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Short Story Of Montresor

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Montresor stumbles out of the cellar, the ringing sound of Fortunato’s scream still piercing his mind as his hands trembled, locking the door behind himself. He turned and took a deep breath, walking back to the party with a shaky smile on his face. “Montresor, you fool!” he heard someone shout. His entire body stiffened and he broke out into a sweat. Had he been discovered? Had someone seen his despicable deeds? He slowly turned, and felt a rush of relief go through him as he watched his colleague, Jarret, stumble up to him, a bottle of some type of drink in one hand and one of his shoes in the other. His feet were black and blistered, but Jarret seemed to not take notice of this as he wobbled in front of Montresor. “You dare to walk through these streets, sober as the day you were born? During such time of celebration? No. We must amend this situation immediately. Come, let us drink.” Jarrett said, tugging the arm of Montresor, who stood in the street, baffled by the circumstance. Jarret thrust forth the liquor gesturing for Montresor to drink. As Montresor began to take deep pulls from the bottle, he felt the screams fade into nothing. Montresor awoke with a pounding headache, his face pressed against something hard and smooth. He opened his eyes a crack to glare of the bright white wooden floors that reflected the light of the morning sun into his sensitive eyes. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his head, the deep thrum a heavy indication of what had

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