Author's Note: That's the sequel of the one-shot Doppelgänger with Elsa and Jude as eventually there's going to be a surprise for the end of the third part of the Doppelgänger. Anyway I hope you like and enjoy it! :))

--- *** ---

--- A Quarter an Hour Later ---

A quarter an hour after Jude and Mary Eunice's brief debate in the austere, unwelcoming office, thereafter Jude and Elsa paced slowly and steadily up to the common room in the profound hallway of the mental institution. As they were getting to know one another, the both ladies realized that they shared so much in common, due to the fact, they both used to be singers, fishing for abundance of reasons. In Jude's case as a veteran nightclub singer in the old, retro bars of the small city of Massachusetts, fishing for love, warmness and muting the sore, doubtlessly agonizing pain of her past and the heartbreaks, compensating it with boozing countlessly insane quantity of the sinful, sweet alcohol, the temporaily numbing one-night stands with men, craving to get rid off in no time from her attires and savor every inch of her youthful, nubile flesh, sniffling as savage beasts the opulently alluring fragrance of her lion mane of glossy old Hollywood gilt curls, the starkness of her gracious, petite frame's neck and cleavage. Using her youthful, slender body for their own personal, hedonistic needs, arousing their crotches. Whereas in Elsa's case, the career of a singer didn't grant her the fame she hankered for at all. Moreover, raising both with single parents and possessing heinous reputations. They're both hopelessly romantic.

Even when it has been less than an hour since the doppelgangers met for very first time, Jude could feel a genuinely deep spiritual connection with the German emigrant. Little did she know how innoxious and could somehow grant somehow modicum of her precious trust, in spite of her trust issues and the wary nature that engulfed once strangers commenced to encircle her. They became quickly fond of one another and they shared one more thing in common which was unarguably true. The doctor of science. Of course, he's the essential antagonist in their story, whom they must eliminate at any cost.

"How does it come Dr. Arden to be Hans Grupper, Elsa?" The hoarseness in her inquiry was far from oblivious. Hostile frown parted the woman of the cloth's naturally roseate, cherub lips in a pair of the grotesque. Her honey brown orbs stung widened in disbelief what the other middle-aged lady was talking about the suspicious senior doctor, that was performing abundance of barbaric experiments on the wretched souls. Her flimsy heart sunk abysmally in the pit of her stomach. The monotonous click of their chunks and stilettos fathomed frequently the inexorable clicks against the cemented flooring. Disturbing the silence and amalgamating with the shrilling symphony of the inmates' bewails.

"I'm deadly serious, Jude!" The gruffiness in the cleared throat, promptly was reluctant to distract with something further the Bostonian. "You can hardly believe what this man has done but you don't know what atrocities he's done before escaping like a coward from Germany. From where I exactly come from." In the meanwhile, the Bostonian chewed on her lower lip with her front ivory, still firm teeth. Scraping the delicate, vulnerable skin of her lip. "First and foremost, his true name isn't Arthur Arden how he claims to be, mein Liebchin!" The emphasis in the nickname that addressed to Jude, a mild powder of blush touched her chubby, well-defined cheeks. It's the first time an ally especially a female one giving her an adorable nickname. Tingling angelic anthems into her petite, sensitive ears.

"I understood this part but what are exactly the atrocities he did to you," The former licentious jazz nightclub singer was all ears for the truth instead for the retrospection. "Before altering himself like his name, address and ya know?"

"You can even see it for yourself, my darling!" They stopped in a halt in the middle of the hall as the monotonous click of their chunks and stilettos' choir subdued in the background. At the moment, the former actress bended by lifting her glamorous oyster-white trouser's leg, consequently poking with a few fingers on the prosthesis. The pious member of the church's caramel brown pools, dappled with shadowed pigments of the once warmest caramel blanched in no time, whimpering, picturing the severe pain of losing your legs and then being replaced with prosthesis to be able to walk yet.

"W-Who did the prosthesis?" Stutter floated from the Bostonian, whistling a deep breath whilst her jaw chattered, muffling it with her both elvish, milky as vanilla hands.

"It was an old friend of mine, Massimo. He confronted the Nazi asshole for amputating my legs while filming a snuff film. The other men in the film were confronted by Massimo too." Solid lump gulped in Elsa's throat abstained her from sobbing quietly at the thought of her once love interest that aided her so much during the toughest times by tossing the trouser's leg back, flaring across her ankle as bonfire, igniting the rings with viscuous fire. "He's a really good friend of mine. He saved my life when I suffered the most and we had a dream to escape in America back in the 30s but before fleeing for America, he stayed so that to confront every foe but Grupper caught him and tortured him until one of the SS generals rescued him."

