Previously on Wings of Light:
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"You're rather the one who makes me the happiest man ever living in this world! Thank you for everything and for gracing not only ourselves with one more addition to that splendid family, but also our lovely cherub angel to have a beautiful little sister or an adorable little brother of his!"
"I was pretty scared I may be through the perimenopause right away instead of getting pregnant. I was being through the first stages of that perimenopause."
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"Not only there are higher chances of your future child to develop more health issues, moreover let's not forget it will be smaller and it will have mainly problems with the breathing, brain, heart and so forth."
"I'm going to keep that baby inside me unless our lives are extremely endangered when it comes up to my health condition. I don't care if I'm going to give a birth to a tiny piece of meat or an average one, anything to deprive my very second addition to this family I've always craved to have will be under no circumstances."
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"So Adams, Tennesse is your dream destination for a honeymoon?"
"To be honest, yes! The less people in one place, less problems, Andrea!"
--- *** ---
"W-Where am I? W-What's this place?"
"Who are you?"
--- *** ---
"Am I really?"
"Yes, you're! There's no reason to be afraid of something that's far cry from real."
--- *** ---
--- *** ---
While the female trio populated each inch of the compact flowerstore in the Hartford's slums, the early April's relentlessly radiantly charming, happy sun spellbinded its own celestially aureate fitler to shower gradually the shut windows' indisputably flimsy glasses, beautifully golden curtain, pale enough, veiled the exposed fleshes of Madeleine, Andrea and Cassandra to its leaked detection.
Lately the Hartford's common climate vibrantly contrasted to the past weeks' weather, due to its real coordinates of the small city of Vermont. Moreover, the days were sunnier when the wee hints of spring casted its own sunrise almost a month ago with the unceasing catharasis of the nature and melting the luxuriously alabaster, fragile snowy carpet and its ornates that once magnificently mesmerized the majority of the audience, allowing themselves to glance through their windows with their childlike inquisitive cabochons or on the contrary coping up with their comfort zone to balefully take the risk to encounter the true face of the nature. The winter nature. The wintery's magnificently authentic prospect as medley of frosty climate, aggressively howling winds, the bountiful beehive of alabasterly waltz, ticklishly wee snowflakes. To eavesdropping the rich soundtrack of the seventh heaven children and adolescents' hysterically timeless screams and laughters, pitching the wintery prosect and muting ruthlessly the aggressive wind's howling.
Howsoever, once the snowy and icy carpets ceased to batter outside and bloodthirstily adorning every inch of the small city of Vermont's vista, the seasonal life sunset promptly with its own balmily sunny days. The genuine notion of seasonal catharsis after the chaotically hazardous, nevertheless, aesthetically eye-catching winter.
Even though the female trio genuinely missed the former members of the church along with their little ray of sunshine, it never ceased to astonishingly embolden them to carry on with their genuinely arduous business in the flowerstore. Notwithstanding the leisurely discouragement of motivation to continue their strong-willed work with vending galore of plants and flowers for certain amount of money and trade with the clients a presentably helpful piece of advice, it wasn't a detrimentally unspeakable phenomenon that occurred way too often. It was pretty seldom and whenever it ceased to slumber peacefully, subsequently the aftermaths were inhumanely unforgivable, unavoidable. Was the true incarnation of discouragement tried its best to play its own cards right? Was the true notion of house of cards not only for their humor and very beings, but also their crucially lucrative business?
Fortunately, Andrea and Judy were the only ladies that were not only much older than Madeleine and Andrea's daughter Cassandra, further possessing galore experience in the life and in general. They were essential wings of the business especially Judy whose insanely creative concept to earn her own money and perpetually separate the earned money in its own budget via its vended products even her daughter-figure backed her up, besides individually earn her own cash for the diligent, headstrongly immense hardwork implied in spending partly of her day with the Bostonian in a flowerstore, conversating ocean of unknown customers who either struggle to take care of their own plants and flowers or on the contrary having the brilliantly great wish to purchase their own one of a kind product, promisingly oathing to take a good care of it along with bonus instructions shortly before fleeing the flowerstore.
"Cara Mia why must we say goodbye? Each time we part my heart wants to die! Darling hear my prayer! Cara Mia fair!" Whilst the proper functioning of the radio elaborated headstrongly after being plugged in the plug for a couple of hours, Cara Mia by Jay and the Americans was recently playing as the silver-tonguedly melodious undertone of the lead vocalist chanted slowly but surely the song's lyrics. The lyrics spoke its emotions, while pairing with the meaningfully tuneful, delicately slow instrumental for additional ambience to the song.
