The Horror You Inspire

The days changed like you wouldn't believe.
When he was here, the grass was green, the flowers were pink, & the night was so bright.
Life had sunshine & smiles, and all those things us pessimist's despise.
Home wasn't like it used to be, because a house was never home, & he was never really planted like the flowers that lead up to their house.
He was home, and anywhere they went, as long as they were together, they were home.
There is, in fact, no place like it.
After he died, everything suddenly lost taste, like he had taken it with him.
So, she had to become friendly with the darkness and all sorts of scum, like the sewer rats & the Venus fly traps that she thought sometimes talked to her.
She had become comfortably numb.
All the animals spoke highly of him, and they only really fear the Seventh Son, his offspring.
It wasn't quite prophecy, but his rage & evil were predicted not long ago; regardless, she ignored it for as long as she could, because ignorance is bliss, right?


11. Chapter 10

Maybelyn panics the whole week because of her son, knowing he will try to kill Ryan because he knows, but she has no way of warning him solely on the fact that Mitchell tore her landline desk phone from it's plug and destroyed it. 

Maybelyn even tries to put a client in a sleep trance to steal her phone and call Ryan, but she could feel the presence of her son, and wouldn't dare such a trick. 

Being cut off from all contact to anyone outside, Maybelyn never knows what Mitchell is doing when he leaves, and Ryan's status. 

But she gets her answer when someone comes in, shortly followed by Mitchell. 

Mitchell stalks off to his room, while the younger girl lingers with a devilish grin, which considering is an actual devil, is a lot more devilish than usual. 

"Remember me?" The girl asks, and immediately Maybelyn recognises the voice as Keturah. 

"Where are Ryan, Elias and Cassidy?" Maybelyn demands. 

"...dead!" Keturah says and laughs haughtily. 

Maybelyn sits at her desk and starts to cry, feeling failed, and doubly failed because her son is the fault of all of this. 

"Why? I thought you said you were on a specific mission, and you weren't what Hilkiah said you were!" Maybelyn shouts through tears. 

Keturah laughs, haughtily explaining 
"They were in my way, and Mitch, here, is a great engineering mechanic with torture devices, so I couldn't pass up such a rich opportunity for such a divine taste of true evil. Hell is nice and all that, but the real evil isn't downstairs, my dear, the real evil is inside of you, and in this girl, and your son, and when you express that evil, it comes out so much more graphic than any demon downstairs can illustrate, and Mitchell, he's special. He's got that right kick, one that evil is divine, and the evil in his heart could even. kill. you."

Maybelyn shakes in fear, but tries to hold her confidence because she knows she needs to. 

"But you're still quite useful, so he'll keep you around a bit longer... I think" Keturah says and walks out. 

A customer drives up in a '67 barracuda and parks right in the grass, blasting music and leaving the windows open as she comes inside. 

Mitchell and the girl are in Mitchell's room so Maybelyn tries not to worry about them, and will try to find out about Ryan and his children later. 

The customer comes in, grandly making an entrance with her big black boots, tight jeans, concealed carry, various military gear, a lot of leather, and a dark but not evil sense inside her, radiating confidence. 

"Come in and take a seat" Maybelyn says to the customer in the hall.

As she comes in Maybelyn takes a minute to assess her, and she senses a strong sense of wholeness, so Maybelyn wonders why she's here.

"My name is Maybelyn, What would you like for me to do for you today?" Maybelyn asks as she sits. 

"What do you do?" The girl asks. 

"A Ouija session to talk to a spirit of someone who has passed, a look at your future through the crystal ball, a tarot card reading, a palm reading, tea leaf reading, or a fear evaluation" Maybelyn lists. 

She leans back in her chair in thought, and stretches her legs out, and says "palm reading."

"I'm going to need you to put your writing hand on the desk, please" Maybelyn says. 

She rolls her eyes and sits up, laying her left hand on the table. 

"Can you remove your rings, please" Maybelyn says. 

She rolls her eyes again but obliges, and Maybelyn goes to work, reading her calloused hand and fingertips with burned off prints. 

Maybelyn tries to take longer than usual because she feels her son enter the dark corner, and doesn't want him to know she knows he's here, but she does want to hurry this up to keep the girl safe. 

"You have faced great peril in your life which has caused you to be overly defensive, and do compulsive things like cover your body in tattoos, burn your fingerprints off, and be overly confident and outright brash" Maybelyn says. 

The girl leans back in her chair, crossing her arms in observation. 

"And?" She asks. 

"The dirt under your nails and the various small scars say you're a hard worker, and your pulse shows you're calm, so i am having a hard time picking up just exactly what you're here for, what you're afraid of..." Maybelyn admits. 

The girl scoffs and grins, saying "that's because I'm not afraid of anything." 

"Well, that's impossible, you have to be afraid of something, I'm just having a hard time sensing it" Maybelyn argues. 

"You said you have a fear evaluation, let's do that" the girl suggests. 

"I'm going to put you in a sleep trance and search your mind for fear, all you need to do is give me your left hand" Maybelyn says, so the girl obliges. 

Maybelyn traces a pattern on the lines of the girl's hand and immediately she slumps over in her chair. 

Maybelyn searches inside her head for any trace of fear, and can't believe she comes out with nothing. 

Maybelyn doesn't want to end her career in mystical consulting, although this is proof she is getting weak, but instead of giving up, she searches again inside the girl's head. 

Anger is fierce, strength is mighty, rest is scarce and just as before, there is no trace of fear. 

A famous general once said, "let her sleep, for when she wakes, she will move mountains." 

So that's what Maybelyn does, she let's her customer sleep, which is unusual, but this specific customer does need some sleep, because those bags under her eyes definitely aren't designer. 

Mitchell chose the wrong time to come out of the dark, and almost woke the customer in his ignorance. 

"She's lying, she's got to be afraid of something" he demands. 

"I evaluated her twice, searched her whole mind, and there is nothing" Maybelyn admits. 

"Check again" he commands. 

Maybelyn obeys and touches the customer's forehead and searches for the scent of fear, hoping she'll find something so Mitchell won't have a reason to want to kill this one too. 

"Nothing. Trust me I want to find something as much as you want me to, but there's nothing. No family, no friends, no lovers, no pets, no weakness, no frailty, no innocence, nothing" Maybelyn admits with a sigh of defeat. 

"Well wake her up and get her out of here" Mitchell says and walks back into the darkness. 

Maybelyn wakes the girl and says "you're right, you are fearless, and for that, my dear, I salute your bravery, and admire your confidence that everyone wishes they had."

The girl just nods in contempt and calls as she leaves "see you soon" slamming the door and pulling her car off the grass, loud music blasting just as before and all sense of confidence gone with her. 

"You're losing your touch, woman" Mitchell says evilly from the corner. 

"I searched three times, there was nothing" she clarifies. 

"No, you're just losing your touch" he replies and leaves the room. 

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