Maybelyn is petrified for the rest of the week, finally finding out how Ryan, Elias and Cassidy were killed, and the death of her neighbour Carol.
It was the second day of the week only when Keturah went into detail, great, disgustingly great detail of the murders of Ryan, Elias and Cassidy, with Mitchell as an accomplice.
"...the angel was already out of the boy by the time we got to him, so he was actually present when we fried up his fingers in a bit of oil, and he even got to taste a bit of the oil too, involuntary naturally" Keturah shares with a sinister laugh.
"The father watched in utter horror as your son, the great artist, created a masterpiece out of the boy's insides! He was all strings and ribbons by the time Mitchell was done!" Keturah says grossly gleefully.
"Then, Mitch found me a new body, which you should be happy about, because I did what you said and got someone different!" Keturah says.
"I think her name is Alexandria. Oh was it a joy to be able to sever daddy's head off, and in his mind, he thought it was his little Cassidy who was frying her brother and helping a strange man murder him, and he thought it was his little Cassidy who was excitedly watching as that strange man also sawed his own head off, but he was very wrong, because right after their blood was spilled, I entered my new body, and let the little girl revere in what she thinks she had just done, and then use her for a wig and test your sons purée skills, and let me tell you, he proved quite the chef, and the onions, they still effect him, but he didn't shed a single tear with miss Cassidy" the demon says, and Maybelyn wishes she could escape, but there's no possible way of her getting out of this room, now, or ever really.
Maybelyn tries to focus on her feet, on the floor, the paint chipping on her nails, the floral trim on the baseboard of her desk, on anything to shut out the sound of Keturah's awful descriptions of the pure torture she had just put an innocent family through, and her son, the child she tried to raise, and the child she used to love, was now friends with a disgusting, ravaging demon who brings out the worst in Mitchell.
"Go make me some food" Mitchell commands and slaps his mother's shoulder rather roughly.
As much as she would like to get up and run out the door as fast as she can, Maybelyn knows life is precious and would never want to take that chance, because with a smart demon as his best friend, there is no way she'd escape and hide good enough, so instead settles to doing as she was told and going into the kitchen to make her son some food, and thank the deities above that the demon doesn't need to eat, which would be Maybelyn having to share her portion, and dying slowly, as opposed to running out the door and dying even slower; by torture.
So life proved to be a challenge every day that Keturah was living in Maybelyn's home, and taking customers had been more scarce due to the fact that Keturah and Mitchell have been killing them for kicks.
Later that week, just when Maybelyn had thought that Keturah would stop giving great detail on how she killed Ryan and his children, she suddenly switched to the topic of how she killed Carol, and by god, it was awful for Maybelyn to have to hear.
"That journal of your sons has proven to be quite useful, and I admire his organisation and notation on each of your customers, for example, miss Carol Terrace, she was quite the tragedy want she?" Keturah taunts.
"She, for some reason, had the sensation of finally trying to drive after however many years of not driving, cause of that little thing with her parents, which by the way, my daddy illustrated that, boy, is he a good planner, and really good at irony too!" Keturah proudly says.
"Like I was saying," she continues, "Carol decided to get in her husbands car, late at night last week, and she drove for a bit. Those minutes driving she felt like she was on top of the world, that is till she lost control, and ended up being stabbed through the stomach with the siding of the car, and then her leg getting cut off because it was crushed under the dashboard, and then her arm being cut open wide by the windshield that shattered, oh, and the agony she had to sit through for hours and hours, crying and screaming for help, till morning came and someone found her, but it was funny, because when the firefighters were cutting through the car to pull her out, their machine malfunctioned, and she was decapitated!" Keturah says and claps her hands.
"What a way to go? Am I right?! Of course, this was all planned, just a few tugs over here, a few pushes over there, an idea over here, a malfunction over there, and voilà! The masterpiece of Carol's freak accident death. Amazing, isn't it?" Keturah asks.
"You disgust me" Maybelyn spits.
"Do I? I thought you liked me for a minute there, you naïve woman, trusting a demon over an angel, shame on you, should've seen it coming" Keturah remarks.
"Take Mitchell and leave, just go somewhere else, I don't want you here anymore" Maybelyn tries to say confidently, but it comes out shakily.
"Really? You think that's going to work? And we're just going to up and leave? No, honey, we've still got work to do" Keturah says with an ignorance in her voice.
"Then I'll close the shop and you won't have anyone else you can kill!" Maybelyn counters.
"You will not close the shop, I mean, unless you want to end up like Ryan, Elias, or poor dear Cassidy. Take the hint, Maybelyn, I'm threatening you and there's nothing you can do about it" Keturah says haughtily and spins her hair on her finger.
"Please just stop killing my customers, they come here for my help and they trust me when they pour themselves out, and you're abusing their personal information just cause you are bloodthirsty?" Maybelyn begs.
"But that's the best part, hearing someone pour their pathetic little heart out, it's amusing, and then using it against them is fun, and I'm not just going to stop now, that would be ridiculous!" Keturah says and rolls her eyes.
Maybelyn doesn't quite know what to say after that, so she leaves the room to go upstairs to wrap up in a warm blanket and cry, as is her fashion lately.