The same night, when the exorcism took its place behind the walls of the most notorious madhouse, situated in Boston, the recent deceased committed patient or rather possessed by the Satan and its fiendish, somber venom was Jed Potter. The seventeen-year-old adolescent, whose possession was still arcane even shortly after his unpredictable death as he did unspeakable things such as bloviating in fiendish, deep voice, skinning the corpses of the barn animals. Furthermore, the exorcism didn't help with anything else as 3 devotional members of the church and a doctor were involved in and their efforts were as great as the false hopes for rescuing his soul as its devil and his contagious essence enveloped it in its hypodermic plague.

Shortly after the nun broke the news for the Potters about their deceased son via a heart attack, they couldn't help but mourn over his fresh death and pray for his heart out. Even one more victim of the exorcism was in the infirmary, in fact, the juvenile protégé of her mentor, Jude, fainted, just moments before the death overtakes the possessed young man and his entire being, despite Dr. Thredson's efforts to give him a couple of CPRs, the scared and bland prayers of Timothy. As soon as Judy broke the news to the Potters about their passed away son, she paid a visit to the infirmary, to check her favorite sister of the church and spending a quarter an hour, murmuring a recite of a prayer for her soul after the incident.

An hour later, the former promiscuous jazz nightclub singer was in her austere, dim light office, all alone with her befuddled train of thoughts, common loneliness for lacking a male company to comfort her and prejudices. Not only the mourn over the smitten teenager was one of the issues, agonizing her cells and being incapable of thinking clearly, factly, he called her a whore and a murderer and these words imprinted in her mind as recollected memories. Nevertheless, the thirty-year-old lady hoped for more than anything her love interest, Timothy, to not hear them. If he has heard either of these words or the both altogether, on the contrary she would expect ocean of questions or the coarsest thing of all rejecting her since it has been 2 years they've known one another with his arrival and turning the former tuberculosis hospital in a madhouse for criminally insane, besides he has chosen her as his own right hand and calling her a rara avis. Little did the blonde know whether if he has heed them unintentionally or purposely as it might affect their relationship, changing it significantly on 360 degrees.

The wool, conservative clerical wimple was already casted off her head, no longer coiffing her released lion mane of flossy old Hollywood aureate tresses as they freely piled up on her shoulders when she was sitting on the cherry wood bureau of hers, covering her tear-stained face in her both elvish, sweltering hands, ducking her head and sobbing quietly to herself.

Perhaps insomnia and a vague headache agonized her at the moment as she abstained to crawl in the bed by wearing nothing else than her ravishing red negligee as Jed has exposed her past and thereafter addressing her with the abominable words with which she was portrayed.

All of a sudden, a mere door tap snapped her out of her train of thoughts, crying out loud in half-hearted, jaded tone without removing her hands from her covered face as little did she know who was paying a visit to her office in the wee hours of midnight.

"Y-Yes? Come in!" The holy woman insisted until her office door squeaked as it was opened by Timothy Howard, the twenty-seven-year-old man of the cloth, consequently shutting the door behind him.

"Good evening, rare bird!" Her sobs subdued, due to the fact, the older woman wanted to conceal the circumstance she was sobbing and weeping. In the meanwhile, his velvety, British accent emphasized the common nickname for her as a benevolent, boyish smile distorted across his berry-coloured lips, walking up to her desk and seating against her, noting something leery behind her covered face in the palms of her drenched hands. The younger man opted his best to not admire her ethereal, unarguable beauty as her ruffled halo ringlet of gilt curls were hardly tipping the desk, transfixing his warm chocolate brown pools on her as the warmest chocolate glistened into his, filled with sheer concern.

"Good evening again, Timothy!"

"Is everything alright, Jude?" The priest was concerned more than anything for his rara avis by judging her vulnerable, almost helpless condition even if he hasn't acknowledged whether if she has sobbed or being vexed by judging her suspicious tone, arousing his humongous inquisitiveness to discover and figure out the paradoxal mysteries behind her masked demeanor right away.

"Not at all." The blonde confessed as the confession curled along with her lips in a choir, motioning, removing her hands from her porcelain, youthful complexion so that to give a piece of evidence to her love interest her current condition was vibrantly contrasting the blissful smiles that honed up in the corner of her lips and leaping hearts every time whenever they were beholding and encountering one another since they were madly in love with one another. Howsoever, the church and celibacy were the crucial ordeals, refraining them from making romantic revelations and most of all, being nothing than a platonic bond for now. "But ya don't need to question everything."

"Rare bird, look! I'm concerned about you and everything that surrounds you. Just tell me right away what bothers you!" The suddenness of the sniffles escalated as they floated in her austere, unwelcoming office, tucking absently a couple of stray honey tresses behind her petite, sensitive ear, meeting his piercing, reassuring gaze as her hazelish-brown irises were encircled by puffy, reddish as his heart ached to behold her in such despaired condition.

"The possessed dead boy!"