"We've to guess who the biggest bookworm is there!" In the meanwhile, the Michiniganian's femininely dainty, alabaster fingers danced apt to tandem around the book about the flowers she and Jude owned in the site, itself, her cinnamon brown jewels manifested to survey in a scrutiny each word, each poured with hard-work and arduous creativity paragraph, jet-black ink's glimmer past her vision at every perused word and sentence. A vibrantly glowing, vague smile welcomingly flashed upon the Michiganian's face, almost pretending to be oblivious to the middle-aged lady's mischievous jeer, parting upon her naturally nude pink, cherub lips. During Madeleine's distraction with the book about the flowers, Andrea's vibrantly delicate, mildly, pleasantly tanned fingers crooked around the mug of freshly brewed hot chocolate, flushing her nostrils to inhale with its draining, invincible power the acutely gracious fragrance of freshly brewed hot chocolate, squinting up her jet-black jewels at her friend, absurd skepticism twisting grotesquely her facial attributes, whereas her daughter Cassandra jotted down studiously on a separate sheet of paper of the miniature, remarkably rare notebook the recent budget, manipulating her conservatively mauve-painted lips to curve into a soft O at the series of crafted indiscernible, diligently hardworking mumbles. She was having slightly tough time calculating the actual budget of the flowerstore and its total sum of cash they've earned per a customer for an hour at least, depending on the frequency of their visits. Moreover, the juvenile mother of two used to be an efficiently tireless, passionately enthusiastic student during her school years especially high school. Despite the tremendously bewildering, dynamic dilemmas and dramas which she's being through her childhood and adolescence, it didn't prevent her from darting her utter focus on her studies and earning good marks except in Math, where once she was on the verge to fail in tenth grade.
Even though Andrea wasn't a keen enthusiast of spending her leisure time to read books or anything associated with news on blank, nevertheless, it didn't compensate her younger years when her humongous interest in the books fiercely oozed of her and generously participated in her daily hectic schedule. Unlike the former prostitute, the juvenile blonde's searing interest to peruse anything associated with Literature especially her favorite genres which were mystery, thriller, informative and historical, maintained the timeless passion, engulfed into the compact, divinely magical world of the Literature and their authors' memorable masterpieces.
"Five by fifteen," The teasingly vehement pulsations, hammering frequently into the other young woman's bony ribcage due to the immense pressure she's being engulfed narrow-mindedly to calculate the total budget for today from the very first minute the trio has stepped inside the store to vend plants and flowers up to the recent unnervingly ticking second, the inescapable quivering motion of her fingers clumsily grasped the fountain pen after maneuvering the tip to scrub sufficient ink to interprete the recent compute, despite the rich soundtrack of her company, the radio's recently playing song and the luxuriously elating, authentic birdsongs, comfortingly ghosting the afternoon atmosphere. "Seventy-five! Three by ten!" Clash of vowels and syllables sluggishly combating one another for sheer domination, shamelessly crafted the shy, precise final calculation of the first part of Cassandra's current task. Her dark big, roundish embers fiery, stubbornly imbibed each ounce of the blank with the numbers exquisitely paged up and sorted.
"Maddie, sweetheart," A second, hopeful attempt to draw the young lady's attention in no time, meantime, the Wisconscian registered to lift up her mug to gently sip of her hot brown liquid as it slightly, painfully scalded her wet, strawberry-coloured tongue, stilling her darted pitch-black bijous at the juvenile blonde and the benevolently sympathetic smile, twisted across her facial attributes. Her solely free petite, tanned hand managed to nudge gingerly her satin, cotton rosewood-hoodie-clad sleeve on reflex without having any malicious intentions of granting her unpredictable chills. "Can you hear me?" The pleasant northern lilt of the former prostitute excessively spotlighted her inquiery, begging for an immediate response once it was genuinely wise, rationally reflected.
"Urm, what," Pinching broadly widened her hazelish-brown bijous, narrowed naively virginal, confused up at the middle-aged lady's attributes, encountering her vibrant gaze that maternally warmed the pit of her stomach and graced her with ethereally celestial comfort even though it was slightly incomparable to the former sister of the church's, whose gaze was far cry from coldheartedly stern, sadistic, thirsting eagerly to gawk glassily jaded at the wretched souls' aftermaths of their torture which she perfomed. The haphazardness of its deft motion of the elasticity of the grin, curving into a wide O and leaking the flawlessly ivory, firm teeth of Madeleine, the caught-off-guard humor highly affected the strong accent of her features and darkening her naturally ghostly pale facial skin in bright, healthy cherry. "I'm dearly sorry, Andrea! I didn't hear you as well. I was just reading about the orchids." A heavy sigh refreshingly, dexterously measured Madeleine's initial apprehension, opting to calm her nerves, continuously reproducing the low hum under her breath.
"It's alright, Maddie! I was just teasing that we've to guess who's the biggest bookworm there!"
"Oh! It's true I'm actually always having a finger in the pie when it comes up to books."
"That's fashionably nice to hear from a young person like you!" Lingering her only free hand's dexterously spidery marbled fingers, bracing gingerly the other lady's elbow, an enthusiastically casual nod reckoned her younger colleague, subsequently conjugating a humdrum, low hum. What it gravely astounded the former hooker was her friend and colleague in the same time's humongous interest was nothing else than in the books and sparing partly her remaining leisure daily to peruse cautiously several pages, marking its perpetual tiny progress with the reading process. "I used to be seriously to be on fire about books when I was much younger. Approximately your age!"
"I'll be your love till the end of time! Cara Mia mine! Cara Mia mine! Cara Mia mine! Cara Mia mine!"
"Aw, really? That's incredibly sweet, Andrea!" Manipulating the shrug of her femininely dainty shoulder blades, the young blonde managed to amorously tilt her head, thereafter muffling with her fashioned into balled fist hand a healthily guttural, demurely girlish giggle hardly inching the green tea-stained breath, fanning featherly-soft her alabaster flesh. "Go ahead!"
