Montressor Confession

It was that fateful day, that day when Fortunato brought my wrath upon his soul, that he sealed his fate. He insulted my family, he insulted me, his words burned my soul, so I made sure his immolation was much, much worse than just dying.

I, Montressor, tell the story of the death of Fortunato. It has been one of the greatest mysteries of our town in Italy. The beloved Fortunato, where has he gone, what has happened to him? I would bear the thousand injuries he laid upon me, but his insult was where he crossed the line. From that day forward, I knew that I would avenge my family, I would get my revenge.

I had planned for months, and decided to see my dear friend in the carnival season. When I met him I saw that he was already drunk with wine, which went even more with my plan. I told him I had a pipe of amontillado, and he insisted he would come to taste it, himself a connoisseur in wine. I took him to my palazzo, into the catacombs, chained him to a wall, and left him to rot with the bones. My revenge was complete, and it tasted better than amontillado ever could.

I tell this now, after 50 years, to show that I had done the perfect crime. Some people questioned Fortunato's disappearance, but now everyone has forgotten about that fool. It was the worst way to die, chained to a wall, rotting away, and being forgotten by everyone, everyone except his murderer. I smile every time I think about him. And every time I sleep, I always hear the bells jingling on Fortunato's hat, it gives me a good laugh every time. Fortunato, how unfortunate was your death, but I have no regret for it.