Story in Edgar Allen Poe's Style   It was many years ago. It all started one terrible January day when I went skiing with some friends and my older brother. I hated my older brother with all my heart from as long back as I can remember. He never did anything particularly bad to me, but I know he somehow controlled the outcome of certain events, because I could sense it. I didn't really want to go with since he was there, plus I wasn't a very good skier, but my friends, especially my girlfriend, eventually coaxed me in to it. At first it was all just a lot of fun, but then my brother, who's an expert skier, called to me while we were both at the top of the slope, about to go down. He wanted me to try the 'expert' slope. He warned me, though, to be very careful and told me I didn't have to go if I didn't want to. I really didn't want to go, because I was had been just carefully skiing down the 'intermediate' courses, but out of nowhere, it seemed, a few friends and a bunch of people I didn't know showed up and were daring me to go down and telling me that I would be a chicken if I didn't. My girlfriend was also standing there, so I felt that I had to go down to impress her. After a while I built up the courage to ski down, and went to the edge of the top, just to mentally map out the course and check for obstacles. Meanwhile, my brother was just standing about twenty feet away, staring at me, with a very surprised look on his face, deep in thought. But then, before I was ready, he somehow gave me a swift push on the back and I started flying down... I know that he in some way had control over the course and my speed, because I was going at incredible speeds that I couldn't believe. Then, all of the sudden, I slammed into a huge mogul that I'm positive he intentionally made me go towards. My leg was in excruciating pain. My brother skied down and saw what was wrong and quickly checked on me, then continued on down and got help. Anyway, I got a very seriously broken leg and had to sit at home in bed for a few weeks. I had to use crutches to get around and had a thick cast on my leg. My brother pretended to care, and even took some days off his job to drive to my home and keep me company. I still hated him and knew he was just planning to kill me, though. I could read his mind. I knew what no one else knew, which is that he subliminally pushed me down that slope and forced me towards that dangerous snow mound. He was responsible for my painful injury. I know precisely what he was thinking, which was, "Ah, my plan is working perfectly. Now that I've used my subliminal powers to injure him, and acted as a hero, I can kill him and not a soul will suspect me." But I was extremely smart... way ahead of everyone else. I knew of his evil plans and spent my days composing my master plan. My first step was to trick everyone into thinking that I was grateful for my brother and loved him. So I was always nice to him, especially when other people were around. Then one cold winter day while I was sitting at home with my brother taking care of me, I told him that it would be really nice if he made a nice, hot chicken soup for lunch and brought it to my bed. At this time, my broken leg was almost fully healed and I was able to walk around, but I didn't let anyone know. Anyway, he went off to heat up the soup, and I made sure that my cast was off my leg. I made certain that he wouldn't be able to see that it was off by having the blankets over me, up to my chest. I double checked to make sure that a large steak knife was still hidden in my top dresser drawer. The sheer genius in my entire flawless plan was unbelievable. I had thought of every detail. No ordinary human could have created a plan this great. My brother finished cooking the hot soup and brought it in to my room. He was slowly lowering it down to me, but then, with lightning-speed, I hit the bottom of the bowl, making it fly up to his face. He writhed in agony, his eyes burned by the incredibly hot soup. Then, while he was shrieking and stunned, I jumped up and opened my dresser drawer, grabbing the knife. I quickly slit his throat. I threw on my shoes and dragged his body through the house and in to my garage. In my garage, I have a workbench which is held up by four metal barrels, which are a little bigger than garbage cans. Everyone thinks they're permanently sealed and empty. I was able to slide one out and pop off the top. It was still empty inside. I was barely able to fit my brother's corpse inside. I fit on the top, which made an air tight seal. I moved it back under my work bench, which it supported once again. I then carefully cleaned up the blood and spilled soup from my house and made sure everything looked exactly like it did earlier that day. That night I also covered the footprints in the snow from his car and got rid of any other clues to his presence. The next morning I woke up and called his house, asking his wife where he was and why his car was out in front of my house. I was calm, confident, and at ease. After discussion, we agreed he must be in trouble and called the cops. They soon showed up at my house and searched thoroughly. I had my story straight and they could see I still needed crutches and would never hurt my brother. They were convinced someone else abducted him before he reached my house. One of my hobbies is to rebuild classic cars in my garage, and I am known to brag about my projects. I led the police officers in to my garage to check out my hot rod. I showed them all the parts of the engine and inside. They were for some reason particularly intrigued by the custom two-tone paint job on it. For several minutes they were admiring it. Meanwhile, I started hearing a faint pounding sound. It grew louder. I realized that this haunting sound was coming from the drum in which I hid my brother's corpse! The cops were so amazed by the hot rod's paint job that they couldn't even hear the pounding. It became almost deafening. I couldn't stand it anymore! I ran over to the metal barrel my brother was in and slid it out and knocked it on its side. The top popped off and his body rolled out, all disfigured and bent.   Plagiarism warning: Please read!