I'm not mad! In fact I have perfect reasons for killing the nice old man in my building. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture --a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees --very gradually --I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.
When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little --a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it --you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily --until, at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye. I decided to take action.
He heard me and waited for a long time. Finally, I jumped in and the man looked surprised. He let out just one scream and sat up in horror. Then, smoothly I threw the bed over him and the rest was precautions of storing the body.
And then ingeniously I hid the body parts under the floorboards. And so the next morning the police came to check on the scream that was heard the night before.
Villains! dissemble no more! I admit the deed! --tear up the planks! here, here! --It is the beating of his hideous heart!