Fiona returns to her room with a plate full of fried chicken that she wafts under Madame LaLaurie's nose before grudgingly complimenting Cordelia's cooking and wondering if Madame LaLaurie even needs to eat. She also mentions the length of time Madame LaLaurie was in the ground, whereupon Madame LaLaurie starts making noises, so Fiona removes her gag and Madame LaLaurie (I'm going to have to drop the "Madame"; it's getting too cumbersome) asks her how long she said? Fiona repeats that it was 180 years, and the renewed hatred LaLaurie feels seems to ground her as she seethes, "That evil bitch." Fiona asks who did it to her, adding that the story was that she was poisoned but that was obviously erroneous, and LaLaurie blames "that black devil."
After a couple quick shots we saw last week, the last of which is LaLaurie falling to the floor, we see her regain consciousness, it now being night. Groggily, she sits up and calls for her husband, but it's Marie that answers from outside; she's standing with a group of torch-wielding allies in front of the house. LaLaurie makes her appearance quickly enough, stepping out into the street and asking if Marie thinks she and "this rabble" can frighten her, and it seems clear this kind of confidence could only come from extreme racism, so her following up by calling Marie "[n-word] witch" in pointing out that her poisoning attempt failed is probably overkill, although given what happens later Marie might be just as offended by the "witch" part. Marie replies that if she wanted LaLaurie dead, she would be, and the extra layer of meaning given the immortality given is fairly delicious, as if the response when LaLaurie orders Marie to return her family to her: "They never left." She theatrically points up and to her right, and when LaLaurie's eyes follow, she sees her husband and three daughters all hanged and collapses in grief. Two of Marie's men then haul LaLaurie back to her feet, whereupon Marie comes in close and grabs her face: "Don't think that they didn't suffer, because they did, greatly. But the fate that I have planned for you will make their suffering seem as a gentle sleep." Scared yet, LaLaurie? I mean, I hate you and I'm still kind of scared for you.
Marie tells LaLaurie she gave her life everlasting before crying out to the crowd to bring her, and just like that, LaLaurie is being shoved into the coffin as Marie finishes up: "For your sins, Madame LaLaurie [I can't escape it completely], you are damned to live forever; to never know the release of sweet death, to never reunite with your loved ones in the realm beyond but instead to be alone, sealed up in your unmarked grave for all eternity, listening to the world go on around you even until that world is no more." On top of the voodoo, lady knows how to pronounce a good sentence. I'd like to bring her along to intimidate people in my neighborhood who do terrible parking jobs. The coffin lid is closed, and the clock starts ticking off nearly two centuries.