"I used to be seriously a sucker for books when I was your and Cass age! My favorite genres are romance, criminal and mystery as well!" In the interval, the Michiniganian couldn't help but usher her wet, strawberry-coloured tongue to twirl and whirl out of her mouth and ardently, greedily moisten her tea-stained lips, consequently extraordinarily keeping their glossiness and hydration, casting their weakly translucent, feeble glint. "But once I and Gus split up, I quit reading books regularly or rather I scarcely have opened a single page once in a half a year at least."
"I'm really sorry to hear that you have being through galore of pressure and that ceased your enthusiasm to pursue your passions!" Suddenly Madeleine warily shut the rigid pages of the book about the flowers and dumping it plainly on the top of the hardwood bureau. A mild, unknowledgably inexorable heartbreak clumsily tore off her flimsy heart on thousand of glassily frail fragments, putting herself in the former hooker's shoes and depicting mindly the explicit images and flashbacks of experiencing a split up with nobody else than the person she divinely loved, respected even gifted her myriad of trust. Blurring the thousand patterns of radiant vibrancy, permeated across her mouth, a woeful texture rigidly, patchily hazed any wee hint of elation. Even though Madeleine and Andrea became friends and acquaintances for very first time in the past days especially a week ago or so, it truly touched her small segment of the older lady's backstory, associated with dynamic roller coaster and medley of painfully sore tribulations, dumping their own luster scars encumbering her hurricane of thoughts.
"It's okay, darling! I'm stronger," All of a sudden, the front door of the flowerstore swung straightforwardly, fluently widely opened at the prospect of the impending visitor, occupying with his very presence and catching off guard the young mother who shifted her utmost attention to Sebastian for a split second, biting incidentally her tongue and thus forging a reluctant gasp, generous layer of blush mapping her porcelain, youthful complexion. "Than ever!" The pure frustration, composing its own symphony in the grunts, sailing out of the talkative pairing's tongues, they narrowed primly intrigued at the current visitor, whereas his masculinely ordinary, sufficiently heavy footsteps melodically whispered against the floor, encouraging the sheer distraction of the horde of ladies to transfix their twains of minerals at the large-framed gentleman, shoving uneasily his colossal, monstrously weathered hands into his charcoal gray cashmere slacks' profound pockets.
"Good day, sir! What we may help with?" Series of irresistibly childlike, gullible stutters prominently wrenched the other young woman as her heart dramatically surrealistically raced and oblivious to the sudden paroxysm, swaddling icily her heart's glassy, fragile fragments.
Hostile trustlessness potently, megawattly linked its connection with remarkably somber highlight of Andrea and Madeleine's facial features once their expressively dark minerals drained every functioning ounce of Sebastian's large frame, in order to assimilate unceasingly his body language and arcane mannerism, besides realizing it's the nefarious serial killer's older brother paying a visit to their flowerstore.
Meantime, a ferociously obvious, eerie flat line crinkled its permeation past the middle-aged gentleman's parchment face, whereas the luxuriously inward soundtrack of hostile growls rolled out of the both ladies' mouths sloppily, ruthlessly, scarcely gracing their patience's divine, sacred dominance that was dethroned by its ominuous impulse and angrily fiery adrenaline, pumping into their veins and savage rage pulsating into their petite frames. No matter if it was Cayden or anybody from his family, the both blondes were wildly prepared to confront them and persistently, notoriously grant the sequel of the heated debate if it's actually foreshadowed lastly. They didn't have any intentions of serving either Martha, Sebastian or Cayden's kindness, factly, they're appallingly hazardous and imperiling not only their lives, but also their their reputation somehow if their starkly endless benevolence was undeservedly served to one of the most notorious family names of Hartford, Vermont.
Even if it's the only daughter or the only sibling which the Italian compatriot possesses and pearly treasures and loves them with each ounce of his heart, Andrea and Madeleine instantly manifested their hostility and unmasking their sympathy and disguising into their real themselves with their true identities when encountering a dangerous ordeal, blocking their path to ultimate peace and felicity or at least authentically majestic harmony. They could barely see the difference between any family member of the Grays. It would cost them sufficient time to fathom their weaknesses and strengths that weren't particularly linking mutually, unqieuly the infamous trio.
"I've a strongly bad feeling about this." Leaning down to play a silent phone game with swapping mutual whispers rooming their flexible ears, the older woman raised an arch of her elegantly thin eyebrow, examining in a scrutiny the leeriness, welling in the fountain of the Italian compatriot's older brother from head to toes, utmost accentuating the bleakly diabolical shadow, spellbinding additionally, critically his suspiciousness. Hot chocolate-stained breath playfully, devilishly teased the Michiganian's mellow, marbled earlobe. "Keep your wits about you and him!"
"Of course, ma'am! Your command is also my command!" Lowering rapidly the decibels of her transmuted mumble, in order to not get herself and the Norwegian compatriot into chaotically unimaginable trouble, invicinbly mudding their very consciences, meanwhile, her lip curled into a fleet balefully prim, rabidly perky grin.
"Cara Mia why must we say goodbye? Each time we part my heart wants to die! Darling hear my prayer! Cara Mia fair! I'll be your love till the end of time! Cara Mia mine!"
