The Tell-Tale Cell Phone: Part 2

I will not trouble you with the labors I undertook. How the body was rent down into easily carried parts, how the blood was caught in a succession of Mountain Dew bottles. How I deposited him into the very couch upon which he died. There was no need to clean, as the living room was in so much disarray already, not even Gil Grisom of CSI could find a trace of wrong doing!

When I made the end of these labors, it was four o’clock, still dark as midnight. I was a bed, sleeping, my heart light, when there came a knocking upon my door. I rose, groggy, and answered, my feet safely ensconced in bunny slippers.

There were two constables. A shriek had been heard by a neighbor in the night and an alarm had been sent, foul play was suspected.

I smiled, for what had I to fear? I bade the officers welcome, saying that the shriek was my own in a dream, that Mario had set upon me with a wrench. I bade them search, nay, invited them to search. I opened every door, unlocked every latch. My roommate, I said with glee, had gone to an all night showing of the Extended Version of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. He would not return for many, many hours.

The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. They sat upon the couch, the very couch!, and chatted of familiar things. Of leveling in WoW and of the outcome of a battle betwixt a zombie and a robot. I chatted with ease, a smile upon my lips. Yet I began to grow nervous. I heard a ringing in my ears, the bale tune of an mp3, as if an ocarina were played through cotton. It was the cell phone of my victim, I had not removed it from his trousers, loathe as I was to touch the soiled fabric.

The noise grew, louder and louder still. I talked more quickly, more loudly. I at last found that the noise could not be within my own ears. It was so loud, yet the officers gave no notice. I talked more quickly, more vehemently. I argued, debated, whether Gordon Freeman could defeat Master Chief! And they still could not hear the infernal tones of the ocarina! I rose, began to pace, but the noise steadily increased! And still the men chatted pleasantly and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? They must hear it, they had to hear it! They must suspect! They must know! Yet they sat there, mocking me! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I felt I must scream, and still, louder! Louder! Louder!

Shit! I shrieked. I admit the deed. Up with the cushions! The nerd lies buried there! Here, here, it is the ringing of his hideous cell phone!

Cheers,
-Jason
(if you would like to read the original Tell-Tale Heart, here is the complete text online: http://www.eapoe.org/works/tales/thearta.htm)