The next morning
12th of October, 1969

After Father McKenzie opened reluctantly his eyelids, protecting him from the dim light that illuminated his en-suite bedroom linked with his office through the compact window on the top of the wall, he gathered his discarded garments by changing himself from his pyjamas in his clerical attires.

Onc he finished with dressing up himself as he was neat, bodacious and revered as always, in spite of his endangered reputation and his notorious secrets and wrongdoings which would never let him to expiation and save his own soul from the searing, remorseless hell where he promptly belonged, he glimpsed at the clock that sat motionlessly on the night stand, scanning quickly the current time. It was "6:39am" in the morning.

"Ugh, I think I got up a bit later than the usual!" He thought to himself, grunting in low voice as he rubbed his head.

He was somewhat disappointed he got up with an hour later than the usual time as he mustered to wake and get up at 5:30am in the morning. Alexander pondered how he is going to flee Briarcliff as he resigns from his position by speaking to Father Malachi, subsequently carrying on his church activity as a priest.

Whilst he picked up his leather suitcase where he stored his baggage on his first day as a head of Briarcliff, the young priest was gathering every belonging of his and packing it in the suitcase as he opted to escape the authorities' claws in a matter of minutes and forget about the nightmare that swirled in his mind the night before.

As Father McKenzie was packing his luggage, all of a sudden he blinked as he sensed how his mind yielded a concussion as he recalled the explicit images from his nightmare. Then he clamped his mouth with his colossal hand, rolling eyes as he attempted to soothe his nerves efficiently, evading what his mind told him to do otherwise.

Alexander laid somewhere as its space was unknown. Unknown place to him.

He sensed a tight, coarse grip by the nape of his neck, lifting his head down as his face was inches away from the sheer, full of life water in the altar for christening. It wasn't by a man. The feminine, petite hand that grasped the back of his neck was more potent than his physical strength generally. He heard feminine voice growling in his ear.

"Wake up, sinner!" The unidentified woman evoked a snarling command as she slapped with her sole free hand his face, aversely opening his winter blue eyes.

Once he opened his eyes, the juvenile priest examined his surroundings as he felt powerless to halt the grasp as he looked up in horror at the oracle, who was dressed up in black lich priestess cassock, dropping down to her ankles as red stole wrapped around the nape of her neck, a chaplet. Her long chestnut hair dropped down to her chest. Her glaring hazel eyes were darted to his deluded face.

"Sally? The heck are you doing?" Father McKenzie inquired quizzically, impulsively as he realized he wore nothing else than his plain white boxers.

Without warning, another slap smacked across his face as his fingers brushed lightly his slapped spot on his cheek, eschewing to gasp in faint pain. Ms.Whigham stilled her glare on the man who raped her four years ago and threw her like garbage. In the interim, a mischievous smirk distorted across her plump, naturally rosy-coloured lips, befitting her slightly olive complexion.

"Language, Father Alexander Stanley...McKenzie!" She paused as she pronounced dramatically his name as it instantly capitulated him, gritted firmly his teeth. Sally's caution was from civilized as her hazel eyes reflected her undeniable ire, loath and scorn she had for the man of the cloth, hence, avenging for his unreciprocated redemption which he doesn't deserves at all. "I haven't known how such a selfish, aloof, revered man of the cloth..." Alexander swallowed a heavy lump in his throat, scarcely daring to confront one of the women, who was not only physically potent, moreover she has magic spells since she was an oracle. "...could swear like a drayman. Ha?"

"What are you supposed to do with me?" He ignored her words which incensed the young lady evener though her smirk lingered on her face.

"What am I supposed to do with you? The question is simple, Monsignor!" She surveyed his face as she was essentially focused on his mimics which rendered her to burst out laughing from the top of her throat as her bile was in her stomach yet. "I will baptize you." The brunette flouting him relentlessly. "You need to be purified from some things which are pressumed to be your ounce."

"No, please!" Afterwards she rebelliously buried his face in the water as her grasp yileded like a dead weight, unable to rescue himself from drowning. Furthermore, she overlooked the juvenile priest's plea.

