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  • The old man was lying there not dreaming that I was at his door. Suddenly he moved in his bed
  • The time had come! I rushed into the room, crying, “Die! Die!” The old man gave a loud cry of fear as I fell upon him and held the bedcovers tightly over his head. Still his heart was beating; but I smiled as I felt that success was near
  • . I pulled up three of the boards that formed the floor, and put the pieces of the body there. Then I put the boards down again, carefully, so carefully that no human eye could see that they had been moved.
  • Three men were at the door, three officers of the 67 Edgar Allan Poe: Storyteller police. One of the neighbors had heard the old man’s cry and had called the police; these three had come to ask questions and to search the house.
  • I pointed at the boards and cried, “Yes! Yes, I killed him. Pull up the boards and you shall see! I killed him. But why does his heart not stop beating?! Why does it not stop!?”
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