"That sounds so heartbreaking to hear that there was somebody who deeply cared and loved ya, Elsa! And I'm so cheesed off how this war criminal has tortured both of ya and ya had to flee all alone here instead with him."

"For sure he deeply cared about me and loved me!"

"So what happened to him?" A sharp exhale inhaled the former sleazy jazz nightclub singer, continuing their walking journey up to the common room. The childlike inquisitiveness about Elsa's grim past aroused Jude's enthusiasm even resuscitated her compassionate, light side.

"The last time when we saw one another was back in 1960. He told me he's diagnosed with lung cancer and it remained him so little time. Even more, Massimo admitted he isn't a smoker." Frown twisted upon her peach pink lips, almost finding herself to snivel in the madhouse's corridor hysterically. "It was the same year when I died but some time later around Halloween."

"I'm so sorry to hear all this, Elsa! Ya truly deserve so much better, ya know." All of a sudden, they entered in the common room after pushing the double door. Horde of babbling to themselves, banging bluntly restless in the walls inmates encompassed them as the both women's eyes landed on each corner of the common room. The once French song that played on the vinyl recorder was replaced with the frequent babbling and hysterical wails of the desperate souls. Dim light filtered the expansive room, illuminating every corner and angle with natural sunlight that seldom dispersed through the old, dusted windows. "It's not yar fault for anything. And all I can do is to pray for yar and Massimo's souls."

"Do you see somewhere Pepper, Jude?" The both women surveyed in a scrutiny, inspecting with a simple glance each patient's physical looks and attires until their hazelish-brown eyes squinted at the much shorter due to its vicious illness patient. "I see her. I found my baby." Her stilettos violently stomped, clicking against the cemented flooring, strolling up to the freak, while Judy accompanied the ghost without violating her personal space with scarcely sharing any appropriate proximity. "Pepper!" The German emigrant cried out loud the freak's name with eloquence and agitation, factly, they haven't seen one another for a long time. She spread her arms to scoop her in a tight, warm hug.

"Boss, you're back!" Pepper curled her arms around her former boss's upper back, burying her parchment complexion in the crook of her arm, melting in the hug she longed to melt in especially in the former freak show owner's, whose arms were the most secure and doting, in her humble opinion. "I missed you so much! Where have you been so long?" Then Elsa heaved Pepper's weightless body as if she held and cradled a baby, muffling a warm breath that pinched her cheeks.

"In heaven, my darling!" The huskiness in her chuckle, pausing her sarcastic exclaimation bloomed a beamingly content smile upon the patient's face. "I really missed you so much, Pepper!" Whilst the inmate and Elsa were conversating one another, the nun eyed them as if she was on cloud nine for reuniting them somehow, folding her arms across her torso. Some of the lunatics' shadowed by desperation and melancholy eyes, studied the foreign visitor in the common room after hearing her German accent. Unlike the other spectrals, Elsa couldn't disappear and then reappear like them. She was stuck for eternity on the crudely cold world until she found ultimately peace with herself by accomplishing her three crucial quests. Finding her true doppelganger or rather, twin. Subseqeuntly reuniting with Pepper and then Arthur Arden's nemesis, paying bloodily excessive for his own deeds and crimes in his both two homelands.

The afterlife was an infallible punishment and challenge for the wretched souls to fulfill utterly their quests whether numerous or a handful of ones so that to no longer prowling restlessly and seeking vengeance of their rivals, who're responsible for their nemesis. Galore of candidates to step beside the heaven or hell's grandiose gates with their accomplished tasks on their once homeland where they belonged as mortals was a rare case.

--- *** ---

--- An Hour Later or So ---

After Jude reunited Elsa with Pepper as they both spent their time in the common room, the woman of the cloth went back in her office since her absence meant trouble and in case, if whether an anxious visitor whose relative or friend's peculiar demeanor disturbs them or anybody from the staff.

A couple of door taps interrupted her of her thoughts and perusing the recent patient's file, biting her lower roseate, plump lip at the thought of her boss, the Monsignor. Or it might be the juvenile sister of the church, Mary Eunice or her loyal, amidst the fewest genuine friends of her, the security guard Frank.

At the moment, her petite, frail hand snatched the classy pair of eyeglasses from her porcelain, still elderly young-looking complexion in a swift motion by leaving them aloof on the hardwood bureau, getting from her seat, awaring its visitor about being all ears:
"Come in!"

"Sister Jude," In the meanwhile, the British compatriot entered in her austere office by shutting the door behind him. "We shall talk!" The seriousness in his British, velvety accent honed her hearing instantly, while her front ivory, yet firm teeth scraped reticently her upper lip at his emphasis to have a grave, professional conversation. "Pepper is ecstatic, while talking to a ghost, whose accent isn't English, nor American when I paid a visit to the common room."

