A Faustian Trade

To you this must asked

How far can you go to have

What you greatly need?

The small roll of paper slipped from my fingers, it’s question in calligraphic handwriting knitting my eyebrows as it teasingly floated in the air, just barely out of grasp. Digging both heels into the muddy floor, I snatched it and scanned the surrounding grassy field around me for anything else that seemed out of place. The whistling of an Autumn breeze through a cluster of oak trees and the ringing crickets kept me company as I scoured the bare land.

Scavenger hunting wasn’t really my Forte. Not in the least. Instead, I had the remarkable gift of losing just about everything from jewelry, clothes, and books, to most importantly, money. Financial woes left me in a sea of uneasiness that could only be cured by taking long walks, especially on evenings like today. It was why I stood in the middle of a vast park, glaring at the only lump of uneven dirt in the deserted field, patched together haphazardly.

Skidding toward the spot, I knelt and began to pull out clumps of soil until my fingers scraped against a damp, soft, black cloth. Clearing debris from it, I discovered a worn cardboard box and shook my head, stupefied. Unwrapping it, the package felt heavy on my arms like an anxious burden that stabbed my chest and momentarily halted my movements. It reminded me of the stupid advertisement I read days ago that led me here in the first place.

I could still picture the flyer I’d seen at Deus's Café last week before beginning my graveyard shift at Cedar Grove Inn. As a late-night concierge receptionist, caffeine refuel was a must to get through the grueling hours. That night, while the barista prepared my coffee, I hungrily read through every posting of available jobs hanging from their bulletin board that ranged from house sitting, dog walking, to lawn mowing. My eyes finally settled onto the fluorescent green paper that clearly stood out from the rest of the classifieds pinned to the wall. Filled completely to the bottom, The enlarged bolded lettering immediately piqued my interest.

Do take this plunge young traveler for you will achieve

Earnings of a limitless treasure, a dream fulfilled, everything you can conceive.

Victory is yours for a small exchange, just a tiny bargain

If indeed you decipher the entirety of this jargon.

Life is too short so enjoy every pleasure at your leisure and head to Jade’s meadow, dear fellow!

Asmodeus, the owner of the coffee shop, explained a former homeless man turned billionaire posted the ad one morning. He encouraged everyone he met to join in on the venture, including Asmodeus, who at the time struggled financially with maintaining the shop. He eventually followed the billionaire’s advice and went to Jade’s Meadow, also known as Briarwood Park where he found the perfect fix to save the Café from foreclosure. From then on, the shop became an overnight sensation, frequently packed up until closing time. He didn’t elaborate much further on what he found the night he went to Briarwood and instead suggested I visit the park and dig up my own solution. I hadn’t realized until now just how literal he was being.

“Don’t freak, Gabrielle. It’s just a moldy box. What’s the worst it can have?” I muttered, feeling just a bit ridiculous I had to calm myself at the sight of a mildewed box.

With shaking hands, I unfolded the slightly torn edges to face a spectacularly shiny cherry wooden box. Hauntingly beautiful, it's rectangular surface had twisted carvings in a language I couldn’t quite understand. When I ran my fingers through the lid the outside noise suddenly silenced, causing my head to snap forward. Indistinct whispers crept in from all directions, sprouting gooseflesh from my arms. The now freezing air twisted painfully against my ribcage to rouse a choked gasp. A small scroll tied with a scarlet ribbon swiftly rolled in from the pack of trees behind me and paused at my right side. Swallowing my sandpaper throat, I tugged it open.

Simmer down, for here is the abundance that you seek,

Out and beyond is a newly forged path far less bleak.

Untether your light, this is the toll for greatness,

Let it be consumed by this everlasting darkness.

Cold sweat slithered down my back as shadows came in and out of view through my peripheral vision. Vicious low growls prickled the nape of my neck as I visualized the new perfect life I might have without any hassles or strife. It drew me in like a moth to a flame and on it’s own accord one hand hovered over the box's lid for just a few seconds. But what exactly was the price for such a wonderful life?

My gaze shifted to the scroll a second time, skimming through it in the hope I’d missed a clue. And that’s when I saw it. The first letter in the first word of every line in the poem spelled out one word; Soul. Eyes widening, I blindly reached for the cardboard box and black cloth to hastily wrap the package. Burying it, the whispers abruptly quieted, replaced by the cheerful sound of birds chirping.

I could finally breathe again. Without a second thought, I stood and ran off the field. A gust of fresh air brushed my temples, gently soothing my fluttering chest and the starlit sky above encased the area outside like a shimmering safety blanket, protective and proud. Far ahead, the glow of a single streetlight guided me as I headed back home.