literature

A cask of amantillado 2

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A Cask of Amontillado II
Aftermath
By Doggida Blue

I was quite happy with the results of my work, and everything seemed to be going well. Then the police came. It was quite rude of them to interrupt my dinner, but they did.
“Excuse me, sir. We have been looking for a man who goes by the name of Fortunato. A local harlot said she saw you take him somewhere, and that’s the last we heard. We were wondering if you knew where he was”
My fear lasted only a second. That despicable fool Fortunato would be dead by now, and was perfectly concealed.
“Of course good sirs,” I said in mock concern “I do remember taking him to the vaults to test some drinks. You see, I was offered a pipe of Amontillado from a merchant; and as you well know, Fortunato is famous for being a connoisseur of drinks. It, however, turned out to be only sherry.”
“Well then, we infer that you won’t mind taking us down to these vaults.” They replied.
“Of course, good sirs.” And at that, I began to lead them down to the vaults. I could have led them to a different section, but I instead led them on the real path, if only for the self-satisfaction of my work. As we reached the end of the path, I began to speak.
“Here is where we tried the Amontillado; but in my rage at being fooled, I threw it away. Quite embarrassing, but Fortunato said he wouldn’t tell a soul. You see…”
At this point I realized that my tale was being completely ignored. I followed their line of sight, and saw it.
“How did that get there?” I asked myself, pretending to laugh.
“Yes,” said one of the policeman mockingly “just how did a trowel covered with wet mortar get there?” At this, he pulled out his sword and pointed it at my chest. I, of course, had hung up my sword when I went to dinner. The other policeman began to test the walls. Thinking fast, I pretended to be enraged.
“How dare you disturb the resting place of my ancestors!” I raged, “You will pay for this.” The policeman’s sword crawled up to my neck and pressed itself there. I fell to silence.
“Hey, this stone is loose,” Said the searching policeman. “And so is this one.” He began to remove brick after brick. Of course! It was so damp down here that the mortar would stay wet for a very long time. How could I have forgotten? Beads of sweat began to course down my face. I prayed that they might not make a big enough hole to get through.
But what at first would have only fit a cat had now grown to something a man could fit through.
“You first my good friend.” Said the policeman. He guided me over to the hole and made me crouch through it. Following with a sword at my back and a lantern in his hand.
“I can explain…” I began to say, but stopped short.

The room was empty.

All that was left was a chain hanging by a staple. It took me only a few seconds to get a grip of myself. “As you can see, my good sir, that I am innocent. I have been interrupted of my dinner, I have been threatened with a sword, and I have been forced to watch the defilement of one of my ancestor’s supposed graves. I hope now that you will leave, or I shall be forced to report you.”
“Of course, sir, sorry to have bothered you.” Said the policeman quickly. “We shall depart now, and we hope you will enjoy your dinner. We began our long ascent through the vaults. Just as we were emerging to the first floor, I thought I heard a faint tinkling of bells and a quiet laugh. I started for a second, but it went unnoticed from the police. I showed them out the door without further ado, my face now a mask. As soon as the door closed I ran and grabbed my rapier. I closed and locked the door to the vaults; then began to reflect upon the situation.
It was obvious that Fortunato must have broken free of the staples, and then pushed the bricks out. I cursed myself for forgetting about how damp it was. But now what was he going to do. I had locked the sole door to the vaults, and it was reinforced iron. Nobody could get through that. Also there was no food down there except wine. He could not possibly sustain himself on wine.
At that I was content, and decided to retire early. I slept quite well, still keeping the rapier at my side. The next day I woke up quite content. I went on to enjoy my day at the carnival. I had managed to rectify my mistakes; in my relief, I enjoyed myself with an unnatural fervor. For about a week I spent almost no time at home, enjoying more drink in that time than I had in the previous month.
On the last night of the carnival, I went to bed early. I had not been feeling myself lately and I decided that some sleep would fix it. I was, however, so drunk it took me quite a while to find my bed. My sleep was troubled; and in it I dreamed Fortunato had visited me. He was perched at the foot of my bed, staring at me intently. I woke up later in the middle of the night, and felt quite drowsy. I was about to go back to sleep, when something caught my eye.
Resting at the foot of my bed was a small cask of some drink, and Fortunato’s conical hat. I did not have to taste the cask to know it was Amontillado. I knew that we had never actually had Amontillado. This would have to mean he was getting out somehow.
Then it occurred to me that he might be bluffing. That it might just be a different drink. There was no longer a doubt in my mind that Fortunato was alive. All the same I felt that I needed to prove him wrong; that if I did, this would all just go away, and be nothing more than a dream. I lifted the cask to my lips and drank.