"I assure ya, Monsignor, the ghost is Elsa Mars. She used to own a freak show in Florida and Pepper used to be with her a long time ago!" Meantime, the Bostonian stood for her arcane doppelganger, clearing her throat gruffily, seconds before starting her rational, defensive monologue. "And Elsa's birth homeland used to be Germany and,"

"Is she used to be a Nazi?" Suddenly pair of big, widened in speechlessness round honey brown pools were transfixed on the pair of chocolate brown, incredulity linking them.

"No, no, of course not, Timothy!" The older lady opted to assure alleviatingly her boss that Elsa was nothing like the Nazi war criminals. "This woman had suffered a lot in her birthland. Her legs were amptutated by nobody else than Dr. Arden, whose real name is actually Hans Grupper. He's also responsible for torturing Elsa's deceased friend, Massimo, who had his own revenge on the men that are responsible for her torture while filming the snuff movie. Massimo didn't actually die by Arden's hands." In the interim, the younger man rolled dramatically his cocoa brown irises, while listening attentively his rara avis. "And if ya haven't noticed the mysterious disappearance of patients, it's actually Dr. Arden's fault. And moreover, this man can't be trusted any longer, in fact, he's a former Nazi war criminal and he's a sadist."

"How it's all this possible?"

"You should keep yar wits about the patients how some of them are in the common room today or in their wards or in the solitary confidement, but tomorrow," The quirk of Timothy's thick, dark eyebrow taunted her hiss while emphasizing every word of her utterance, baring her teeth. "But tomorrow they aren't seen anywhere anymore. I'm completely sure Dr. Arden knows better what's going on with them. And in the night of the movie even when Lana, Grace and Kit disappeared then got back drenched like dogs, they told me what they've seen in the woods, a few patients who're mutilated like mindless zombies chased them until they escaped their claws." Afterwards the middle-aged lady ambled up to the British aristocrat, holding his stare with a smugly wry smirk, creased across her face so that he to easen his belief in what kind of a monster was chargeable for patients' oblivious disappearance for the aspiring holy man. "And I almost forgot the Mexican! Her corpse was found in the woods, but I'm not sure he's responsible for her death." Chills, sedating flimsily and frailly his bones and muscles provoked his skeptic apprehension, birthing by brewing and cooking inside him. In order to not disappoint his rare bird, he followed her on their way out of the office to inspect warily Dr. Arden's office and in case, if they bump into him to confront him and call the police.

--- *** ---

--- Later that Day ---

The moon streaked the Boston's sunsetting sky with a brilliantly esthetic interweave of somber pigments and orange and pink, airbrushing the prospect. The already stark trees with its once glamorous monumental crowns, swarmed with crispy leaves have already whistled by richly blanketing in a carpet the ground.

After Jude and Timothy researched Dr. Arden's office for any tangible piece of evidence that portrayed him as a vicious Nazi war criminal even a barbarous sadist, they found one of the patients, strapped on the patient bed in his labotary and most of all, they were horrified by releasing the patient before he found his own death or stoicly experiencing the dynamic roller coaster of physical and mental torture. At first, the man of the cloth didn't want to believe the most professional doctor of science was capable of something inhumane and associating him with a manipulative fraud and sadist, nevertheless, witnessing a couple of stored former patients' organs and flesh for his next level's experiments and the lunatic, strapped on his bed for being the imminent prey were far from tolerable.

Miraculously, the doctor of science was arrested earlier shortly after his laboratory was surveyed by the members of the clergy and calling the authorities.

Last but not least, the former promiscuous nightclub singer's ecclesiastical duties were insurmountable for her lately. She was more than determined to stay in a motel until the day after by packing her luggage from tonight and tomorrow to emigrate in a small apartment in one of the small towns of New York, living on her own for the rest of her days.

While the former holy woman was folding her sheerly white cotton nightgown, consequently caching it in her suitcase, meanwhile, a handful of door raps kept her wits about her recent visitor, standing beside the office door.

"Sister," It was Frank, the former police officer who set a foot in her unwelcoming, almost ex-office by tiptoeing up to her en-suite bedroom, catching her preparing her baggage to flee for a motel. "What are ya up to now?"

Heavy sigh flushed her chest, suckling on her lower rosy-coloured lip as her uncoiffed hair was tied in a low, casual bun with a fistful of headstrong gilded curls, framing her round, full profile. A midnight black dress with boat neckline and cotton longsleeves with its hem flaring across her round, well-defined knees hugged her svelte figure with black classy stilettos, shoeing her petite, frail feet.

"I think these ecclesiastical duties for me are coming a bit too much for me, Frank! I'm determined to move in New York from tomorrow and working something much different than serving the miserable diocese."

