, nobody is saint from my family," An eerie flat line blurred any patterns of mirth and emotions, flattening his nude pink lips while gingerly, softly playing and fingering his fiancée's luxurious lion mane of flossily healthy gilded tresses, admiring the crispy softness of her mane as the blonde genuinely molted in, whimpering series of painfully genial purs, buzzing her mouth. "I wish there was at least one normal person like my brother John, but even Anna and Marie have their own flaws like every one of us. Marie, my mother cheated on my father when I was a high schooler just to piss him off for begging John to pay for the car damages. It was with a co-worker of hers and it really rose up the bile in his throat." In the interval, the older lady's drying tears ebbed off her porcelain, still youthful complexion in no time whilst honing up her ears to be all ears about the former priest's past, swallowing hard. "It happened the same thing with my sister Anna. She cheated on her boyfriend when she was only twenty years old, in order to annoy her boyfriend for his obsessive nature which he acquired in the beginning of their relationship."

"I'm completely sure yar mother and Anna did a good job teaching a lesson to those men for being such pricks such as forcing yar brother to pay for the car damages and Anna's boyfriend for his criminal zealousy."

"I think you're probably right, but Anna was undeniably loyal so that to arouse any hints of envy in him as a partner."

"Is that how yar mother and sister are related?"

"Fairly certain!" Notwithstanding the calling circumstances of the adultery, what it bone-chillingly flabbergasted the pairing was that how long Marie and James's marriage is continuing to be concurring with the absolute reality up to nowadays, despite the tribulations they've been through for example. "Anna would never cheat on her boyfriend Harold who's now her husband. He would do anything for her now, but back then Harold was just a pure toxin and always doubting my younger sister and calling her a slut, a whore and whatever you would think of a vulgar insult." Meanwhile, nausea swamped the pit of their stomachs with bubbling toxic liquid which almost immersed the consumed chunks of food. Sheer grimace grained their facial attributes and blanching their natural facial tones with unnatural ghost palish nuance. It broke the duo's flimsy hearts even highly affecting the violent thuds in their chests especially when the vulgar language was forged by the British aristocrat's tongue, stilling his fingers twirling and curling the old Hollywood gilded curls around his digits gamely, delicately. "After cheating on him, they're separated for a while and they got back together like three years later when Anna finished psychology in Glasgow's university."

"I think she moved in Glasgow for a few years, because of that dumbass and he doesn't have the right to call her anything that doesn't even labeling her." Even when the former pious woman of the cloth opted to overcome with consperative theory behind the former clergyman's younger sibling temporal emigration far away from her family and abusive boyfriend, meantime, the the younger gentleman managed a solemn nod in strong agreement, affirming his lover's words. Stilling the austere frown, jointing the corners of her mouth, whilst Timothy reopened the top drawer of his nightstand to hand Jude a tissue, in order to get rid off the muddy coat of pizza greasiness, yet lubricating with its own stickiness her fingers and nude pink, plumpish lips. "It reminds me of the same thing with Casey though I have never cheated on him, but he's the one who's utterly responsible for the damn adultery." Once she bobbed her head gratefully for the offered tissue, thus the Bostonian manipulated the clean surface to debaub initially her unbearably clammy fingertips and pads of her dainty, creamy fingers, whilst the younger man leant his head to nuzzle his fiancee's long mop of old Hollywood golden curls, framing her round, full profile after a couple of minutes after untying her messy, casual bun and dumping her sling for supporting the weight of her weightless messy bun. "I'm talking about the bad words which he labeled me. And your sister did a good thing for moving in Glasgow and I wouldn't suggest her to get back into such an abusive relationship with a man, who always doubts in her and calls her anything just to hurt her feelings."

"I told the exact thing to Anna, but her blind love and naivety didn't save her at all even three years later after graduating from the Glasgow's university and coming back in London, reuniting with Harold."

