Faust Legend

The Man in the Eighth Cell

Nearly all the light of the cell had escaped by now. Nights in prison were the hardest on him; but it did give him a chance to think back to what he had done. Thinking back, he remembered barely anything. But he did remember the rage, the fight, the man, and the bullet that he fired. Those actions were simply what led him to this place that he now hated so much. After several experiences in jail, this one seemed to have the most profound effect on him. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was about this atmosphere that made him so afraid; probably the voices and shadows that seemed to taunt him nearly every night. But he was sure they were only a pigment of his imagination. Another factor could be the mysterious jar sitting in the far corner of the cell. The cell had no decorative feel to it, so a past captive must have left it there. Inside the jar were several pennies, some of which had rusted and withered to a small size. The jar may have held three dozen pennies; all sitting in this jar in the corner of a jail cell.

“Here, John.”

He looked up to see the guard officer delivering dinner for him. Without reply, he took the offering and left in it the corner of the cell, not in the mood for eating. With a nod, the man slipped out of sight down the long dark hallway.

John’s reputation had never been the best. He never worked a successful job, was never married, he did not even have very many friends. Sometimes when he walked down the street to buy a newspaper, he could hear people whispering, “There goes John Hobbs,” or “That Mr. Hobbs disgusts me”. On occasion, a mother would pick up her child and shield them from the sight of such an awful man.

Normally a fearless and rebellious soul, John was surprised by the amount of uneasiness that this prison gave him. But he shook it off because nothing could turn John Hobbs into an apprehensive man. But on that particular night, there was something that made him uncomfortable.

He began to hear the voice again. It was an extremely deep, raspy voice, like none he had ever heard before. Typically, he would force himself to avoid what the speaker was saying. But tonight, he listened.

“John Hobbs, I know what you have done. I know why you are here. And I know that you want to leave. I can help you.”

“How?” replied John. “How can you help me?”

“Finally!” exclaimed the mysterious voice, “A response! Let me tell you how I will help.”

Suddenly, a cool breeze swept across John’s body, as if the source was right in front of him. As he squinted harder at the far corner of his cell, he noticed something that had not been there a moment before. It was a dark shadowy figure, an unfamiliar and disturbing sight. When he looked closer at the figure, he realized it made out the shape of a person. This person did not look like one he had seen before; it seemed to be a man with dark skin and black hair, wearing some sort of robe. His eyes were a piercing red and he had long limbs. His mouth had formed into a twisted smile bearing a set of sick, crooked teeth.

“I would like to make a deal with you, Mr. Hobbs,” said the figure. “Are you willing to work with me?”

John hesitantly replied, “Who are you?”

The man laughed a sinister laugh. “Who am I? Oh, please. Surely you have heard of the man in the eighth cell?”

“I’m afraid I have not,” said John. He slowly cocked his head to find that the silver plaque on the wall of the chamber had a number eight written on it.

“Some know me as just that: the man in cell eight. But I am much more. I am a miracle worker. I can make your wish come true if you give me a simple thing in return. All it takes is for you to agree to my deal, and you will be free.”

“Free?” John exclaimed. “You mean if I agree to do something for you, you will free me from this jail cell?”

The man nodded. “Not only can I free you from this cell, I can take you to a place where you will never live with the fear of returning to prison ever again.”

John thought about all the things he would do if this man could truly free him from the prison cell. He would continue his favored life of rebellious activities. Living to the fullest in this way was his only desire in life. He had no yearning for a happy and successful life; just one where he could freely continue his disobedient lifestyle. John would do anything for a chance to return to this way of living.

“How do I know that I can trust you?” John asked.

“Well…” the man picked up the jar and brought it to John. “Do you see all of these pennies in this jar? These pennies represent my past patients, all 58 of them. Each and every penny symbolizes an individual that I have freed from the bondage of this place and sent out into a world where there is no fear of coming back.”

Looking closer at the jar, John could tell that there a great amount of pennies. If all of these people agreed to this deal, why shouldn’t he?

“Well, I surely would like to be free, and I would also like to be taken to this land of yours,” said John. “I have no desire to stay here anyway. But I'm not sure I can trust you. Not only do I have no idea where you are taking me, but I also do not know who you truly are."

The man gazed into John's eyes with a sharp glare. "If you say no to me, I will only continue to taunt you. You will eventually come with me, John Hobbs. No one leaves cell eight without agreeing to my generous deal. How could you turn something like this down? Don't you want your freedom?"

 John thought long and hard about his offer. What harm could it cause him? It's not like he had any business staying in this town anyway. "Alright, I accept your offer. Now, what is it I need to give you in order for you to take me to your promised land?” On the man’s face grew the sickest grin John had ever laid eyes on. He took a step toward Mr. Hobbs. “Come with me, and I shall take you from here.”

Just like that, the two vanished from the scene. How easy it was for the man in the eighth cell to trick someone like Mr. Hobbs into thinking they were going to be free. Poor John should have known that the man he made a deal with was truly the devil; he had come to take his soul and keep it forever. Sure, he would be free from the bondage of the prison walls, but he would never be free from the real devil himself.

The next morning, when the guard came to give Mr. Hobbs his breakfast, he found an empty cell. “Oh, no,” he thought to himself. “Not him again.” The guard rushed over to the jar of pennies and began to count. Just as he expected, in the jar there lay 59 bronze pennies.