The Ghost Of Montresors Father

Short Story

For years I've been roaming around these damp halls. I've spent so much time in here I know every damned soul in this place. I even mapped out and counted the tunnels, but I'm not going to bore you with numbers.

I will admit, knowing the souls does have it's perks. For one, you learn everything about everyone, the living and the dead. Ever wonder where the expression "Don't tell a soul" came from?

Apparently, there's a masquerade ball tonight. Why, back in my day, I was quite the party animal. That's it! I'm getting out of these catacombs tonight! I could use some fresh air.

Everyone looks swell in their costumes. The refreshments smell simply divine! Oh, how I wish to taste one, maybe just one bite. But alas, those sweet days of indulgence are over for me at this point. Oh how splendid the ladies look in their pastel dresses with black lace and beads in the stitching! I believe that's Fortunato. He looks rather...intoxicated. Just like his no good, wine stealing, lying, sorry excuse of a great great great great great grandfather, but at least he's enjoying himself! Of course, there's my boy! Montresor, son, if I do say so myself you've grown into such a handsome young lad. You're still a spitting image of your father.

What are they talking about? Amontillado? It can't be. I haven't had amontillado in ages! Where is it? I know I can't drink any but the sight itself would be enough for me. I must find it! Wherever they're going, I'll follow them. I believe they went this way.

Where are they going now? This house is too quiet. The servants are gone? That's odd. Wait, the kitchen is the other way. Son, where are you going? The catacombs, there's no wine in there. I would know, especially if it was sweet, sweet Amontillado. How dare he? Fortunato isn't welcomed in our family catacombs! Who does he think he is?

Perhaps I should go back to the ball. Wait a second! Any true father would know that look in their son's eyes. He's planning revenge. Did he finally figure out what happened near a century ago? Does he know what Fortunato's great great great great great grandfather did? I would've told him sooner but he was too young to understand, then, this happened to me.

As we travelled onward, I heard a very harsh, rough hacking fit. As I drew nearer, the nauseating noise grew stronger and louder. Fortunato had an awful cold. Why did he agree to come down here? Oh, that's right he's drunk.

Suddenly, there's a toast being made. "To the dead which.....", of course he's still drinking. This nitre will surely kill him if he stays down here for too long. Especially with that nasty cold.
Montresor wouldn't kill Fortunato, right? Even if his family does deserve the pain and grief. They will all suffer, with time. What's that clinking I hear? Oh no, the chains!

Speeding through the catacombs' hallways, then slowing down seemingly all at once I see before my very eyes, Fortunato, chained to the nitre covered walls like the cap to a fresh unopened bottle of Amontillado.

My son, I'm so proud of you! Although, I feel a little bit of guilt. Why is that? He's getting what he deserves. He's getting what they all deserve! Bound him in chains! Secure him down here to suffer amongst the rest of us! Make him pay for what his great great great great great grandfather did nearly a century ago! On this very night, son, you've proven yourself worthy to me and our family.

Extraordinary masonry work, my dear boy! I taught you well! However, it is in your blood. Fortunato, just like your great great great great great grandfather, a drunk! One more stone son! End it now! Kill him! Make them all suffer! As my great great great great grandfather did when his great great great great great grandfather stole the wife of our great great great great grandfather!

"Yes, for the love of god" said my son, finally ending the task. I watched the final stone go in. I decided to head back to the ball. Just as I arrived I saw Montresor hiding behind a new mask. A drunken woman came up, whom I assumed was Lady Fortunato, and asked if he'd seen Fortunato. "No, I haven't, but why don't you come back home with me?" my son very cunningly asked the intoxicated woman. As they walked away arm in arm, I decided to head back to the catacombs. Suddenly, standing before me was the ghost of Fortunato.

The End.