Author's Note: That's the final part of the trilogy one-shot Sweet But Psycho with my favorite psycho and priest feat with the female OC Nancy! If you haven't read the previous 2 parts of the trilogy and you have hopped up right there, subsequently go check them in a jiffy! 

Furthermore, I would like to thank everybody that has separated from their free time to read this trilogy and hopefully you like and enjoy anything I continue to masterize and deliver out!

--- *** ---

--- A Few Weeks Later or So ---

--- 13th of November, 1964 ---

In a few weeks, a couple of events spellbinded and staged phenomenally stark while the days were passing at heavy rain's stormy pace. The disappearance and the demise of the nymphomaniac Shelley. The attempted escape of Kit, Grace and Lana during the enormous storm. The possession of Sister Mary Eunice. The disappearance of the patient Nancy who was surreptitiously residing the young psychiatrist's home eventually.

Since the events' dynamic roller coaster choir playing out rapidly rabid, subsequently the both owners of the ill-famed, dilapidating mental hospital for criminally insane had heated discussions about the satanist's abrupt evanescence in the past few weeks and questioning who might be responsible. Initially, Jude didn't have any intentions of fleeing Briarcliff until in the past handful of days whenever she fled the monumental façade to research the familiar outskirts of the small city of Massachusetts, she didn't find any substantial trace of the young woman. Even the Doctor Arden didn't grant her real location for the moment. All he knew was she scarcely paid any visit to his laboratory or an office.

Even though the ambitious Monsignor's chaotic daily schedule with paying a visit to other hallowed sites where his very presence was mandatory, anyway the last thought that railed in his vagon of thoughts about the Satanist that might be his last hope to find her was finding out about the young psychiatrist's location of his residence. Despite his lacking interactions with the young woman and fathoming and assimilating utterly her backstory, the real motives why she was committed against her will for such harmlessly arcane reason and her beliefs in the vile, thus he didn't have any intentions of gving up at all.

Once the British compatriot pulled up his ebony cab to the psychiatrist's home, consequently he hopped out of the cab momentarily and locked up while marching up towards the front door, scanning in the corner of his smoky quartz gem that the rooms lacked of vibrant aureate illumination, factly, they dipped in the ebony darkness. The late-autumn featherly-soft zephyr mischievously, stealthily fanned the aspiring Monsignor's conservatively wool, dark attires of the chastity and his chestnut, smartly trimmed haircut. In spite of Oliver's house rooms weren't lit up, Timothy didn't give up at all.

Standing before the front door and fashioning into a balled fist his mammoth, masculinely veiny hand to rap series of times against the wooden material to taunt the owner of the property's attention in no time, subsequently the echo of the footsteps emanated from the corridor and zinging towards the front door until the front door didn't click dully, emphatically unlocked and swung sufficiently broad to the offered scale of space of Oliver crooking his orthodoxy marbled, dexterous fingers to hold the door and his cocoa brown optics boring into the British compatriot's gaze.

"Good evening, Monsignor! I haven't been expecting you so far." The sheer incredulity and overwhelemedness, medling its brilliantly intoxicating compound to contour roughly, ruthlessly the doctor's facial attributes opted to not alter even any single curve of the contour to obscure any wee inkling of his subtle and cryptic character. A wickedly affable smile tugged at the corner of his pale-pinkish, lusciously cherub lip.

"Good evening, Doctor Thredson! Where's Miss Nancy Lavender Goodwood?"

"I don't know what you are even talking about!" The balefully bared teeth of the British aristocrat whilst fashioning furiously instant his colossal, alabaster hands into balled fists and manifesting his scintillatingly nocturnal, gruesome glare at the psychotic doctor taunted the younger gentleman to stiffle an amused gasp by nipping the raw spot of his bottom plump lip promptly.

"Where's she? She's been missing from Briarcliff for a few weeks and you don't have any idea how big chaos is whirling and twirling lately due to the occurance of-"

"I really can't tell you, Monsignor!" Suddenly the older gentleman maneuvered his balled fists to push Oliver roughly against the wall with his entire strength while Timothy scurried rabidly rapid inside the psychotic doctor's property to rummage for any trace of the missing young woman until he opened widely, carelessly opened the basement's rusty, iron door and squinting up in the corner of his stare the unconscious young woman as his heart raced perkily hysterical.

"Oh no! No!" Dashing hastily to descend the stairs and to scoop up the motionless, senseless body in his protective, altruistically affectionate embrace thoughtlessly, impulsively to flee the psychiatrist's property before it was too late, unable to catch his own breathing during his dynamic journey of his quest, the young woman hasn't motioned any single fleshy muscle. "Nancy! I really need to drive you to the hospital before this psychotic bastard has finished either you or me."

Without a second thought and without an ado, the British aristocrat zinged thoughtlessly megawatt from the basement after ascending promptly the stairs and overlooking the antagonistic attitude of Oliver and laying the immobile body of the atheist on the passenger seat of his jet-black vehicle and then hopping up inside by locking themselves before Oliver finds any methods to break inside.

Within a few moments, the car's monotonously lifeless engine commenced humming and the holy priest's hands manipulated to work on the steering wheel, pulling out the vehicle towards the impending destination. The Hospital! 

Author's Final Note: What are your genuine thoughts on the trilogy? I would be truly happy if you enjoyed and liked it. It's my first time writing about Oliver and I'm slightly nervous about his portrayal, in fact, it's not the same as much as with Timothy for example. I solemnly promise I'll deliver out more Oliver one-shots or stories to satisfy y'all! Sending you ginormous love!