"I completely understand that his death was so spontaneous and arcane and I'm totally alright with the circumstance of grieving over that." The British compatriot got from his seat, ambling up to Jude as his oxfords clicked against the cemented flooring, leaning to cup her tear-stained cheeks in the palms of his mammoth, surprisingly warm hands, locking up her caramel brown pools as a thumb wiped off the poured crystal, salty tears on her face. "Jude, I care about you! Is that the only thing that troubles you even if my heart is broken to see you with a sad look on your face?" Meantime, the older lady's heart melted as soon as he mentioned he cares about her as her sniffles continued monotonously.

"Ya don't have any idea what he called me and the word is absolutely an incarnation of what I'm actually."

"He called you a whore?" In the interval, the blonde affirmed his words, nodding her head humbly as his thumb incessantly wiped off the tumbling tears. "Jude, you aren't a whore or whatever he associates you with the dreadfulness! You've always been a strong, kind, intelligent and amazing woman. The demon lies about you."

"Timothy, ya don't have any clue what it hurts me except this!"

"Is it had to do with the exorcism or Briarcliff?"

Little did the Monsignor know what else was bothering right hand, besides the atrocious words which were directly addressed to her during the exorcism and mortifying each bone and muscle of her body with electrifying shame and disgust. Disgust and shame from the former character, she used to be a protagonist or a main character in her past life before joining the church and taking the solemn vows, in order to purify herself as once a sinner and a wild huntress of the alcohol, one-night stand lovers and lust. The obnoxious, non-beneficial formula for numbing the pain of her past and the numerous heartbreaks she has been through along with loneliness and misery.

The truth eventually was today just before the exorcism, Father Malachi has talked in private with Judy's mentor, Mother Claudia for abolishing the young lady from the dull, sinister walls of the mental hospital, throughout transmitting her to the Fallen Hopes' institution, well-known for the nuns and priests, who are being housed there for breaking their vows and leeriness oozed of them, located on a small island of Boston. Far away from her love interest. Far away from her favorite employee Frank. Far away from her favorite senseless sister of the church, Mary Eunice. Nonetheless still being guided and mentored by Mother Claudia. Furthermore, the former licentious nightclub singer figured out she should say farewell earlier than the morning after to her favorite priest as she should shortly after coming to her senses to gather her luggage, stored up in her suitcase, containing her remarkable, unique paraphernalia and attires, to flee the facility without an ado.

Moreover, the elder members of the church weren't delighted to behold their protégés' frequent interaction, sensing prejudices behind their platonic even discreetly intimate bond as they were more than determined to plot the abolishment of Judy from the former tuberculosis hospital as she was falsely framed for breaking her vows. She hasn't even being intimate with her boss.

"No! Mother Claudia and Father Malachi have discussed something that is going to severely influence our interactions. I'm going to be transmitted in another institution in Fallen Hopes on the following morning."

"Oh no! They can't do this to us." Eventually Timothy was beyond immensely livid, due to the fact their mentors were as relentlessly disquieting as their radical, emphatic decisions of separating the young with great potential couple. Perhaps spleen and melancholy were brewing and cooking inside the both juvenile members of the clergy as venomous potions. "I promise I'll return back for you or we will somehow unite together again. But I've something for you which I couldn't help but give it as piece of memorable items to have, thinking about me." Meanwhile as Timothy scooped his favorite nun in a warm, tight, in fact to alleviate each other, absorbing mutual warmness as their hearts both and sunk over their eventual, remorseless rupture, plotted by Mother Claudia and Father Malachi, who weren't keen fans of the sudden, flabbergasting change in their relationship as they verged to be even lovers or at least potential lovers. At the moment, the younger man's nostrils couldn't resist the ravishing fragrance of Judy's hair as flowers' aroma taunted his nose, unable to resist and admire its aroma.

When the both pious members of the clergy broke off the hug as Judy's sniffles subdued in the vacuum, the British compatriot took from his charcoal black trousers' pocket an enveloped and rolled in scroll shape message and a golden, small, brilliantly shimmering its goldest pigments ring as Judy's hazelish-brown eyes were embraced with the overwhelmingly satisfying presents for her as crystal, bittersweet tears welled in her eyes, staining her porcelain, pale as ghost complexion all over again.

"Are these for me?" In the interim, she unrolled the enveloped message after removing its velvet crimson envelope, consequently scanning in a quick eyeing the message, dedicated to her as Jude mumbled distressed.

"Yes, my rare bird! They're for you. Only and just for you!"

Dear Jude,

I haven't always had the courage to write a message, dedicating it to you but finally my courage plucked up suddenly. I've always had these intensifying and still pure feelings of you, no matter what the passions and impulsive instincts persuade us to do otherwise. Nonetheless, stay strong and no matter everything, I'll never allow the separation apart us and to be part of our lives. Even if you're being conveyed to another institution, I strongly promise you I'll come back for you, because I love you and you're my rare bird.

From Monsignor Timothy Howard

"Timothy, it wasn't yar obligation to do it for me but that's so kind of ya!" The cursive written names were the first thing she noticed in the brief message, bringing her joy and tears in the same time. "Thank you for everything and the kindness! And for these special presents!"

"I'll do anything for you, rare bird! I won't allow Father Malachi and Mother Claudia separate us. That's nothing on the world I shouldn't allow to happen." He wiped with a thumb the last gushing tears, forbidding them to stain her sufficiently, already tear-stained sanguinely tinted face.