"Did that prick treat her better?" What it beyond hurt the couple was how they're discussing a logically rational, profound discussion where Jude and Anna's relation was potently connecting them, although the different types of ordeals they've been through abusive relationship. It hurt the Bostonian how her fiance's younger sibling was still forgiving and gracing her contemporary husband that used to be the extremely jealous boyfriend an unavoidable second chance. Was it possible even to grace somebody with a second chance even when they the least deserved after your mind was pelted crudely with series of harassment that were untruly labeling an individual and they were far cry from the absolute reality of their façade, besides just attempting to test anybody's patience with cheating on them just to bug them off even more due to their erupting volcano of toxic envy? This controversial question was begging for more time to be resolved by the duo and their thoughts gradually gearing and building the alternatives that might be sufficiently rational as responses.

"Yes for my own surprise even a few years after leaving him just to finish her education and to have a fresh start." Despite the depths of the topic they peaked gravely, anyway the former sister of the church still wondered quizzically how Timothy has never addressed her with mortificating nicknames for women that were usually stapled emphatically, mercilessly without thinking twice about her feelings and humor at all. Moreover, even when Jude wasn't exactly in a romantic relationship with Timothy shortly after getting her out of Briarcliff's morbid madness and granting her a luxurious home to share with each other a roof and sanctum of comfort and coziness for the rest of their days along with their love child, besides breaking the love of her life's heart by gifting blindly her trust to nobody else than an untrustworthy ill-famed serial killer of Vermont though her lacking knowledge about his malicious crimes unless she witnessed the true horrors inside his property right on her first date with Cayden. "Three years taught them patience and most of all, Anna deserved break and her break finished once she got back in London and bumped into Harold shortly after reuniting with me and my brothers and my mother."

"That's pretty messy dilemma, I've to admit! But how is possible Anna to be such a forgiving soul after her nowadays husband had treated her unfairly as if she's doing something dubiously behind his back?"

"Probably that's because I and Anna share so much in common when it comes up to forgiveness and the people we sincerely love." Clearing with a gruffy cough his throat, thereafter his button nose lingered its featherly soft, dainty nuzzle against her long mop of sinfully satin, unruly gilt curls, fingers and twirling continuously a fistful of strands on his digits playfully, gentlemanly. "In fact, we're the youngest heirs in our family and our mom has taught us the patience and forgiveness is the key to win the eternal love even if this person we frankly love had hurt us the most." What it abstractly mesmerized the middle-aged lady was the former devotional man of the cloth's reply and the sheer, versatile rationality accenting his utterance, resuscitating the freshness of his vortex of thoughts. "And if it's worth the patience and forgiveness for the person that has hurt you and not getting tired of him, therefore it's just a challenge for you how wisely you will choose either to continue this fight or otherwise give up."

"Darling, ya don't have any idea how much I hurted you earlier this month especially when ya and Maddie were,"

"Do not make me repeat myself, because I knew what you will exactly say that it's your fault when I and Maddie were the ones that knew the only one and clear," When the blonde finished with bedaubing her hands and chin, thereafter the tissue and plate of her pizza leftover were motionlessly swaddled on her nightstand, readjusting her position to pin with lay her weightless body onto Timothy's, her earlobe barely brushing his toned, muscular chest with its furiously intensifying soundtrack of heart pulsations, hammering her head and ear, draping lazily her alabaster, lean arms around his upper back for tender snuggle. "And naked truth! We knew how dubious Cayden was, but it's not your fault at all. It's just history, itself, that was one-off when you had closer contact with him and he will earn what he exactly deserves sooner than later."