"I baptize you in the name of Father, Son and Holy Spirit...in the name of your compulsive lies, your peculiar hypocrisy...in the name of your wrongdoings, your crimes, your deeds...your sins...your broken vows,"

Whereas the odd oracle woman didn't allow the man to escape her vicious claws, he gobbled gradually immense, mortal quantity of water, swallowing it as he bewailed for aid. Although Alexander was trapped by her. His rape victim, who was wreaking him right now. Returning his "favor".

"Aaaarggggg!" The light haired man kept on inaugurating as his sapphire blue eyes were widely opened in mortifying panic.

Whilst Father McKenzie was being tortured, on the contrary Sally relished its extraordinary moment. She liked the sight of torment, agony and pain. Especially imprinted on Father McKenzie's face. The more agony he yielded, more rejoice.

"...in the name of your hidden secrets! Be blessed with the fate that is destined to afflict you for the rest of your days, Father!" Meanwhile the priest struggled in the young woman's neck grasp like a caught mouse in a mousetrap. His protests were mightless unlike the greater strength that Sally got over her prey."Amen!" Then she released from her grip Alexander as his corpse flumped on the floor like a wounded bird, hitting his face in the christening's altar as his nose commenced bleeding and bleeding. Thick, bright, vague velvet blood streaming down his nostrils.

Sally couldn't help as she emitted a wicked chuckle that jolted up the small, local church.

Then he blinked... just blinked as he realized he was recalling the memories he got from the last night in his slumber. Alexander wanted to come to his senses, muttering to himself:

"Come on, wake up!"

When he finished with packing the rest of his luggage, the young priest left his office as soon as possible through the profound, dim lit hallway of the madhouse, opting to not being spotted either by an inmate or a staff employer.

As soon as he established outside, scarcely being caught by anyone with a left track of himself inside the demolishing, old building, he glanced for last time back at the facade as he rambled up to his 60s style car. Alexander's glance at the madhouse was for farewell, seconds before unlocking the vehicle, getting inside and drives away as far as he could as the first thing was to drive to the church and consulting with Father Malachi about leaving his highest post in the mental hospital. His tender nostrils inhaled the countryside's relaxing, sheer air.

***

"Father, understand me I cannot run this facility anymore!" Alexander insisted persistently as he played uneasily with his fingers as he seated against the elder priest's dark wood desk. His palish face radiated rather agitation and grotesque reluctance.

"I comprehend your motives, dear child! But what made you to change your decision incontinently?" The elder priest enquired diplomatically, eyeing emotionlessly the younger man of the cloth's azure blue eyes. Their faces grimaced as they frowned.

"This responsibility to supervise mentally ill patients who have lost their path to God is just..." The younger man paused as he inhaled self-consciously. "...is a bit too much for me. You understand my fragile age, however, I realized I am not stable enough to handle such wretched souls, for sadly." Alexander lied as his irrational reason to flee Briarcliff's administration position attempted to justify his transgressions.

"Well, Briarcliff isn't a kindergaten. It's a responsibility for grave and diligent people who are capable of handling lunatics!" Father Malachi noted something different in his protège though Father McKenzie tried to hide his sins. "It seems you haven't matured enough to survive such extreme conditions." He furthered seriously.

He just nodded his head in agreement, affirming his words without further arguing and dramas. The juvenile priest hesitated if he should inform his tutor about Lana and their friends.

"Father, we have an issue!"

"What's the problem?"

"Lana exposed Briarcliff the day before and not only she exposed the facility, but also she mentioned about me including facts behind my past and my actions."

"Oh!" Malachi sighed uncertainly as he arched an eyebrow in perplexion. "What your past and your actions have to do with exposing the mental institution, child?" 

"Urm," Father McKenzie pursed his lips as he licked them instinctively, sensing turmoil cooking inside him. "...I am just mentioning it because she has no right to talk about my past and personal life as she speculated."

"Don't be that specific, Alexander! We all know what you did as a head of Briarcliff for these four years to be exact!" Father McKenzie was beyond dumbfound when he heard the elder priest's words, teetering whether if he was disappointed, factly, his eye contact and speech were ironically inexpressive. "You ruined thousands of lives of former nuns, sanitarians, security guards and patients. Even you bluntly toyed with one of the former security guards who isn't part of Briarcliff's responsiblity anymore. Frank McCann!" The much older man carried on as he abided exigently serious and negotiating.