It was Amontillado.

I immediately grabbed the lantern by my bed and my rapier, which was the only article of clothing I had bothered to remove before I fell victim to sleep. I no longer felt tired. I didn’t even feel the least bit of fear. All I felt was pure anger, washing over me in blood red waves.
How dare he! How dare he ruin my plan! How dare he escape my vengeance! He had insulted me twice now, and I wouldn’t let him get away with it a second time. This time retribution would be swift and permanent. He couldn’t get out with a rapier sticking through his chest.
This thought made me smile. I would put this cask of Amontillado on his grave at his funeral next week. I would say he was a good friend, and a virtuoso of wine. I would keep the hat for myself, as a memoir. I jingled the bells lightly, and then departed for the vaults.
When I reached the door, I threw it open. It was only later that I realized it was unlocked.
“Hello, my good man Fortunato, I wanted to congratulate you on your success in escaping me, and to let you know that you shall not escape a second time as long as I draw breath.” I waited for a response, and when I heard nothing, I began again, descending down the stairs. It felt like descending into the depths of hell.
“I know that you can hear me, Fortunato. Why not show yourself, maybe we shall hold palaver ‘for you die.” At this I had reached the bottom stair, and listened intently.
At first I heard nothing, but then I thought I heard something. It sounded faintly like a cough. I smiled to myself and began to move slowly and quietly in that direction. For minutes that seemed like hours I listened, but heard nothing.
But then in a sound so loud it shocked me, the door behind me slammed shut. It sounded like the sealing of my doom. I raced back up to the door.

It was locked.

I suddenly wished I had taken the time fully explore these ancient vaults. Instead I had only taken enough time to find a suitable place to entomb Fortunato. I looked at my lamp; it had only an hour of light left. My lips were suddenly very dry.
Then it occurred to me. Fortunato had gotten out, so there must be another way. I quickly departed in search of it. A terrible thirst came over me. I went for about ten minutes before I realized that I was surrounded with drinks. I searched for a pale wine. I couldn’t afford to be even the smallest bit drunk. I finally found it. It was Chablis, its age was unknown. I drank it anyways. It was so light it almost tasted like grape juice. It was also somewhat cold, luckily. I pressed on.
Some thirty odd minutes later I began to panic, and ran quickly. I quickly lost myself in the maze of the vaults. As I was running, I tripped. My lantern went flying and shattered on a wall. I was plunged into an incredible darkness. Then I heard it.
That insufferable laugh, that was so high it was like a schoolgirl’s giggle, rang through the halls of the dead. Fortunato had entered the vaults.
“Hello Montressor, my friend,” Fortunato began “we shall have quite a game here in this little hellhole of yours.” He then fell into a laughing fit so horrible he began to cough wretchedly. When this finished, he spoke again.  “I’m coming to get you.”
The fire, which had filled me in my room, was gone now, replaced by animal fear. I turned and fled blindly; crashing into walls, knocking over bones and bottles alike. His horrible laugh followed me everywhere in the darkness, like a shadow made of sound. Then it happened.
As I was sprinting, I crashed my hip into a pipe of some alcohol. The rapier resting on it went flying. I scrambled to find it, but couldn’t. As I was searching, something sharp pressed on my neck.
“Stand up, monster.” Fortunato’s voice no longer held an insane mirth. It was cold as ice and hard as iron. I did and was immediately chained to a wall. I already knew where I was.
“So,” I said, “You mean to return the favor.”
“No,” he replied “Only monster bury the living,” at this he lit a lamp, showing a chair, food and drink, I prayed against all hope that he would release me, but then he continued, “and as you said, I shall not leave until you draw your last breath, and there needs to be a hole for me to hear you breath.” He laughed again, and held up the rapier.
“I didn’t know you had this, lucky me you crashed into that cask of Amontillado.”
I hope you enjoy it. It's my stab at a sequel to one of my favorites of of Poe.
© 2005 - 2024 doggidablue
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Armalite's avatar
Damn, that's good, you must be a grade A english student :)