"I'm still questioning yar forgiving nature and ya weren't like yar sister's boyfriend to call me a whor-"

"Shh, shh, shh," Whilst the middle-aged woman's mouth was muffled, immune to bleat the blatant whimpers and murmurs under her breath as the British compatriot clamped softly her feminine jaw with a colossal, protective hand, his solely free arm was snaked around her waist and tightening its grip, pressing a dainty, mellow peck on top of her head and gingerly resting his chin, humming the honeyed, reassuring shushs. "It's untrue whatever you would call yourself, because you aren't a whore. You're the most beautiful and spectacular woman I've ever laid eyes on in my whole life." In the meantime, the former sleazy jazz nightclub singer averted her stare for a split second from the younger man, barely trembling her muscles until their monumentally outstanding silhouettes were uncommonly reflexed on the wall, mirroring their double selves in shadow forms though her invisible giant angelic wings and halo were accompanying the former nun's somber silhouette unlike hers where the contrast was brilliantly distinguished themselves from each other. Devilish horns adorned his scalp along with the honed tail, unknowledgably matching with his personality trait that might be associated with his inescapably chasing demons that were coming from the past and still chasing hungrily his victim unless the nemesis is completed. Is there a possibility the former pious clergyman's possession to be true and Mary Eunice's once vile essence that corrupted every cell and muscle of hers has actually contaminated one more vulnerable soul to spiritual possession? Even if it wasn't a possession, at least what kind of a mystery is an infernal silhouette being transmuted into a humanoid form? Which one of the seven deadliest sins was representing the British aristocrat? Ocean of unanswered questions swirled and twirled into the middle-aged woman's train of thoughts recurringly.

--- *** ---

--- Two Days Later or So ---

--- 24th of February, 1966 ---

It took two days and two nights for the duo to finish their family-sized pizza and earlier today's announcement from the former nun about the organized wedding which is within a handful of weeks solely was delivered to her inner circle.

Just after finishing her full-work time shift in the flower store in the company of her new employees Andrea and Cassandra, consequently Andrea retired back at Cassandra's property to spend more time with her grandchildren, whereas her daughter spends more time with her new friend with whom they're getting pretty along,

In the past two days, the horde of women spent their leisure time during their ongoing shift in the flowerstore in logically, rational even personal conversations, getting to know one another and Judy and Andrea quickly became doted on one another for Judy's surprise, due to the fact the single mother of an only child shares some things abysmally in common with the Bostonian.

As soon as the Wisconsian along with her daughter, the Michiganian and Frank's news about the approaching wedlock were gracefully delivered to them, therefore they couldn't get enough of their childlike, murderous euphoria outsmarting them and contaminating them like a lethal plague.

Even after Madeleine and Cassandra were already released to have the ultimate freedom to organize their own evening and refilling their hectic daily schedule, the both juvenile ladies ventured in one of the nigh stores, searching for a presentably elegant outfits which they're going to be donned up on their friends' wedlock that was due in late March, besides abstractly altering their evening by not going directly at home and spending modicum of their times in building their platonic friendship with personal conversations and friendly interactions even hanging out more often like going in the near clothes stores like every woman with huge mania for shopping, cafeterias, restaurants, hosting each other in their own homes and so forth.

"There ain't no good in our goodbye-in'! True love takes a lot of tryin'! Oh, I'm cryin'! Let's hang on to what we got! Don't let go girl, we got a lot! Got a lot of love between us!" Let's Hang On by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons was recently playing on the radio inside the garments' store as the vocalist's eloquent voice was chanting the song lyrics fluently, expressively to pitch the background and entertain every visitor for doubling the atmosphere while rummaging restlessly the clothes' racks throughout their shopping journey.

"What kind of outfits are you exactly looking for, Cass?" At the moment, the Michigan's lilt of the Michiganian punctured her velvety posed question, squinting up her hazelish-brown jewels at her friend, furrowing her eyebrows quizzically as her posed question begged for an immediate response and the juvenile duo was inside a small store for garments with rich choice of appealingly elegant garments from tops to pair of trousers and shoes. Moreover, during the early evening's part of the day, there weren't abundance of clients for their own luck to suffocate them with chatters and their own shenanigans, verging to bring them a piercing headache for the rest of the night.

"Something simply and fashionable." The bashful Vermont lilt punctured the light brunette's utterance, managing to slam her front ivory teeth between the raw spot of her lower plump lip, nipping recurringly, dully whilst shooting a glance at the Michiganian with a vague sheepish smile, slowly but surely thrieving upon her naturally plum, plump lips.

