Tales of Terror

This is the beat of a human heart.

Sit very still and listen.

Is your heart beating in this same rhythm?

You are experiencing the heartbeat of a dying man.

And it is with death and dying that we concern ourselves.

What happens at the point of death.

What happens afterwards.

What happens after death

to someone who does not choose to... stay dead?

Someone like... Morella.

Whoa.

Ma'am... I have to get back to Boston.

Yes. Leave the trunk here, then. I'll have one of my father's servants carry it in.

Yes, ma'am.

Giddap.

Is anyone there?

Father?

Who are you?

Father?

- What? - It's Lenora, Father.

You... are my father?

Yes.

What do you want here?

Shocked?

Disgusted?

No.

Are you all alone here?

I was... until you came.

- Father, l came to see you. - Now you've seen me. Are you content?

That's all? That's all you have to say to me after 26 years of separation?

- Father, I came all the way from... - I know.

I know you don't love me, father, that you put me from your life,

except for 21 years of board and tuition money.

But I had hoped that we'd enjoy one brief visit together before I left your life entirely.

I have no way of getting back to Boston at the moment. May I stay?

Do as you wish.

Morella, my beloved wife,

your murderer has returned.

Get away from her.

Father, has she been lying here all these years?

Do you hear me?

- Why did you come here? - Don't touch me!

I'm not a helpless baby this time. I'll go when l... when I choose.

When I...

Oh, my God! My God! Why did I come here? Why?

- Try to understand. - Oh, I understand.

No. You understand nothing.

You understand nothing!

When she died, I died with her.

All that remained of me was this...

this walking corpse, this shell, this ghost of flesh.

She was my life.

And... I killed her.

- That's it, isn't it? - Yes!

Oh, no.

No. She thought you did. She said so on her deathbed.

She was so young.

So alive.

To die just a few months after giving birth to you - she couldn't accept it.

I hated you.

Oh, dear God, how I hated you!

I wanted to kill you.

I went into your nursery and I took you out of your cradle

and I almost hurled you out of the window!

I wish you had.

What?

You're ill.

I have a few months left to live.

We're both dead now, Father.

I'm sorry.

In my 26th year, my father is finally concerned about me.

Did you ever stop to wonder just once in all those 26 years

"Where is my daughter? What is she doing? Is she happy?"

No.

Why should you wonder that? After all, I'm only your child.

- I'll be leaving very soon. - Lenora.

- No! No! - Forgive me. Forgive me.

- No. No. - Forgive me.

How long have you been alone?

I don't know, Lenora.

Go on, please. What happened then?

There's not much more to add.

It came as no surprise to me that my marriage ended in failure.

I'd failed before in my relationships with men, many times.

Many times.

I... cannot give, you see.

Yes.

How did she die, Father?

How did she die?

There was this party, and...

I knew that she was too weak to withstand the strain of it.

Yet she insisted.

She had to have this party.

She had to dress up in her finest gown

and dance and sing.

Less than an hour after the party had begun,

she collapsed.

I picked her up in my arms and I carried her up to her bedroom.

I put her on her bed.

Her face was white.

Oh, dear God, how white!

She was enraged, furious!

Even dying, she was enraged.

"It was the baby," she said.

She swore she'd avenge herself.

"lt was the baby." She kept saying it over and over again. "It was the baby!"

And then...

before even the doctor could arrive, she was dead.

Why did you not bury her?

I did, but l could not leave her there.

I could not.

The thought of imprisoning her beauty in a box,

of putting her underneath the ground...

I was deranged, Lenora. lnsane with grief.

I only wanted to kill myself.

I almost did kill myself, a dozen times.

I'll never know what kept me from it.

No, I... l could not bury her.

And now?

There's no reason not to do it now.

Will you stay for a while?

Please.

I know it's too late to make amends,

but perhaps together we could find some sort of an answer.

Perhaps.

- Then you'll stay? - If you really want me to.

Yes.

Then you've come home at last.

At last!

Help me!

Go away... Leave me...

Lenora, what is it? What can I do?

- Lenora, what's wrong? - Let go...

Lenora!

Oh, no!

No!

How l envy you.

Sleep.

Now you are released.

Come back, Lenora. Come back.

Lenora?

Morella! Oh, my God!

Where's Lenora? What have you done to her?

All these years I've waited to return.

All these years I've waited to avenge myself.

And what is it that happens just before death

which leads inexorably to that death?

Our second tale provides one roguish answer to that question

in the story of a man who hated a cat:

The Black Cat.

Why don't you watch where I'm going?

Montresor?

Montresor?

Come down here.

And keep that beast away from me or l'll kick his head in!

I want some money.

There is none, Montresor.

"There is none, Montresor."

Always lying, it's a fact.

As if l wouldn't know you had more nest eggs than a chicken.

Get away from me, you repulsive creature!

And stay away from me!

Where's my money?

There is none, Montresor.

All right.

I'll find it.

Oh! Montresor!

If you don't give me the money, l have to find it myself.

Oh.

Oh, I know where it is.

I know.

If I ever catch you again, you mangy, insufferable brute, I'I l... I'II...

I'll tear your head off!

By the root!

Oh, you won't bite me.

Give me my money!

There is none, Montresor. You haven't worked in 1 7 years.

Will you?

Has it been that long?

Oh, stop your silly tactics. What about your sewing money?

- We need that for food. - Food!

That's exactly what l want it for. I drink my food!

Give me the money.

Thank you for looking into your heart.

We will starve now. That's all we have.

You've got a lot of money hidden all around the whole house. I know that.

He was so romantic... once.

I said get out! And stay out!

You pig, you. You... you dog!

How dare you throw me out!

If only l had a pistol.

If I had a pistol, I'd...

I'd probably sell it and buy myself more wine.

Oh, but really...

After all I've done for her, she should have given me more money.

There's just no gratitude.

Sir, would you help a veteran of the Revolutionary War?

Out of my way!

Pardon me, ladies, but could you spare a coin for a moral cripple?

Disgraceful!