I never expected to die like this. Montresor and I haven’t always gotten along, but this is drastic, even for my over-emotional friend. On the up side, if there is one, I have time to think over all of the events of my short successful life: the day I opened my first vineyard, where I met the lovely Mrs. Fortunato, the mother of my three beautiful children. I hope my death doesn’t hurt them; they should try to live on without me. I hope Montresor knows what’s coming for him, though. In half a century, the man will pay, and it won’t be pretty.
***
Montresor showed up just as I finished my eighth glass of wine. He mentioned he had purchased a cask of amontillado. I had hoped that I would be able to buy it off of him, but kept that piece of information to myself. After we descended down the steps to the catacombs under his mansion, he kept babbling about the walls and giving me wine. I gave him the motion of the masons, but the man did not understand. I accused him of not being a mason, but he jokingly showed me a trowel concealed under his cloak. Thinking it only a comedic gesture, I continued. By this point, I was suspicious of the vast amount of time we had spent underground.
“It’s just inside here!” We approached the opening, but all I saw were chains. Before I could react, Montresor had me locked to the stone. I watched in horror as he started walling up the opening, I was sure this was a joke, but he tells me otherwise.
“For the Love of god, Montresor!” I cry out.
“Yes, for the love of god!”
I let out a blood-curdling shriek and for a short moment, I saw compassion flash across my murder’s face, but it disappeared in an instant. He dropped the torch through the remaining crack in the wall and then sealed my fate with one last small brick.
By Rosalie
So Fortunato just died?
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