"I would like to buy a boquet of gardenias!" The intentions of the childless middle-aged gentleman were to purchase a boquet of gardenias for his niece, factly, to presentably mark her sonly discovered pregnancy with a gentlemanly gracious, altruistic present to demonstrate his platonic respect and love for her. Notwithstanding the circumstances, Martha's favorite flowers were actually gardenias, regardless their colour or hue.
"Okay, Mister!" The hoarseness in the diabolically wicked, subtly quiet chuckle, clicking the roof of the older man's mouth didn't vanish, fortunately, solely discernible for him. At the moment, the young lady who was the only vendor that demonstrated genuine hospitability towards the notorious serial killer's sibling and having no intentions of bringing herself crudely bland trouble, foreshadowing the sequence of its blandly barren heated discussions by judging his status and reputation. Cassandra's bright contrast compared to Madeleine and Andrea's policies when it comes up to the customers' status whether its kindness to be truly served to them even if they were donned up in the somberly ill-famed costume of their reputation and status exposed the true natures of the women. In the young mother of two's case when it was joint a word about the clients and their status in general, she's always demonstrated the incarnation of nirvanic benevolence until they didn't disrespect or belittled her in every single way.
During the boquet's construction process of gathering a fistful of single flowers to adorn fantastically the recently ordered product from Sebastian and maneuvering her lower body muscles to hunker up to the plainly velvet vase of lavish, extraordinary gardenias after lifting up her rear from her own seat to altruistically aid the visitor until he managed to stomp crudely cold the light-brunnette's loin, afterwards lingering the his shoed toes onto her spine, shooting a balefully antagonizing grimace at the duo who immediately participated in the clash.
"Noo! That's not part," Hiccups begged to pump its oxygen, coursing through the light-brunette's brittle lungs, thudding violently onto the carpeted flooring, bleating luxurious dose of blatantly sore, toilsome whimpers, desperately struggling to breathe and conjugate modicum of rational utterance. The severe stomp onto her loin multiplied rapidly the breathless groans and desperate whimpers, fastening her oral caverns, while the Wiconsian and the younger lady's failed attempts to grapple to apt to brace his arms to halt the forthcomingly disastrous damage.
"You sluts will pay," A venomously antagonizing hiss sailed out of the older gentleman's tongue, hunkering down when his parchment, light-heavy wrinkled complexion meagerly inched with his recent prey, fashioning his colossal, unamusingly chilly hands into balled fists, throughout spearing his balefully scintillating glare that may lethally gouged somebody's eyes off with a mere glare. Unyielding adrenaline dawdled its pulsation into his tall frame, shooting suspicious glance at the other ladies who attempted to halt him at any cost. "Especially you! I'm deeply ashamed of you who are befriending with liars just to ruin anybody!" All of a sudden, the accountant's registered to grapple barbarously unseen, crudely Cassandra's lion mane of velvet old Hollywood cinnamon tresses.
"You need a professional help!" When the female duo diligently, loyaly coupled platonically to stop the intruder, thus the former prostitute managed to surreptitiously to snatch violently fiendish his short mop of dark strands and perpetually pulling him by his short mop unlike the Michiganian charging her shoed foot to heinously kick him into the groins and thereafter weaken the accountant as the trio accomplishes bonus time during the afflictive, apocalyptic physical and mental agony of Sebastian, struggling to stifle the series of restlessly harrowing groans and grunts.
"Holy shit!" As soon as the Michiganian managed to kick in the groins the middle-aged gentleman, thereafter his round, muscular knees ushered to crump the carpeted floor, nipping at the raw spot of his lower baby-pinkish, chapped lip to haul his invicinbility without bleating blatantly its whimpers of the defeat. Stilling her barbaric grip on his neatly trimmed haircut, the Wisconsian bleated series of fiendishly smug gasps as her daughter was finally released from the vicious cycle and straightening her posture sluggishly due to the back pains, bittersweetly agonizing her muscles and bones to function properly.
"Do you want more my feet to suck your tiny balls and capsicum which may never," Inclining questionably a thin, elegant eyebrow, the juvenile blonde greedily, mischievously cocksure licked her plumpish lips at the second kick of Sebastian's crotch after charging it with her entire physical strength to inflict its severe sadism after erupting her ethereal adrenaline, pumping into her veins due to the accountant's unfriendly presence. "Impregnate any other woman or probably be sucked by your brother?" The haphzardness of the jeering, wry retaliation of the juvenile flowerstore saleswoman taunting her friends' hysterically unhealthy, jubilant guffaws piercing Sebastian's eardrums, meanwhile, he collapsed on the carpeted flooring bleakly hopeless while Andrea and Madeleine ventured to check on the young mother with protracting their benevolently satin, headstrong hands, in case to straighten her posture quicker as much as possible rather than struggling on her own. "Cass, is everything okay?"
"I guess I'm fine!" Humbly, docilely bobbing her head in strong agreement to affirm the younger lady's words, afterwards the Vermontian maneuvred her both elvish, silken hands to snatch the both offers and aid her to be on her feet up in no time.
"I was deadly worried for you, my sweetie!" At the moment, the former prostitute pressed a gentle, affectionately silky peck on top of her creation's temple on reflex, encouragingly squashing their jointed grip. "I'm glad this intruder didn't make you to kick off the bucket, because I'll eat my hat!"
