Evil Week: How to Sell Your Soul to the Devil

Welcome to Evil Week, our annual dive into all the slightly sketchy hacks we’d usually refrain from recommending. Want to weasel your way into free drinks, play elaborate mind games, or, er, launder some money? We’ve got all the info you need to be successfully unsavory.

Once, as I was drinking at a bar in a Boston, a stranger offered to buy me a beer in exchange for my soul. She showed me a small stack of bar napkins she’d collected with people’s names written on them; each represented someone who had pledged their soul to her in exchange for a cheap brew. Even though I was drunk and I don’t believe in anything, I refused the offer. Sure, I thought, she’s almost definitely a college student with a peculiar sense of humor. But what if she isn’t?

The concept of making a deal with the Devil—trading your immortal soul for a worldly reward—dates back at least as far as the New Testament story in which Satan tempts Jesus in the desert. It appears throughout history, from the story of Faust, and on to that episode of The Simpsons where Homer trades an eternity in hell for a doughnut. Though it’s a well-worn theme, the idea is still powerful enough to provoke a sense of unease in a Boston tavern.

Real people who supposedly sold their souls

Many people have supposedly struck deals with Satan over the centuries. Pope Sylvester II is alleged to have traded his soul to a female demon called Meridiana in exchange for becoming pontiff. Both violinist Niccolò Paganini and blues icon Robert Johnson are said to have sold their souls to avoid practicing scales. But these stories are all short on specifics—maybe you need to meet Old Scratch at a crossroads like Johnson; maybe you need to say a mass in Jerusalem like Sylvester II; or maybe you need to buy Twitter.

As when I delved into the mechanics of summoning a demon, to clarify the steps involved in forging a pact with the Dark One, I’ve gone back to the source for much of our modern understanding of the Devil’s relationship with people—a book of old-school evil called the Malleus Maleficarum (aka The Hammer of Witches). Dominican friar Heinrich Kramer’s seminal 1486 tome not only lays out how to identify, try, and punish witches (and to a lesser extent, warlocks), it also offers a clear how-to for striking a deal with the Devil.

Two ways to sell your soul to the Devil

While Kramer’s book is the source of many of our most enduring ideas about Satan and witchcraft, it isn’t exactly reliable history. Instead, it’s a catalog of a disturbed individual’s misogynist fever dreams that provided a framework for the oppression and murder of thousands of innocent people (mostly women) across centuries. But we wanted an evil book, and you don’t get much more evil than that.

Malleus Maleficarum describes two methods of selling your soul to the Devil. The first requires a group of like-minded people to help you out, but if you’re not a joiner, there are do-it-yourself instructions as well.

Selling your soul to the Devil as part of a coven

Contrary to the popular notion of demonic pacts as lonely rituals conducted in dark bedchambers, pledging your immortal soul to the Dark Lord can be a fun social outing—perfect if you want to make new friends. Your coven should be very helpful with scheduling and walking you through the specifics on the appointed day. (If they’re not, find a new group of blasphemers.)

According to Malleus Maleficarum, here’s how to sell your soul as part of a Satanic coven.

Find a group of witches and/or wizards and ask them about their next conclave. If they answer your request with something like, “What are you talking about? Our only goal is to honor the earth, the elements, and the spirits that dwell within them,” sorry: You have actually found a group of Wicca practitioners, and you should stop bothering them. You want to find a group of OG warlocks and witches practicing black magic. Don’t let the fact that these groups only exist in the imaginations of 15th-century Dominican friars (and their modern equivalents) dissuade you.
Attend the ceremony alongside your new friends. The actual dates, times, and rituals involved are only known to coven members, but the coven should be very helpful with scheduling and walking you through the specifics on the appointed day. (If not, find a new group of blasphemers.)At some point during the conclave, the Devil will appear in the form of a man and address the group. I assume he’ll begin with lighthearted introductory remarks before getting down to business and urging the group to keep faith in him, and reminding everyone of the prosperity and long life he offers. The Devil will then ask if there are any newcomers in the audience tonight, exhorting the faithful to “recommend a novice to his acceptance.” This is your big moment!Step forward. The Devil will ask whether you will forsake the holy Christian religion and the worship of the Anomalous Woman (that’s what they call the Virgin Mary), and swear to never venerate the Sacraments. Say “Hell, yes!” (Do not waste time here. Satan is busy.)The Devil will stretch out his hand. You should do the same.With an upraised hand, swear to keep the covenant.The Devil will respond with something like, “Not good enough,” and lay out the rest of the bargain, explaining that you must give yourself to him, “body and soul, for ever” and do your “utmost to bring others of both sexes into his power.”After you say, “sure, great,” the Devil will add one last caveat: That you are to “make certain unguents from the bones and limbs of children, especially those who have been baptized; by all which means she will be able to fulfill all her wishes with his help.”Once you’ve agreed to the baby-murder, you are in service to the Devil (barring your preparation of said unguents, I suppose). Hail Satan! I assume there are refreshments and smalltalk after.

