Unholy Atonement

Darkness

Once the sinners set a foot in the purgatory, what actually awaits them? An adventure by choosing between heavenly heaven with its sacred ending of their eternal ethereal souls or otherwise agonize by dwelling in the depths of the scorching hell with its demons, anticipating the recently arrived sinner in his new home.

What's the destiny of a person especially a former inhabitant of the mortal world, who wasn't actually a saint?

An ex-man of the cloth, known for his celibacy, blinding, lunatic divine Rome dream once he shared with his cryptical love interest who had intense, discreet love feelings for him by the way she smiled to him, nurtured him and shared such pieces of prominent, sweet moments together, pictured in their coq-au-vin Friday night dinners as usually. Nevertheless, the reason for his unholyness was not only the demon's violation towards him by depriving his virtue as it resembled temporal gold dust in the vacuum, but also his false promises to the love of his life who was in center of his mind even seconds before committing suicide as his remorses resurfaced in his mingled, hectic mind behind Briarcliff's investigation, Dr.Arden's mysteriously disappeared patients and most of all, Jude.

His Jude. Once he had by his side as his own chosen right hand, calling her proudly, encouragingly a rara avis. His rare bird. Thanks to her foes, the rare bird lost its value in his own scintillated chocolate brown eyes. Scintillated by Dr.Arden, once their favorite young nun and the serial killer, known the best as murderous Santa Claus Leigh Emerson's pretty, sweet lies as they lingered as lights on his eyelids, blocking his view in front of the ugly truth which Jude has incessantly told him and was even telling him. Not only he imprisoned her in the asylum where they shared dreams along, further, his ego and Rome dream were his salvation from the truth, she has already told as if it's a whisper in the barren desert. As soon as he was no longer in Boston and Briarcliff was being sold to the state, hence, he didn't keep his wits about the woman, who played a major role in his remorses. Years later when Lana's return finished him with Briarcliff's investigation and the unanswered questions behind the sadism towards patients took its place in Briarcliff once, he did have limited opportunities. Hesitating between accepting the relentless, criminal consequences of his actions and deeds and probably return for the love of his life or otherwise his salvation by ending his life in the bloodiest way, leaving lack of tracks behind its unsolved mysteries of the investigation. Due to his apprehension, consequently he has chosen to slit his wrists by finding the best solution for concluding his bland, full of hazards life.

His palms caressed profligatingly stones as he felt something underneath his mammoth hands something solider than cotton. Even worse. He just laid on his stomach as laxly shut his eyelids like blinds. His motionless baby pinkish lips didn't move a single muscle even motion. Dim breeze played even fondled his chestnut hair as if his lover was stroking gingerly his hair by pleasuring him. Little did he know where's his current location after dying in the bathroom by slitting his wrists in the face of God's judgmental glares.

Well, the former man of the cloth, felt nothing. Neither a rough headache. Nor anything else. It was oblivious for him when it was the last time when pain has swept his organs even muscles and body. Even when the juvenile holy man slit his wrists, the last thing he can recall was actually contemplating spurting thick, marvelous blood of his slashed wrists, feeling no pain. Feeling almost nothing but the gore pooling his feet as if a sculpture was standing on the marble floor in immobile manner. His eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling the shame gnawing him even eating him alive without averting his eyes from the ceiling for a single second, in fact, he didn't want to witness his gradual downfall, losing insane quantity of blood.

As soon as Timothy came to his senses, he set free an unwilling gasp by opening his eyes as his vision appeared initially blurry until he rubbed with his fists his drowsy eyelids, waking up from the death's coma.