"Didn't you mean simply fashionable, Cass?" After nudging mischievously, kindheartedly her elbow, thereafter the both women couldn't help but elaborate a healthily guttural snicker, ditching their chests and pitching their own compact world, amalgamating with the further background noises of the passing strangers' chatters outside the store and the uneven footsteps of the seller, pensively glimpsing at her customers from time to time, in case, if they struggle with finding something suitable for their taste, consequently always reckoning her help as bonus.

"Fair enough! Let's get started, Maddie!" As the both women aimed to the both clothes rack beside them, throughout they were rummaging and examining in a studious scrutiny every garment such as pair of trousers, jeans and slacks even tops, regardless their sleeves' length and neckline variety's types even their fabrics, embroidering the attire. During their very first attempts to rummage the clothes' racks and their mild like for a couple of clothes that attracted their attention eyecatchingly, the inevitable disappointment roughly contoured their facial features though the ghosting motto to chin up and resume their research for the planned wedlock outfit or at least fragments of the formal occasion's suit lastly.

"Holy damn! I don't even know what we're even look-" All of a sudden, the seller participated in their company without even poking either of them, in order to double their unpredictable startledness from the store's owner and her metaphorically comforting presence ghosting their petite-frames surreptitiously.

"Excuse me, young ladies! Are you looking for something specific?" The haphazardity in the amiable Vermont lilt of the seller flinched the duo as they emphatically turned to face the clothes' store owner abruptly, offering her a benevolently vibrant smile, curling upon their cherub, naturally roseate lips. The owner of the garments shop was a young lady in the beginning of her thirties. She stood exactly 5'5 and her body structure was slightly plump. First and foremost, her obsidian black bob haircut with its exquisitely straight, glossy strands framed her heart-shaped, parchment face. Her skin tone was vaguely tanned, intriguingly matching with her obsidian black bob haircut, expressivelessly thin eyebrows and pools of abysmal apple green which were enormous, round and vibrantly contrasting in expressions towards her eyebrows. Last but not least, the older woman was smartly dressed in chiffon bright red with white polka dot shirt, paired with charcoal black slacks embroidering her leanly fit legs and knee length midnight black boots with a dark denim vest, guarding her chest. Her name was actually Ruth Avery McClaine.

"Hang on, hang on, hang on! To what we got [doo-doo doo-doo doo-doo]! You say you're gonna go and call it quits! Gonna chuck it all and break our love to bits! (Breakin' up) I wish you never said it! (Breakin' up) No, no, we'll both regret it!"

"Well, we're looking for either elegant element to match with anything part of a formal event or rather a formal outfit," The suddenness of Ruth Avery's sympathetically feather soft smile embroidering her bright red-painted lips was rather soothingly assuring for the younger ladies as Cassandra jointed at her lungs a refreshing sigh of relief, nibbling her upper lip subtly.

"I see. I can help you, of course!" In the meanwhile, Ruth Avery ushered with a hand her recent customers to escort her to the other clothes' rack with the formal events' elegantly presentable outfits and suits which the shop offered, stilling optimistically her sympathetic smile, highlighting her light-heavy wrinkles due to the relentless aging process.

--- *** ---

--- A Month Later or So ---

--- 26th of March, 1966 ---

Within a month after strongly looking forward for the wedding day and its arduous plans, envolving the both former members of the clergy's legitimate wedlock finally unlocking them ethereally timeless opportunities and earning less heinously abhorred looks by strangers for having an extramartial love child due to the balefully tenacious society standarts when seeing families with unmarried parents having their love childs.

The weather was improving and sending away the menacing winter's frosty segments as if they're solely part of the history and embracing with open arms the very first early morning's silver-tongued, sweet birdsongs pitching the background and the freshly, apocalyptically flourishing nature, whilst waking up boldly from its wintering throughout the elapsing months.