"Cara Mia mine! Cara Mia mine! Cara Mia mine! Oh oh oh oh oh! Oh oh oh oh oh! Each time we part my heart wants to die!"
"I'm glad you're fine, but it's high time to get rid off the garbage there!" Squeezing gingerly, amiably the cinnamon-haired woman's petite, surprising warm hand, thus Madeleine manipulated her mouth to pepper her cheeks with dose of affectionately platonic, meaningfully comforting kisses, grazing sweet-temperedly her unblemishedly youthful, refreshingly luster facial skin. "C'mon, girls! Let's free our La Vie En Rose flowerstore!"
When the female trio marched up to the partly conscious large-frame intruder, consequently Andrea and Cassandra grappled the accountant by his both bulkily strong, muscly arms to haul him to drag him awkwardly to the door, whereas Madeleine open the door and within a couple of seconds, she kicked him in the back of his skull as her friends dumped hopelessly, shamelessly the infamous serial killer's older sibling to rot on the cemented ground, lukewarmly, contagiously spreading its own scourge of chilliness extensively from head to toes and the single click of locked door tingled its alarming tones into his ears.
Completely hopeless. Completely helpless. Completely desolated. The entire strength and stamina which the feminine trio managed to drain on their own with their apocalyptically meaningful, nimble fighting skills masterized momentarily their recent experience to confront unfriendly visitors in their flowerstore even when the pious former members of the clergy weren't at home.
Little did the accountant know what awaited him as impending adventures, regardless within a few minutes solely or otherwise within a couple of days what a blowminding ruckus would alter his life.
Once Cassandra got back to calculate the today's budget of the site and Andrea curiously retrieved the thick book about the flowers to studiously peruse each page that aroused her abrupt, utmost interest, the Michiganian decided to phone the nearby psychiatric hospital's manager to lock up Cayden's older brother as her nubilely dexterous fingers manifested to reach for the retro ebony phone and subsequently hoist the earpiece to one of her free hands. In the interval, her only free hand's delicate fingers worked on dialing the psychiatrist hospital's main phone number, in order to obscure the entire freedom of the Italian compatriot.
Within less than a half a minute of bare anticipation and composed soundtrack of pip, hammering into the juvenile blonde's eardrums and a sharp exhale measuring her actual, remaining patience, afterward the phone call synced to its fleet existence.
"You are talking with Vermont State Hospital's director Doctor Benson!" A weak motion of tremble waltzed hypodermically the Michiganian's fingers at the raspy, masculine voice sharpening his austerely welcoming, calm utterance, whereas the former prostitute's spidery dimly tanned, exquisitely creamy fingers crooked around her plain oyster-white mug of chocolate brown liquid, sipping of it as her jet-black optics glowingly, promisingly fleet impaled at her for a split second on reflex with a primly smug, wicked smirk embellishing her face. Despite the doubtless huge distance of the both locations, associated with Vermont State Hospital's real residence somewhere in Vermont, the coordinates gauged the monstrous distance of Hartford and Watersbury and that was one of the nigh mental institutions where Madeleine would grant her modicum of trust to strip off Sebastian from his entire, celestially sacred freedom of scouring the small city. Notwithstanding her fierce hostility with Sebastian, yet she was clearly oblivious to the Gray brothers' relationship apocalyptic nemesis, foreshadowed as sequence due to the unspeakable secret which Martha and her uncle surreptitiously solely knew. "What we may help with, ma'am?"
"There's clearly insane intruder outside La Vie En Rose's flowerstore, located in Hartford's slums, west of bar Felicity! He's extremely dangerous and dubious man and the brother of the actual infamous serial killer Cayden Gray." A bitterly remorseless lump seethed the Michiganian's feminine Adam's apple, begging for an immediate answer after darting her cinnamon brown optics at the Wisconsian for approval in swift motion, thereafter landing them on the door and the unconscious large-frame.
"Accepted, ma'am! The transport will be accomplished within a handful of hours maximum as guaranteed!"
--- *** ---
--- A Few Hours Later or So ---
When the daylight episode slowly bled into dim darkness, perfoming phenomenally its wee hints of the imminent inescapable nocturnal sequel of the day, the couple had beyond serene walk nearby the hotel with their infant and within an hour they got back inside the low-funded facility.
In spite of it's been less than a day within Jude and Timothy's arrival in the sonly-godforsaken facility, what it mesmerized them was the gloomily fashionable, refined Victorian style furnitures adorning remarkably each inch of their population even the food and drinks they've ordered so far weren't pure disappointment at all. Along with the other factors that struck them at first as tourists was also the rooms were flabbergastingly, gruesomely oozing of neat cleanness, kindheartedly ghosting every inch of the furnitures, walls and floor.
Notwithstanding the first impressions of the former members of the church about the hotel they might appear to be the final visitors before its permanent shut down, it luxuriously saddened Jude and Timothy due to the morbidly dark backstory of the facility, the quantity of visitors either daily or weekly wasn't parallel to the adequate, in order to earn a promisingly inviting budget its owners and increase the higher chances of the hotel's life to function way longer than the expected. Even though the opulence of tribulations they've being through, they're still keen fans of insanely spooky sites that gifted them with memorably unavoidable memories to ponder deeply into them when their physique inexorable equips with heavier wrinkles and weakens their muscles and their glossy, ominously potent elasticity, but the vividness of the explicitly memorable memories never leave them.
