Chapter 3: Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater

Peter, Peter, pumpkin-eater,

Had a wife and couldn't keep her;

He put her in a pumpkin shell,

And there he kept her very well


The fact that Artlert's guests liked to be fashionably late was entirely fiction. They were, on the contrary, rather punctual. Save for their delayed arrival into the exciting walled country. Armin, however, was not surprised. He knew them to be punctual and prepared himself accordingly. And it was only his knowledge of their habits (that he had acquired due to his three-month stay with them during his training as an apprentice judge in Aidin.) that made him ask Chryseis if she would like to watch the TV during their dinner.

To this she replied, "Yes, thank you." And took the remote. She surfed through the news channel before stopping at one that flashed the headline – "Macavity – the macabre devil." The three pairs of eyes watched the electric blue haired anchor as he spoke – "Welcome to Attack on the news and I am your reporter – Ernald Warmheart." Chryseis closely surveyed the Youngman on screen. He had his left eye well hidden beneath the long bands. She noticed that his hair was tied into a tiny ponytail at the back.

"Nice style." Wyse commented and then proceeded to help Armin, who was serving the dishes.

"Today, we will have a recap of the Macavity mystery."

"That'd be helpful." Chryseis stuffed a piece of potato into her mouth and continued to stare at the screen.

"It all began on 22nd September, Monday. The body of Camille Corringham was found inside a pumpkin in her own backyard."

"Yeesh. Must be one hell of a pumpkin." The picture of a beautiful pumpkin yard popped up beside the anchor.

"The body was so badly hacked that if the defense and welfare legion hadn't found the head in another pumpkin, nobody could have recognized the victim on the spot. The peculiar thing about this crime is not only its atrocity but also the rhyme that accompanied it." The image of a note on a misshapen pumpkin came up accompanied by a background song of - Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater. "The neighbors swear that there wasn't a sound of any such violence and they didn't see anybody come in the yard either." At this point, a blurred image of came up. It was a very faded, but one could still tell that it was a picture of hacked limbs placed in carved pumpkins.

And before the anchor could delve into the innumerable possibilities and details of the murder. Wyse switched off the TV. Chryseis looked at Wyse.

"I believe those are rather improper things to look at while eating dinner. They aren't going to help our digestion, you know. " Wyse said and began eating. Chryseis did the same and found that the images had indeed ruined his appetite

The dinner finished faste4r than anybody expected. It was either that everybody ate quicker than usual or that everybody ate less than usual. Armin agreed with the latter as he packed the leftovers and stuffed them in the fridge. He glanced at Chryseis and saw her cleaning the dishes. Her expression and tuneless humming suggested nothing of a person who ought to be upset after watching the news. The boy turned to look at Wyse and found him in a chair with his phone in his hand. As Armin speculated further, he heard Chryseis declare, "I'm done."

She came over to Wyse and wiped her hands on her skirt. (She never cared much for aprons.) Chryseis peeked over his shoulder and read. "Bodies charred to death in Macavity plane crash."

"Painful undoubtedly." Wyse said and skimmed through the article

"Did they find anything new from the black box?" "Not really."

"No survivors?"

"None."

"What happened to ship Bankur?" Armin asked this.

Wyse pulled up another article, skimmed through it and replied, "They saved it, alright."

"The passengers are safe in their houses then?"

"Yes."

"You ought to have some rest," Chryseis said suddenly.

"Me?"

"Aye."

"I will," Armin got up. "As soon as I've locked the doors."

"Of course," Chryseis followed Armin into the hallway. "Only close it after us."

"Pardon?" the boy watched her go to the door in front of him.

"Lock the door after we have gone out." He heard Wyse say and immediately stepped aside to let the tall man pass. He noticed he had pinned his drape and was carrying a radio with him. Perhaps he had gone to his room and came back. "We have got business to deal with."

"At nine in the night?"

"Rather inconvenient, isn't it?" the girl pulled on her orange and green striped waistcoat and took the radio from Wyse's hands. "Don't stay up."

"When will you be back?" he watched her put on her loud cap.

"Soon." Chryseis said and was out the house with Wyse.

Only she didn't realize that she won't be back. At least, not anytime soon.


Author's note:

Sorry for the late update. I had written this chapter, but it needed rewriting so it came late. And of course, I must also apologize for the little SnK troll there. And special thanks to forschia for her invaluable advice regarding the making and explaining of this chapter. I hope I haven't left any loose ends.

Oh! And I have renamed the scouting legion. And just in case you couldn't tell the same day from chapter – 1 is continuing.