When the wee hours of the morning approached quicker than summer breeze, the couple got up earlier by taking showers and having a breakfast with their son and kitten and thereafter washing the already used, smeared in food chunks and filth silverware eating tools and dishes.

Even though Anna hasn't announced her brother and her sister-in-law when she's going to visit Vermont, howsoever, the psychologist rather preferred to surprise them especially after acknowledging their wedding day to pay for motel.

After breakfast, Madeleine in the company of her brother Roman, Cassandra, Andrea, David with his children Kathy and Jack arrived in seven and a half o'clock in the morning, whilst Andrea, Anna, Frank and Mother Claudia had an arranged appointment to encounter the guests in the church which was the nearest within an hour.

Even when Cassandra, Edward Ralph and Madeleine were accompanying the Bostonian in the bedroom which she shared with the former ambitious Monsignor, nevertheless, Roman and David were escorting him unlike Jack, Kathy and Andrea who were awaiting for the sonly-married couple and other wedlock guests' arrival downstairs as they were spending time with Stephen by petting his fluffy, soft head and babytalking to him.

"Hasn't somebody told you you have a glamorously silken hair," Lowly droning a melodical dron, curving upon her gracefully peach-pink painted lips, Madeleine's spidery marbled fingers were draped and tightening the grip around the former nun's brush, gently and slowly but surely brushing her disheveled long mop of stubborn golden curls, whilst seating beside the dressing table and Madeleine was in front of her, admiring the crispy softness of the middle-aged lady's hair which she'd dream for years to have in her forties. At the moment, Cassandra was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, scooping securely, dotingly Edward Ralph who was donned up in a formally gentleman, suave suit and frequently rocking him up in her leanly marbled arms, providing him maternal comfort and warmness, nuzzling his prominent button nose as she bended her head. "Judy?" Velvety Michigan lilt punctured Madeleine's address to the former pious nun, a fistful of disheveled, lavishly aureate tresses grazing her delicate palm, resting her chin on her shoulder blade.

"Nah, that's not true!" At the moment, the former licentious nightclub singer's Ravish Me Red painted lips crafted the mimicked jeer, raising an arch of her thin, dark eyebrow whilst the Michiganian was brushing the strands just before putting her gracious lily-white fishnet veil to adorn her profile.

"What a turdsandwiched liar with another lie on top of lie!" The juvenile blonde's strawberry-coloured, wet tongue forged the jeer, managing a faint, featherly soft mischievous slap to thud her delicately feminine, dainty shoulder blade. "I'm sure anybody who sees your hair or at least thinks about it always yearns to have such mane of glossiness and gold pouring on their heads!" After brushing delicately the retrieved fistful of tresses, afterwards the Michiganian leant down to press an amiable peck on the middle-aged lady's creamy, well-sculptured cheek. "Don't you ever dare thinking that your wight of fugliness and saying it out loud, coming from your lips!" Paradoxal paroxysm and shivers cooled the middle-aged lady's pit of her stomach and spine with mild embarrassment and sweltering heat coating her twin cheeks after pinkness tickling her facial skin and incarnadining it instantly when the juvenile flowerstore saleswoman peach-pink painted lips sponged Judy's earlobe, delivering the whisper in velvety timbre.

"Okay, okay, ya got me, Maddie!" Spreading in the thin air her alabaster long-sleeve-clad arms bleakly, wryly indicated her irony, whilst a gutturally healthy, bold chuckle clicked the roof of the Michiganian's mouth as Judy and Cassandra joined even though Cassandra's utter attention was shifted to the baby boy, cradling and swaying gingerly his frail skeleton. "I'm sure the girls in your school were sincerely jealous of yar gorgeous hair."

"What's the point of being jealous of somebody's hair that is constantly tied in buns and ponytails, honey?"

"At least, you have worn it down a couple of times!"