"I'm not amused why ya have chosen something better, despite," Woefulness highlighted his voice, approaching the blonde without violating her personal space, biting sheepishly his upper lip, whereas she packed the rest of her remarkable paraphernalia in the suitcase. "Despite I'll genuinely miss ya, sister! It's amazing journey to be together for these years but I'll fully respect yar decision, ya know!" All of a sudden, she turned to face him, holding his gaze with a ruefully friendly smile, thrieving upon her rosy-coloured, cherub lips.

"The lifestyle of celibacy and being a nun is nothing else than a burden to be a normal human being, if ya get me! And that's why I want a fresh start in New York as I've resigned from the church."

"So it's not a sister anymore, is it?" His pale-pinkish lips curled in the enquiry, raising an arch of his thick, grizzly eyebrow.

"It's just Jude or Judy. Judy is my real name."

"Judy, Judy!" He repeated with jab of warmness, accentuating his northern accent. Glowing smile indicated alongside his parchment, slightly wrinkled complexion. "I like it better." The raspiness in their snickers' choir filtered the en-suite bedroom's background, hushing the resilient silence in the middle of the night. "And where are ya about to spend the rest of the night?"

"In a motel."

"D-Do ya have enough cash for only one night?"

"I'll be good." Then his solely free mammoth, veiny hand yanked from his slacks' pocket a handful of dollars, reckoning them approximately a hundred and fifty dollars, throughout handing them in a solemn offer to the former devotional sister of the church with a smile, patterning a thousand of benevolent textures. "No, no, Frank! Take them back. I'll be okay without extra cash." Remorses pumped into her veins, cooling the temperature of her blood if she once accepts irrationally the money. Discomfort contoured her stunning facial features.

"Just take them, Judy! Ya won't regret if ya need something in case and a smile to sparkle once ya find out you aren't out of money eventually."

Instead of bland bickers, the blonde accepted kindly the handed money, thus spreading her arms for a kindhearted, tight embrace for farewell with her favorite ex-coworker. In the interval, the security guard snaked his strong, muscly arms around her shoulders, responding to her embrace. They molted altogether in the affable, warm hug.

"Ya have been always the kindest and amidst the fewest loyal friends of mine!" Woeful whisper floated from her lips without breaking the hug.

--- *** ---

--- A Few Minutes Later ---

The middle of the night also aroused Timothy's worries for not seeing his right hand for hours after investigating the former Nazi war criminal's laboratory and calling the police on him, subsequently being on a trial within months only. He was sitting glassily in his own office until the monotonous click of stilettos snapped him out of his train of thoughts, recognizing Jude's feminine, gracious footsteps. It aroused his interest to check what was going on, breaking the ice in the hushing abysmal hallways of the façade that was consumed by the nocturnal silence.

As soon as he got from his seat by strolling up to his office door, opening it in a single click, he glanced in the both directions of the corridor until he noticed the silhouette of the secretive woman. She wasn't clad in the attires of chaste or rather, the holy attires of the church with the wimple and rigidly shapeless, dark wool habit, concealing every inch of her petite-frame. The woman's silhouette was unrecognizable for the British compatriot, making him to scratch his head in unnerved manner with his small fingernails.

The truth eventually was the older lady was fleeing the mental institution's grand building within a minute without turning her back, thinking twice to return ever again. Somehow Elsa's ghost wasn't seen and she oddly vanished in the thin air during her flee without Jude's knowledge which peculiarly concerned her. The last time when the former woman of the cloth has seen the former actress was actually a couple of hours ago in the common room with Pepper.

The aspiring man of the cloth has never seen his rara avis out of her habit but something urged him to walk away from his office and to chase the mysterious lady until she ultimately vanishes at last.

He opted to tiptoe up to her without drawing further attention, transfixing its prying eyes on him as shadows and demons in the corners of the darkness drinking his plucked up courage.

When he escorted her subtly up to the stairs, she didn't turn to check who was after her. Once she imposed the grand massive stairway after passing the front double doors of the old asylum, throughout she approached her cab by unlocking it with her car keys after delving them in her purse. Timothy gave up to approaching her as he found his heart being cracked on trillions of flimsily glassy pieces, bleeding from his stabbed chest. His heart sunk in the depths of the misty, somber ocean of the heartbreaks. Little did he know the rational motives of the older lady to leave Briarcliff and most of all, he didn't even acknowledge the circumstance that she's no longer a nun. Crystalline chubby tears trickled rivulet on his lower eyelids at the heartaching scenery of the former sleazy nightclub singer getting in her vehicle by starting the incessant's buzzing car engine until her hands were on the steering wheel, taking an ultimate control of the vehicle. The irony was that she didn't glimpse and noticed somebody was observing the scenery of Jude driving up to the last destination of tonight. The motel.