Guys, I messed up big time.

I’ll preface this with explaining that I’ve been an auction addict for a while now. I’m always scrolling through different online auction houses and estate sale listings for cool things that people are getting rid of for a bargain. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a hoarder. I only buy things I know I have room for, but I scroll and dream and pin as if I have a gigantic sprawling mansion to fill. I’ve made accounts on numerous sites.

No, I didn’t buy a haunted antique. Or a cursed antique. What I did was much much worse!

I got a cool looking offer sent to my phone one day asking if I wanted to join a new auction site. Everything about it sounded fantastic. I really didn’t think twice about joining. FIRST MISTAKE.

Before I was allowed to make an account, there was one of those super long terms/agreements/conditions/blahblahblah etc. things that I had to read and sign.… I scrolled through quickly, skimming… as I usually do…

GUYS, YOU SHOULD ALWAYS READ THOSE THINGS!!!

Because I didn’t. And I literally just signed my soul over to the devil.

Like, THE ACTUAL DEVIL.

To be 100% clear here:

THE DEVIL - SATAN, HIMSELF -

NOW. OWNS. MY. SOUL.

And now he’s trying to sell it.

And, guys, I can’t afford to buy it back!

Have any of you found yourself in this particular perilous pickle? I know I’m not the only one who has signed over their soul because I can see numerous other souls for sale on the site.

And I’m assuming people aren’t always lured into signing by promises of cool antiques too. How many souls could Satan snatch through antiques? Not that many, I bet. I bet Satan is smart enough to draw you in by what you really love. For me, it was antiques, for you, it could’ve been a sale on designer shoes, cars, or maybe crafting supplies.

For those of you doubting if this is real, well… fair. It is pretty hard to believe.

Originally, when I went into the site and saw “FOR SALE: One soul, hardly used” with a photo of me beside it captioned: “the current vessel”, I thought it was an offensive joke. And “hardly used”. What was that supposed to mean?? I deleted my account immediately.

I didn’t believe any of it was real until Satan called.

At midnight that night, my phone rang. I had been dead asleep. Who was calling me at midnight, I wondered blearily. I picked up my phone and looked at the call display.

It said: “The Devil”.

That unnerved me. I figured it was connected to that stupid site I had joined. I swiped to decline the call and put my phone down.

No sooner was it back on my nightside table, my phone was ringing again. I looked at it. This time, the call display said: “Satan, Himself.”

I swiftly declined the call and immediately turned my phone’s power off.

After that, the phone stayed silent. Until 3am.

At 3am my phone started ringing again. But this time it was a FaceTime call. The call display read: “PICK UP”. My heart leapt in my chest. I had turned off my phone. I know I did. How did it turn back on??

I leapt out of bed and flew to the other side of the room. I didn’t want to touch the phone. I didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

I let the phone keep ringing. And ringing. Then it stopped. I waited in silence. Then-

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Someone was at my front door! I froze, absolutely petrified.

Then a thought struck me - I couldn’t remember if I had locked my door! I’m notorious at forgetting to lock it. I summoned enough courage to slowly peak my head out of my room so I could view the front door.

Through the frosted glass, I could see someone tall standing there, waiting, on the other side of the door. I pulled my eyes away from the figure to look to the deadbolt on my door. Fuck. I had left the door unlocked! Fuck!

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. Again. A firm but patient knock.

Heart pounding, I knelt down and crawled as quietly as I could to the door. Then I slid the deadbolt shut. I pressed my head into the door with relief. I thought I was safe but-

“Hello,” a smooth voice said from behind me. I whipped around. Standing there, was a man. He was tall, wearing a perfectly tailored suit. He was extremely attractive.

“It was quite rude not to answer,” he said in the same smooth voice he greeted me with.

“Who are you?” I managed to squeak out, feeling like a terrified mouse cowering in front of a panther.

“I know you know the answer to that.” He replied with a smile, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “But, if you need to hear it said out loud… I am Satan. You sold your soul to me.”

“How did you get in?” I asked with a trembling voice. Although a million questions were flying about my brain, that was the only one I was able to process enough to push out of my mouth.

“That doesn’t really matter, does it?” He answered. “All that matters is that I can always get to you, no matter where you are. The calls, the knocking on the door, that was just a formality. I like formalities. That’s why I’m here. I noticed you deleted your account, and I wanted to make sure you had a copy of our agreement for your records.”

He handed me a large envelope. I opened it. Inside was a tidy stack of paper. The “Terms & Conditions” agreement I had scrolled through so quickly online. My head was swimming, but as I turned the pages, words jumped out at me that I hadn’t noticed the first time: “your soul”, “waive rights for eternity”, “everlasting ownership to Satan (aka the Devil)”…

My eyes focused on the signature on the last page. My signature.

I went wild. I ripped the agreement in two. Then continued ripping and ripping until the whole thing was basically confetti on the floor around me.

Satan stood still, waiting until I was done. Then: “That was just a copy. I have the original, and as the agreement stated, the signature is eternally binding.”

He then calmly produced another envelope and held it out to me.

“Here’s another copy. For your records.”

I refused to take it. He gently placed it on my living room table.

“When your soul has been sold, I will come to collect it. I will, of course, do you the courtesy of calling before so you are aware when I am coming so you can prepare yourself. It’s your choice whether or not you want to answer the call. But, as you know, I will come either way. So, until we meet again, goodbye.”

Then, with a little nod of the head to me, he was gone.

I was left frozen, willing my lungs to remember how to breathe.

Guys, I don’t know what to do. I deleted my account, so I can’t even see if anyone is bidding on my soul. Does anyone have a lawyer that can help me get out of the agreement? Also, what happens when he collects my soul?? How long does it usually take to sell a soul? How long do you think I have? A day, a week, months, years? Is there anywhere I can hide? I’m in serious need of help - guidance - recommendations - suggestions - anything really. I don’t

Fuck.

Guys, my phone is ringing.