"Needless to mention it, but I ain't a mermaid like you, honey!" Suddenly, when the young woman finished with brushing her mentor's lion mane of sleek old Hollywood strands after swapping a minute pause to take a decent care of her photogenic mane, subsequently Madeleine tossed the brush back on the dressing table and maneuvered to yank her mentor's fishnet fingerless gloved hand to pepper her brittle knuckles with feather, tender kisses, mapping the extraordinary cotton fabric without smearing her peach pink lipstick. "Look at you, gorgeous!"

"Why thank you for the efforts ya have put to make me look like princess!" The rhetorical utterance jingled angelic hymns into the both younger ladies and infant's ears as the former pious woman of the cloth lifted up her rear from the dressing table's chair and turned to face the younger mother, whose twains of enamoured minerals were fixated on the bride. "I owe ya my life for everything good ya have done for me, Maddie!" Shortly before ambling up to the younger mother, the both blondes scooped each other in a tight, kindhearted hug and absorbing mutual warmness, whilst flashing each other amiably smiles, brilliantly glistening upon their stunning facial attributes.

"Aww, you're looking mesmerizing, darling!" The Vermontian wrenched widened in enticing shock her pools of dark, mist obsidian in awe, landing on the bride whilst the young boy's huge, round honey brown minerals were fantastically in awe, jerking in a wide O his content, childish grin, bleating series of blatant cooes, babbles and curt words. Their hearts raced due to the majestically authentic appearance of the former holy woman's transformation into a mesmerizing bride as her wedding gown was lily white with satin fishnet long sleeves, guarding her leanly marbled arms with an elegantly enveloped heart-shaped belt, securing her middle and embellishing impressively the gown, paired with its magnificently ankle length satin hem flaring across her classy oyster-white stilettos, shoing her petite feet along with oyster-white stockings and garters, mounting her hips. Additionally, pearl ribboned stud earrings pronged her creamy, milky earlobes with the amorous proposal ring. Last but not least, the alluring fragrance of lilacs perfume permeated in the bedroom after besprinkling the middle-aged blonde's wrists, neck and chest. She looked indisputably gorgeous into the both younger women's eyes even her son."Don't you agree, sweetie?" Pressing a soft, affectionate peck on the top of the infant's head and writhing incessantly his pudgy arms, in order to sense the genuine notion of a maternal's warmness, unconditional love and sheer innocence, residing in a single person's embrace.

"Mama!"

"Thank you girls and sweetie for everything!"

"Needless to thank us, Judy! I'm completely sure you would bring a heart attack to Timothy." In the interim, the punchline of the joke slipped from the Michiganian's mouth, envenoming the syllables and vowels after lurching on her tongue serpentinely.

"I've already almost brought him a heart attack a few times, Maddie!" As soon as the juvenile mother handed the love child of the former holy woman, consequently the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer gladly accepted the offer and continuously rocked and swayed gingerly, steadily her baby son, his idle big, round hazelish-brown gemstones eyed the trio, lingering his childishly content grin for realizing what kind of day was today and most of all, how much fun the wedding ceremony's guests are going to have even that his parents are going to be eventually tie the knot and open a fresh new chapter in their lives after knowing one another for a long time and due to their abstinence and toxicity dominating their relationship, they didn't give up at all as they resumed delightfully, headstrongly the clash with working hard on their toxic relationship and embracing with open arms their imperfections.

"I don't want even to imagine that, Maddie and Judy!"

"Oops! It's already eight o'clock!" After peering behind the Bostonian to scan the recent time, haphazardly her protégé mewled the caution urgently. "We better go to the freak show church and inform the others to get their own bums in the cars."

"You're right! Let's go!"

Author's Note: I'm sincerely sorry for this sloppy chapter even delaying with the updates. Moreover, I'm strongly promising the next chapter will be more promisingly interesting and hilarious.

How do you think the wedding is going to pass between the guests and the recently married couple? Do you think Madeleine and Cassandra are good friends and their friendship is worth, in spite of their mild contrasts they share together? Are you more team Cassandra or Madeleine?

I hope you liked and enjoyed this chapter! If you genuinely enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to leave a feedback! It's always appreciated! :))