The memories, tracking down their immobility of functioning once they brightly illuminate their cells to reproduce and play out the explicit images of what they've recalled so far, they were the scars of the light and darkness. Regardless how nostalgic or detrimentally embarrassing the memories were, they refreshed somehow every consciousness.
Little did the British compatriot and his wife know about the gloomy backstory of the hotel and the real symptoms why it screamed loudly not only for bigger budget, but also for more customers to afford for one night their temporal visits inside the partly dead walls of the four-story building. Their lethally childlike inquisitiveness to discover each discreet secret, building its construction of cryptical façade of secrets under the form of house of cards once it leaks the pitiless enigma behind the real factor that repulses almost every tourist or on the contrary Tennnessian citizen even scarcely having the humongous courage to step inside a facility with blood-curdling backstory even if it's situated shortly after Adams' establishment.
During the Howards stay in hotel Underwood, there were a couple of clients who were staying inside the building for a day at least after their courage plucked them up to escape their comfort zone. The actual incarnation of hedonistic danger. The sanctum of the darkness. The sanctum of the inexperienced. The sanctum of the patchy hollow.
When the wee hours of the evening arrived sooner than later, the married pairing were getting ready for the dinner they're about to share downstairs and subsequently phone Madeleine and Roman to receive frequent updates not only about the flowerstore and Stephen, moreover about their conditions in general.
As the preparation advanced slowly but surely discreet in the booked room, the British compatriot was ready within a couple of minutes after taking a quick, lukewarm shower and donning up smartly himself in a refined charcoal black costume, coupled with pitch-black tie and formally exquisite oxfords, besides combing his chestnut hair. Unlike the former pious sister of the church who was in the middle of her preparation, she was seating on the edge of the king-sized bed with a silver pocket mirror, grasped tightly in one of her elvish, gloved hands, whereas her other hand registered to apply Ravish Me Red lipstick, contacting her lusciously plump lips and ebony mascara to spotlight boldly, cocksurely her long, thickly dark eyelashes.In addition to the Bostonian's outfit was added a formal, artistically majestic cocktail dress with one shoulder stably linking its long sleeve to swaddle conveniently one of her satin, lean arms as its navy blue dress's hem flared slightly above her round, lovely knees, paired tastily with thin, classy black stockings and stunning pair of navy blue stilettos, shoing securely her petite feet. Last but not least, sapphire jewelry such as earrings and choker's very pendant embellished her presentable appearance. Meanwhile, her lion mane of flossy old Hollywood gilt curls wonderfully, joyously curtained her pale façade.
"Dada!" Whilst the mascara's tube and brush swaddled cozily into the satin gloved hand of the former woman of the cloth to profusely spotlight her thickly dark, attractively long eyelashes with the prominent make-up addition, the young boy bleated a blatant honeyed address to his father, squinting up his huge, rotund caramel brown minerals at Timothy as Edward Ralph was affectionately, protectively scooped into his embrace.
"You wanted to say that your father looks nice?" Suddenly the British aristocrat registered to lean down as his nose tip nuzzled into a platonically doting Eskimo kiss the linking noses of the both males in the Howards. Skin to skin platonically brushing smoothly and appropriately expressing their paternal love in the form of a father-son relationship.
"Ya! Dada!"
"I'm truly pleased, my love!" Shortly after syncing the nose waltz in a moltingly promising, emboldening Eskimo kiss for a quarter a minute, thus the British aristocrat pressed a tender, dainty peck on his baby son's adorably button nose, conjugating a rationally healthy, indisputably mirthful giggle dripping from his nude pink lips. "Mommy is actually the beauty here and you're also doubtlessly beautiful, little sunshine!" Throughout on reflex, another peck pinched broadly widened the young boy's pair of honey brown embers, passionately alight by his father's kindhearted compliment along with another peck pleasantly compresing her well-carved, chubby cheek and a couple of fingers gingerly, presentably managed to stroke a fistful scale of dark strands. Sweltering heat scrabbled like fatalistically subtle rattlesnake in the pits of Edward Ralph and Judy's stomachs with its zapping process.
"Well, I used to be once a true bombshell!" After applying strong-willedly sufficient quantity of its mascara to contact the elegantly thin tissues, the middle-aged lady maneuvred to avert her gaze from the pocket mirror's manipulated reflection and squint up at her husband and their little ray of sunshine for approval, furrowing her thin, dark eyebrows. "Now I'm just the butt of a joke, because the past can't be brought along with the faded beauty I once possessed," Crossing one of her drop-dead gorgeously slender, appealingly nimble legs with its inner thigh weakly bedaubed her lap.
"Are you watching even what are you saying, rare bird?" In the meanwhile, the British compatriot ushered his securely muscly, conveniently warm arms to bounce the six-month-old infant, in order to bestow him with myriad of unconditional love and inexorable comfort, darting his smoky quartz gemstones at the older woman, subsequently transmuting its mere look into an enamored, superb ogle.
