You were a creation from Poe. Well, to be more specific, you were just a character in his book. He wrote you, making him your creator. The downfall of him being the person who mad you was that he made your life miserable. _

Your story was that you were trying to tell the reader you were still very sane, just nervous because you had commited a murder. You just claimed that your senses were sharpened from the experience. You had killed an old man as he had the eye of a vulture, you feared the man's eye. It drove you mad, although you had no reason to do such to the man. In fact, he had never done no wrong to you. You just did it so you wouldn't have to see that pale, filmy eye ever again. You had then concealed the old man underneath the floorboards.

Just before you commited the crime, you had woken up the old man by accident on the 8th night you were tempted to do the deed. You and the man stared at each other for an hour, you could hear his heartbeat, it sounded like a watch enveloped in cotton. After the death, police came after a shriek was heard from the home, you almost convinced them until you heard the watch enveloped in cotton again, convinced it was the old man's heartbeat.

_

You don't know how or why, but now you were standing right in front of the man who made you. The man who made you suffer. Poe looked at you with surprise. He thought if this was someone's ability that made you end up here. You weren't supposed to be here, you were just a fictional character.

"How..-" Poe moved his hair out of his eye to look at you, making sure he wasn't just seeing things.