Revenge: a Tale of Guilt and Consequence

Exclusively available on PapersOwl
Updated: Aug 22, 2023
Cite this
Date added
Pages:  4
Words:  1070
Order Original Essay

How it works

Dark Shadows of Revenge

Every day it appears, I see a dark shadow tailing me wherever I go. Looking to revenge and demolish me. There is this dimness gradually crawling to drag me down to hell, taking every one of my breaths and voiceless shouts. I have comes to find that revenge is a short fulfilling inclination. How could I feel remorse? People often do things they are not pleased with, yet I have accomplished something unspeakable, and I have gone insane.

Need a custom essay on the same topic?
Give us your paper requirements, choose a writer and we’ll deliver the highest-quality essay!
Order now

Consistently it frequents me, the shouts of the man they used to call Fortunato. The man who screamed out, “Let me go.” Today particularly, I have given many ideas to my past with the phantom of a man I looked for revenge. All the memories I trapped Fortunato down in the basement of the catacombs are coming back on to my mind. It was then I realized what I was doing and how short it satisfied me. The night was the worst decision of my life.

The Night of Regret: Fortunato’s End

That night was the night. The night that I, Montresor, have finally accomplished the revenge I have arranged and wanted for such a long time. I took a gander and looked at the mass of stones that I had trapped Fortunato in. I take in the smelly smell of the catacombs as I advance out and ventures out onto the outside air. As I walked out, A “smile,” as I recall, a genuine smile was present on my face when I saw him shouting out for me to quit goofing off and let him go. I ignored his begging and left him, and returned to my normal life, acting as if nothing had happened. There is no man named Fortunato in my mind. Until one day, I abruptly thought of Fortunato. There’s this inclination that is beginning to devour me from the back to front. The sentiment of guilt is eating me out alive. I shouldn’t feel bad for what I did; he deserved it. But every day, it gets a little worse, and I don’t know what to do.

Confessions and Betrayal

It has now been a week since the incident, and no one knows about Fortunato except me. My closest friend Charlie came to visit me, and I was happy but anxious at the same time. I haven’t seen him in a very long time. But why was I anxious? Because I know he can tell when something isn’t right. The first thing he said to me was, “Montresor, you look exhausted. Is something the matter?” to which I replied, “Uhh…No! I’ve been awake all night excited for your arrival!”.

I couldn’t hold it any longer and decided to tell him what happened. I called on to him, “Charlie, I must tell you something very important, and you must not tell anyone. Never.” Charlie took a gander at me with an interesting and stressed look. I tell him everything I did to Fortunato. How I tricked Fortunato to goes into the catacombs and trapped him inside a wall, and left him to die there. Charlie didn’t state anything and asked me where Fortunato’s body was, so I demonstrated the way to him. He was shocked and didn’t state anything for a while. Then he finally told me he didn’t want to talk or be involved with me anymore. He decided to pack his belonging and left my house. Possibly telling him was a terrible Idea. I didn’t have a clue what to do than to feel more lament for tricking and killing Fortunato in that tomb.

Facing the Consequences of Revenge

The following morning, the sun was setting behind low, gray-blue storm clouds; I decided to return to the catacomb to keep an eye on Fortunato’s tomb. It was a sad morning, and the feeling of guilt for killing Fortunato was still inside me. I went down and realized that his body was all of a sudden gone. I was frightened for my life and was too terrified to even consider thinking of anything. “But how? How could his body be gone?’ I was scared that I would get caught and have to die all alone in prison. Then I remember Charlie. I showed him the tomb and where I kept Fortunato’s body. ‘That bastard,’ I shouted out of annoyance and anger. He must’ve told and shown the police everything I did. I rushed back and began to pack my belonging to get away from this place far and far away.

As I was packing, I heard the house’s front entryway being opened. I knew right away that it was Charlie and the police. At that point realized I had committed a mistake by thinking I could confide in anybody. The one I have known since I was little is the boy who has always been kind and nice to me. The one that I thought would be faithful to me was the person who handed me over. As I rubbed my clammy hands together intensely, I quickly ran back to the back of the house and tried to escape, but it was already too late. I decided it was not worth it anymore and gave up. The police captured me and conveyed me to the vehicle. It was then I understood that I had at long last acknowledged my fate and realized this is the thing that I will deserve for accomplishing something so horrendous.

Finally, this is the story of how all the memories and guilt of that night got me caught. I had come to learn that revenge is a short fulfilling inclination. Looking back on it now, I feel as if I could have perhaps seen this coming. Suppose I had thought of the consequence that I would face when I decided to trap Fortunato down in that catacombs. Maybe it makes me feel satisfied, but it was only for a shorter period of time. I realized that doing all this bought me no goods. All I ever thought about was to kill him and get my revenge. Now, I will have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life in prison.


  1. Poe, Edgar Allan. “The Cask of Amontillado.” 1846.

  2. Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore. “The Cask of Amontillado.” Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore,

The deadline is too short to read someone else's essay
Hire a verified expert to write you a 100% Plagiarism-Free paper

Cite this page

Revenge: A Tale of Guilt and Consequence. (2023, Aug 22). Retrieved from