Dear Friend,

I wish to tell of a tale most unusual and bewildering to the average man but I know that you shall understand. Even so, the story twists and writhes as a snake would as it takes its final breath under a horses hoof. Thus I shall start from as basic an origin as I can.

As of many a night, I sit placidly on the outskirts of humanity as the fire whirls around men and women cheering to one another all along the table. While I am here amongst them, it is but a formality, here I am truly not and will never belong. They know this as well as I and so I am left to my silence and none think any the less.

But something new and unheard of suddenly occurs as a yell rises over the table that a cask of amontillado has been brought to the gathering and many push to gather themselves a heaping glass.

Now, I am as any mortal man, a heathen who harkens to intoxication when presented with such splendor but once my less than muscular frame has reached the head of the mob, the final drops of wine have been spent and I am left, once again, the one outsider who does not rejoice.

Then a feel a tap upon my shoulder and spin to see what strange newcomer speaks to me, since all of the others preferred to avoid my presence. I lock eyes with a warm, enveloping gaze, and am met with a boisterous voice. "How, on such a fine night, is your glass unfilled, sir?" This man asked, a smile illuminating the room. "It cannot be that you were cheated of amontillado, sir?"

"Well that is how fate deals her harshest of blows." I spoke in my darkest of tones, unwilling to weather the siege of stupidity and arrogance that blasted from my comrades. "Good night."

Much to my astonishment this most confounding man grabbed my arm with bewildered eyes and shook his head fervently. "Never can I allow such an injustice happen to a friend of mine. Here!" He yelled looking most pleased with himself as he tore my glass from stunned fingers and fluently poured half of his glass into my own. "Now let us drink together!"

I numbly clenched my fingers around the glass and leveled it with my lips, savoring the enchanting liquid while never letting my eyes wander from this enigmatic stranger. Only a mad man would relinquish such a delicious prize to a passing figure. What were his aims?

One the final drops of liquid had saturated his throat, the man sighed aloud, appearing most satisfied. He then turned his vibrant eyes on me and held out a large hand. "I am a man far from his home and know little about this area, so allow me the pleasure of introducing myself to you and all of London. The name is Fortunado. And you my good sir?"

I still remembered the amazing warmth I felt as his fingers intertwined with mine in a powerful shake and my lips mindlessly formed the words, "Montresor."

Time would only strengthen this blossoming bond between this strange man and I. We grew into fond friends that spent much time sparing over fine wines and other matters that interested both of us. I found myself enjoying the loud and pushy occasions that called us all together and often actual enjoyed exchanging words with Fortunado. But as this was a miracle and joy to me, it also was the roots of the reason why this dear friend of mine had to be done away with.

You see for all the time I had spent upon this earth, I had never allowed for such connections to occur for they would only cause pain, for these bonds caused me to fear the coming morning when I might not awake. The fear that this night would be the last that I see of my bosom friend and in just a few minutes one of us could be swept away by cruel fates hand. To die without a proper farewell or at the hands of some unworthy blow by illness or mistake. No Fortunado deserved much more and I did not wish to leave before ensuring this. And that was what this man did that was so unforgivable. He made me fear death, a most unforgivable act.

And so I pleaded to god that there was at least one way I could ensure my dear friends honor and it then came to me. I would have to be the one to grant him the great honor of dying in a greater way than the casual fool.

First I stumbled upon a dream one night, of myself and standing in the icy waters of gods tears as I watched a joyous Fortunado fall into abyss from atop the clock town. Having a magnificent show before his death and to amaze all with his splendor before the end came. But this I could not bare for I could now here their voices speaking ill of him as some pitiful fool that slipped and fell or some coward that fled from life. That would never do.

The next was to slit his throat as he partook of an especially pleasurable wine, so that he may die while happy but this idea lasted ever shorter than the previous. Never could I have him left wondering what had happened! He had to know that all my sole was lying there barren before him, not slinking away as some deserter.

The final plan was the one that ran the hardest. I wished to burn him, have him feel the extreme warmth that others felt every time he smiled. It was oh so perfect, to lock him in a room and then allow the flames to devour his flesh as I watched him through a window, never having my sight falter. This was so fine and eloquent until I found myself noticing the inevitable. I would be caught at the end of this plan and to be killed by a fool who is later hung is an unspeakable disgrace.

So then I came to the discussing to myself of the catacombs and sealing him inside of the darkness. During the carnival he would be gay thanks to the season and wine and his final hours would be joyous. And when it did come to the end, he would know that it was I that took pity upon him and it was I that was drowning not him.

And I carried out my plan, and it all slid so finely. I regret not a thing for I have saved my friend from the rest of humanities curse but I write this letter now so that you may know that only the finest may die this way and so was the reason Fortunado was given this fate. The reason the fire did not consume this note as it did me was so that you all could know of this man. Honor this and do not forget his name.

Sincerely,

Montresor