The Tell-Tale Heart project

The man before me was a shell of his former elagant self, he was boney with short black hair. As always the client was in a straight jacket and pants loose around the legs, covered in buckles to sacure him to certain positions and places and had wild hair and often giggled, the one thing that peaked my curiosity was his sense of acomplishment yet fear. "... so you see I'm not mad for a madman would not have been so careful when hiding the body."

I had already deduced that he was indeed insane, due to his imense parinoia and claims of hearing the man's heart beat even after death , but to convince him that I was considering his sanity, which in itself a attempt to calm him, I asked to here the story one more time. what intrigued me most was his consistancy, it was as if he was reading it from a script for not a word chaged in the four times now five that he had told me his tale. "Can you discribe this eye that caused you to fulfill this lust for blood?"

 The inquire startled him for he answerd "No! I can not! The mear thought of it vexes me so. The vulture eye, ever present, ever watchful! It calms me, the knowledge that the eye will never open again." 

That eye must have somthing diffrent it drove the man before me mad! But in fear of triggering an out burst I did not question him further. As the orderlys walked in, for their session was over, a bead of sweat rolled down the man's cheek and he jumped up and screamed "NO! NOT AGAIN! There it is again! The constant thumping! I can't take it! NO!"

The two men pounced on him as soon as he begain to wail. They dragged him out of the room by his collar as he whimperd. "Make it stop. Please. Please make it stop." and with that the doors shut and I was once again alone with my thoughts and a stack of unfinshed paper work.