In the meantime, Alexander just sighed disgruntled, conforming with the situation as he was in front of a revered, senior man of the cloth who hadn't exactly time for games and cock-and-bull stories. 

"Father, he was released from Briarcliff without my direct permission. Without signing a single document for his release!" Likewise, Malachi gasped unamused as he wasn't astound by the concept how the former cop was rescued from the nuthouse's dull, lifeless walls. "Just guess who helped him!"

"Who it could be this intruder?" Father Malachi questioned as he scratched an eyebrow quizzically. "I shall know."

"Your favorite former priest Howard and his favorite former tramp." The younger man replied with a smug smirk, distorting on his face. "They were! And do ya know what else, Father?"

Father Malachi wasn't amused by the fact that Frank was rescued by Jude and Timothy as he has never liked the former promiscuous nightclub singer since she was clinged to the slightly younger ex-monsignor and their bond tautened, besides her past. Furthermore, the elder priest wondered what awaited him to slug his face with a pending surprise.

"Whether who did it, Leigh Emerson, the murderous Santa Claus was shot and stabbed with a pocket knife."

Hush fell between the both men as Father Malachi couldn't believe what the both former monsignor and sister of the church did to two both former inmates as the first one was rescued safe and sound whilst the second one murdered. He had always respected Timothy and Jude though he disliked the former priest's right hand. Unless silence was broken at last.

"I am going to sue the Howards and Lana since I am persuaded they will have something agaisnt me." Then he chuckled sarcastically. "And I think I am going to deal by myself with these three. Even Frank who is with them, reckoning them four."

"Don't be too pessimistic, Alexander! I am going to team with you. You have my support!"

Alexander couldn't suppress a growing rapidly pixy grin, lighting up his face.

"I would truly appreciate your support if you say so...Father! I am honored!"

Eventually Father McKenzie figured out he isn't alone against the Howards, Lana and Frank as he has a team player, who would ensure his immense support for the juvenile priest. 

***

It has been a busy day for the aspiring, persistent journalist Lana as she was sitting in her dim lit office, recently focused on writing one of her new articles about Father McKenzie how he leaves Briarcliff's administrator post. The middle aged reporter wanted to dig out the pettiest information about the hypocrite whose morals were far from acceptable. 

Whilst she was typing on the writing machine the article before being published formally and spread in the entire state, a door tap didn't snap her out of the writing process as she just exclaimed:

"Yes?"

The door opened as one of her female colleagues named Alice entered in Lana's office with a cup of coffee as she was being ordered by the brunette to deliver her within minutes. 

"Oh Alice!" Lana evoked as she halted to type on the writing machine, casting an amiable eyeing on her slightly younger colleague who handed her forthwith the cup of coffee. "Thank you!"

"No need to thank me, Lana!" She smiled genuinely as she stood mousily against the journalist's light wood desk. "You can rely on me anytime, you know!"

In the interim, Lana gestured with an index finger there's an impending response after she sips her hot caffeine beverage. As she felt the hot caffeine beverage gushing down in her body, burning the corners of her mouth like firecracker. Then she placed the cup of coffee on her desk apart, sympathetically eyeing the younger lady beside her.

"I know. This coffee is so good, ya know!"

"Of course!" Alice responded humbly, a sheepish smile honing on her plump, rubicund lips. "That's why I brought it specially for you, Lana!"

Instead of answering, Lana just smiled modestly, totally girlishly as she kept on with writing the article.

"Whatcha yar writing?"

"An article about Father McKenzie!" The brunette responded boldly as she took another sip of her coffee.

"Oh! About this driveller?" The blonde sighed as she looked down at Lana's chestnut brown eyes. 

"Why not? Since I exposed his atrocities, his deepest secrets and most of all, Briarcliff." 

"You are brilliant woman, Lana! Ya know?" The both women couldn't oppress a content, caustic cackle along. 

"Thank you, Alice! You have been so kind since you arrived there." The middle aged single mother accepted her colleague's compliment with a smug grin, consequently getting back to work. Little did she know when her patience will erupt, factly, she yearned to behold the Boston citizens' not only mortified, further, execrating even more Father McKenzie. 

To be continued...