Poetic Justice

Do I hear a knock upon my door? T'was All Hallows' Evening and tricks and treats abound. Costumed tikes squealed for sweets and masques of grotesqueness hid otherwise pleasant faces. There o'er my threshold stood a young one, a stone taller than five feet high or so and soaked to the bone. I beckoned the youth in and placed a chair next to the fireplace. With not so much as a rustle, the youth was seated.

"Why are you out in the rain alone?" I queried.

"For I seek revenge," came the male voice.

His voice sounded eerily ancient and oddly familiar. I craned to get a good look at him hoping the yellow-orange flames would assist me. Sensing my efforts, the figure all so silently turned to a diagonal direction to my position; his back toward me and head a skewed.

"I have a fine Cask of Amontillado, flown in from Spain just yesterday." Fancy a drink? I asked"

"No, I only seek what I seek," replied the male voice.

"Alright, I pronounced, "Let's hear your Tell-Tale Heart."

The stranger began," As a young boy I had a happy life. I knew nothing but love and friendship from my family, neighbors, and friends." Then, one day a strange illness befell my best friend and me. We grew weaker by the day. Doctors came and went, unable to diagnose the cause, but knew the prognosis was grim."

"Stranger, I called, "do I hear a knock upon my door? I fear I grow weak with from hearty draughts of Amontillado.

The stranger did not answer, but continued his tale.

"An apparition appeared and offered a deal that could not be refused. "You will continue to live and I ask in return for you to be true." The following day one boy died while the other survived. As the boy grew with the years, he watched Death collect his parents, his wife and each of his seven children." Not once was he true enough to beg for the stay of Death for his loved ones."

"Sir", "What is the hour?" The stranger asked. The stranger shifted his chair so his face was in plain view.

"I heard the toll of eleven. It is the eleventh hour" "I-I-I must be dreaming, he stammered. You look taller and I dare say younger. "

"Stranger, please see who is knocking upon my door." I fear I am ill and can scarcely move. With every passing minute, my pain grows."

"For it is I, Sam." The Stranger replied. I am here to take back my life, my gift to you. "Sam, did my tale not stir your heart?" It is your desire for life that makes you a bedfellow of Death."

At that moment the rain stopped, the fire went cold and Sam existed nevermore.

Sources

Stade, George Consulting Editorial Director, The Essential Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe, Barnes & Noble Classics, 2004.