"I do, for sure!" A half-heartedly cold-blooded, sarcastic darkened Jude's brief ballad of joy with its silver-tongued tunes, throughout a rusty heavy sigh fastened her brittle lungs. "Why I've to keep such an attention to my mouth, Monsignor?" A bloody red-painted lip curled nimbly at the posed rhetorical question, accenting the razor-edged irony not only in the formal address to the former aspiring Monsignor, but also the rich flower of vibes, overflowing the undertones.
"How would you like to embrace the fact that you're still my drop-dead gorgeous rare bird, no matter if you're thirty years old or even forty-six?"
"How would ya like to buy an ace pair of eyeglasses to see how the things are?" A balefully mischievous grin mouthed the former licentious jazz nightclub singer's bloody red, cherub lips, quivering in the scoff and finishing with applying her formal make-up and then dumping its supplies inside her gothic Victorian style nightstand's drawer.
"Jude, did you just call me blind?"
"Not actually,"Within less than a few seconds, consequently the pious former holy woman lifted up her rear from the edge of the king-sized bed and approached her husband who was dotingly bouncing and rocking their little cherub angel. Dim intimidation peculiarly painted the younger gentleman's porcelain, unblemishedly young-looking complexion with candidly vivid hues. "But ya look undeniably handsome with our little cherub angel!" All of a sudden, the former aspiring Monsignor warily handed the infant to the former nun to spend her very first moments with him after their arduous preparation to flee their booked hotel room temporarily and organize specifically their schedule for tonight. Although the ambiguous dilemma of having a baby that was less than a year older and their honeymoon endured a week, it didn't prevent the wed couple to have fun and organize somehow creatively and originally their evening.
Despite the ordeals as parents which the duo are confronting either regularly or once in a while of a toddler, it didn't cease their life in general. Their intimate life. Their chaotically busy life. Their leisure. They tried their best to stably balance in every way their life and each remarkable aspect as middle-aged adults. The majority of the couples who were also parents had similar issues which were pretty relatable for Judy and Timothy, howsoever, their efforts to harmonize and balance everything was their top priority.
--- *** ---
In the wee hours of the evening in Hartford slowly bled into the twilight of the thickly wonderful ebony mantle, icily swaddling the living beings with its insecure darkness obscuring any lights' illuminations to curtain their exposed fleshes and attires, Martha decided to flee for Waterbury for awhile, in order to behold her uncle who was recently institutionalized in the Vermont State Hospital.
The train station wasn't graciously overcrowded with horde of strangers awaiting for their train dream destinations or at least to earn their precious visits by their own relatives or friends for which they're eagerly looking forward.
The roundish, alabaster moon hovered in the starless nocturnal sky, illustrating the full moon's landscape with its luxuriously impressive pigments, agitatedly marking their own territory with its different hue.
Shortly after purchasing her ticket for Waterbury to pay a visit to Sebastian in the last minute, within a half an hour the imminent train for the other part of Vermont forcefully fatigued the brunette and seating uneasily on one of the desolated wooden benches, bouncing her crossed legs lazily after dumping her jean-textured rucksack on her left, cozily escorting her as her youthfully spidery, bony olive-tanned fingers registered to work on the zip of one of the essential pockets to retrieve a medical book for distraction and killing her time during her pure impatience to behold her uncle again. Sebastian's despaired, godforsaken complexion, scintillatingly grimaced and baptized in an unholy despondence, dilapidating slowly but surely each pattern of mirth that once meaningfully apt to ornate his attributes and diminishing their healthy luster.
Little did the brunette know that the Italian compatriot would confront the trio that was replacing the manager of the flowerstore in Hartford's slums and most of all earn his unhallowed retribution for physically assaulting Cassandra and being on the verge of breaking a couple of bones of hers that constructed steadily her spine's anatomy. Martha didn't even know the capability of Andrea, Cassandra and Madeleine could outsmart the nefarious serial killer's older sibling and even having vicious intentions of granting him a madhouse to be his main home for now. It purely aroused and mischievously, stealthily tickled her real adrenaline and starkly iron-willed fury coursing flexibly into her veins and muscles to erupt her berserk humor to take a toll on her. In spite of her tremendously excessive adrenaline and ablaze wrath, the medical student's attempts to conceal any wee, dubious signs of her current humor were on the verge of exposure unless another provocative taunt caught her off guard.
Fortunately, the beehive of streetlamps populating almost every inch of the train station provided generously to the medical student the necessary light to examine in a scrutiny each paragraph, each sentence that was part of her recent progress of the book she's currently reading.
A pathetically, nevertheless, painfully hedonistic, pleasurable featherly-soft spring breeze blew her long mop of exquisitely flossy dark tresses and clothes along with its mild slap across the recently flipped pages of the medical book she's widely spread and a couple of fingers stabilizing the wobbling alabaster, flimsy sheets. Lowly droning under her breath with its melodiously hedonistic tunes tingled angelic hymns during her distraction and the silver-tongued, energetic song of the crickets, pitching the background along with the small crowd of people blatantly chattering, laughing, yelling or crying, whilst a straightforwardly stuffy smile permeated past her naturally roseate, plumpish lips.
"What are you reading, young lady?" The suddenness of a sinisterly somber, hoarse chuckle managed to startle her and her focus bulk utmost into the shadowed figure of the infamous psychopath, maintaining an adequately platonic, intimate proximity, gauged solely a handful of inches. The abruptness of the uninvited guest to her privacy was far cry from predictable phenomenon or rather disaster for the young lady, biting unintentionally her wet, strawberry-coloured tongue intimidatingly and hesitantly darting her coffee brown optics at the tall figure.
