The Poems of Insanity - Chapter XIV: A Good Mystery

Chapter XIV: A Good Mystery

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Poète emerged from the hallway followed by an exasperated Vide and a confused Personne.

“Where are we going?!”

Vide hissed, arching her eyebrows.

“I have someone for you guys to meet.”

Poète replied hastily.

“Are they nice?”

Personne chirped.

Poète paused for a moment, contemplating Personne’s question.

“We’ll see.”

He murmured.

“Petit Shakespeare-”

Vide started to warn, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder.

Poète walked out of the hall.

“Just… be polite?”

Vide pursed her lips, folding her fingers down around her thumb.

“Alright… if you insist.”

She hissed, reluctantly following him.

“Oh goodnesses…”

Personne sighed, shaking his head and trotting after Vide.

Poète slid into the sitting room, a smile suddenly fixed on his face.

“Fidèle, these are my friends, Vide and Personne.”

“This is more of a reintroduction than a meeting-”

Vide started to mutter.

“Hello!”

Personne interrupted, waving enthusiastically.

Vide slowly turned her head, glaring at Personne out of the corner of her eye.

“Seriously?”

She growled.

“Oh goodnesses no!”

Personne exclaimed, folding his hands.

“Seriousness is so… depressing! I prefer…”

He said, lifting his right hand and gesturing in small flowing motions.

“Genuinely… or… comically.”

He glanced up at her, pleased with himself.

“Mon Dieu…”

Vide grumbled, rubbing her temples.

Fidèle forced a chuckle, smiling stiffly.

“Poète… you must be joking.”

Personne froze, his smile fading.

Vide looked up slightly, her eyes flicking to Fidèle.

Poète tilted his head to the left.

“Oh dear… I don’t understand.”

He said, his voice cracking.

“I thought you’d like to meet them.”

Fidèle stepped closer.

“Poe… are you… alright?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you feeling well?”

Poète’s eyes flicked up and to the right for a moment.

“Physically yes… mentally… oh dear…”149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE6lnqqBaT1
He laughed.

“Who knows?”

“Poète-”149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL6WTMf9POL
“Oh dear! I do love a good mystery! Isn’t it entertaining?”

Personne giggled behind his hand.

Vide hung her head, covering her empty eyes.

After a long moment of silence Poète clapped his hands together decisively, his eyes wide and sharp like the grin on his scarred face.

“Oh dear! Look at me rambling on and on about myself! Pardon my manners. Would you like tea, Mademoiselle?”

Fidèle cleared her throat not wanting to be impolite.

“Uh… I suppose?”

She glanced over at the kitchen and covered her mouth with her hand to keep from gasping.

Piles of plates and cups had accumulated in two spots on the kitchen table.

In front of two, dust covered chairs.

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