Selling your soul to the Devil solo

If the idea of spending Saturday night with a bunch of evil-obsessed cultists gives you social anxiety, don’t worry: Introverts can still enter a pact with the Devil. Here’s the loner-friendly method of selling your soul to Satan.

Enter a church on a Sunday. It should be a Catholic Church, and it has to be “before the consecration of Holy Water,” so talk to your local priest about his holy-water-blessing schedule. But don’t tell him why you’re asking!Once there, you must, “deny Christ, his Faith, baptism, and the whole Church.”Don’t forget to “pay homage to the Little Master.” Who? “That and not otherwise do they call the Devil.” Oh.The Lord of All Evil may or may not appear to you at this time. According to Malleus Maleficarum, it is “immaterial whether the Devil is himself present or not, when homage is offered to him. For this he does in his cunning, perceiving the temperament of the novice, who might be frightened by his actual presence into retracting his vows.” This is a thoughtful touch for introverts.
Congratulations! You’re now a servant of evil.

Enjoying your newfound power

Creating unguents from the bones and limbs of children and suffering an eternity of damnation may seem like a high price to pay, but once you’ve considered your new powers, I’m confident you won’t regret the agreement you’ve made. Unlike popular stories of soul-selling, according to The Hammer of Witches, you don’t get to negotiate your rewards, but the boilerplate contract grants you some very impressive new abilities. Devil-worshippers have the power to:

Raise hailstorms and hurtful tempests and lightnings.Cause sterility in men and animals.Throw into the water children walking by the water side.Make horses go mad under their riders.Transport themselves from place to place through the air, either in body or in imagination (Kind of a rip-off. According to Reading Rainbow, I can already transport myself from place to place through my imagination.)Affect Judges and Magistrates so that they cannot hurt them. (Which didn’t seem to work during the Inquisition.)Cause themselves and others to keep silent under torture.Bring about a great trembling in the hands and horror in the minds of those who would arrest them.Show to others occult things and certain future events, by the information of devils.See absent things as if they were present.Strike whom they will with lightning.Kill infants in the mother’s womb by a mere exterior touch.Bewitch men and animals with a mere look.

“But can I make someone’s penis disappear?”

Judging by the amount of space the subject is given in Malleus Maleficarum, whether devil worshippers can make people’s penises disappear is among the most important theological questions facing mankind. To put the issue to rest: Once you’ve entered into a dark pact, you will be able to make penises disappear.

You’ll actually have two methods of penis-removal. You can make it look like the penis has disappeared through the “tricks of conjurers and ventriloquists,” or you can (with the help of the Devil) literally do away with the organ. It’s up to you. As Kramer puts it: “There is no doubt that certain witches can do marvelous things with regard to male organs.”

What happens if you renege on the deal?

There may come a time when you grow bored of stealing penises and want to go back on the deal you’ve made. It’s not advisable—the terms you’ve agreed to are worse than those of your student loans, as suffering for eternity in Hell is long time—but if you can find a way to do it, you should. Ordinarily, I’m against breaking contracts for ethical reasons, but in this case, it’s probably OK (also, predatory gym memberships).

Stories concerning terminating deals with the Devil often revolve around loopholes in the contract. Within a Catholic framework, the search for redemption is enough to save Faust from the bargain he made. In purely legal terms, you could try the Daniel Webster approach and argue the ideals of America supersede even Satan’s power. Or you could get really good at playing the fiddle.