"There's a name of the book, imprinted on its cover." Lukewarm haughtiness erupted on her tongue tip after elaborating the medley of vowels and syllables' iron-willed construction of its retaliation, aimed to Cayden who removed his classy, pitch-black top hat for awhile, in order to manipulate his small, neatly trimmed fingernails to scratch his clammy head with its short mop of hoary strands, veiling his full, round profile. "You sound peculiarly strange. It's indescribable what kind of tone you're using aimed to me." Narrowing her pools of abysmally expressive coffee brown, the young woman inclined surreptitiously skeptical her thin, elegant eyebrow, lingering her delicate fingers to cradle the broadly spread book pages on which she was utterly focused at the moment.
"How funny, baby doll!" Another wryly woeful chuckle clicked the roof of the Italian compatriot's mouth, folding cold-bloodedly emphatic his bulky, muscular arms across his chest, objecting his friendliness, fiercely flaming his ablaze chocolate brown optics with sheer adrenaline and venomous thrist for revenge, whilst his daughter ushered her front ivory, still firm teeth to clamp its lower lip to be incessantly gnawed, opting to conceal her apprehension and intimidation in the face of the evil and pure darkness. "What are you doing here in the early evening in the train station with a book in your hands?"
"I'm not a little girl, dad! I'm just waiting for the train."
"That's it!" Wrenching widened her smoky quartz minerals when the Italian compatriot violently, emphatically impulsive, reigned by its magnifying adrenaline pumping into his veins and forcefully commanding him to be involved in automatically accomplishing unspeakably unbelievable things against his and his family's reputation in general, snatched the medical book from her grip, despite her blood-curdlingly indestructible attempts to not allow his sudden grapple deprive her from its item possession. "That's it, you little slut!" Afterward retrieving the medical book and scanning in a deftly fleet scrutiny for a split second with its intensifyingly bone-chilly pause suffocating the both adults and Martha lifted up her rear and straightened momentarily her posture from her own very seat to cross dramatically cold-hearted her arms, anticipating in front of Cayden's wicked, unpromising presence to get back one of her favorite books as if it bear a semblance of an impatient little girl, awaiting impatiently for her new toy, although her strictly remorseless parents. "You're the bare shame not only of my fucking family, but also of my fucking reputation!" Within every relentlessly sloppy cuss which his tongue stubbornly crafted, he charged the shut book and tossed it severely feisty at the top of her head, subsequently bare stoicism masked her youthfully appealing facial features in no time and trying her best to not demonstrate even the slightest, the most subtle sign of sore pain and agony.
"You're supposed to be freaking happy, not a particularly frustrated, dad!"
"Happy about what?" A ferociously antagonistic howl escorted affably in the company of serpentine hiss honed up his piercingly domineering, bloodthirsty glare, spearing her parchment, freshly young-looking complexion marching up to her to diminish the small scale of space they traded mutually and smack an aggressively furious slap across her well-carved, chubby cheek, followed by the soar heavy rain of twin fat tears glimmering onto her lower eyelids as her knees motionlessly brushed the cemented ground under the childishly inquisitive gazes of the passing horde of people, encircling the duo. "Happy about having an incestual relationship with my brother who's now in a mental hospital for criminally insane in the other part of Vermont? Be ashamed of yourself, you little fucking twat!" Charging his feet to kick relentlessly her bony ribcage didn't even bother to not taunt one of the strangers to participate categorically to aid the juvenile brunette to be on her feet. In the meanwhile, a rich map of plum bruises tinted hypodermically Martha's epidermis, accompanied gingerly by electrifying goosebumps. "It doesn't hurt for having such a huge impact on my emotionality,"A sharp exhale unloaded the middle-aged gentleman's muscly, bulky chest and stepping aisde within an inch to maintain an adequate distance with the humiliated young woman, earning the inquisitive stares of the strangers who were actual nobodies to her, howsoever, nobody having the nerve to join and confront the invicibility of the nefarious serial killer. "Does it?"
"Stop it!" Fashioning into wrathfully balled fists her elvish, bruised weatherered hands, stilling the meek tilt of her painfully throbbing head as she narrowed her black-eyed despondent gawk at the older man, having no intentions of having a physical detrimental impact on her father though his aggressive nature. "I love my uncle very much and in a single heart beat I would do anything for him."
"You know what, young lady? You're not part of my family," After his failed attempt to kick her again shortly after the nimbleness prominently aggravated her immobile stance with its flabbergasting dodge for farewell, a weak, cocksure smirk decorated the Italian compatriot's face. "You ain't also part of my responsibilities, but just an ugly, idiotic disgrace for everything I did for you and for your very being, Martha! Just swallow the fugly truth about the absolute reality before even thinking of moving on to accomplish a diplomatic forgiveness from me!"
Author's Note: What are your thoughts on Martha's pregnancy? Did you guess correctly who it could be her biological father? Does Sebastian, Cayden's older brother, deserves to be imprisoned in a mental hospital or rather Cayden deserves it way more?
Share with me your thoughts on the new chapter and the asked questions! Don't be shy! Moreover, I hope you liked and enjoyed this chapter! :)