Exorcism Lines Novels & Stories

Come on, let's go exorcise the bloody fuck out of him" "Exorcise?" I ask raising a brow. "Yes." He says grabbing the nearest vial of what seemed to be a cool clear liquid. "Exorcise." He repeats. The energy grew with more intensity as we move towards him, it seemed all too little in time for this to happen, but with each step the negativity in the air seemed to increase to the point where I felt like I could taste it. As we moved closer groaning and grunting echoed off the walls and the distinct smell of a foreign entity became clear.

It still had that sick yellow paint and the white on the pillars were beginning to wash off, the painting of a phoenix on the the left side of the building was beginning to fade away a reminder that the one who painted it no longer existed. Taking a deep breath I walk to the door, my hands finding the bell. After two or three rings the door opened with so much force I thought it was going to come off. The one who opened the door had an angry look on her face, her hair looked like a bird's nest, her clothes were so dirty she smelled like alcohol and vomit, black circles underneath her eyes and a cigarette stick in between her lips. "Still drink mama T?" I asked coldly The lady gasped when she

Penelope said, beaming with joy. Aiden raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The last known book of witches? That sounds interesting. What's it about?" "Well," Penelope began, flipping through the pages, "it's about a powerful potion and medical procedures that can supposedly get rid of any monster that's taken over a person's body. It's called the Spell of Exorcism." "Exorcism?" Aiden chimed in, looking up from his sandwich. "Isn't that what they do to evil spirits in horror movies?"

A desperate scream pierced the air, sounding as if it came from the depths of hell. Sweat beaded on Sebastian's forehead. It was the first time he was using an exorcism spell, and he didn't feel confident at all. Even so, he trusted that the spells passed down by the Sacred Medicine Society wouldn't be wrong. There was an ear-splitting bang, and a black shadow suddenly appeared in front of Sebastian. Sebastian hastily backed away. "Who are you?" He looked coldly at the dark shadow. "You shouldn't have disturbed me! How dare you mess up my plan? You're asking to die!" the dark shadow roared in fury.

Her body coils, trembles, snaps—and her scream tears out of her like it’s been buried in her lungs for days. “Red!” she cries, hoarse and ragged, the word guttural, primal, soaked in agony and release. She convulses. Her pussy clamps down around me with such force it nearly chokes the air from my lungs. Her spine arches off the bench, fists clenched tight, tears spilling freely down her flushed cheeks. She doesn’t just come. She breaks. It’s not an orgasm—it’s an exorcism. It’s not release. It’s rupture.

People like him… I would never forgive him! Maybe it was the fury or the stress, I could no longer hold it back as I coughed up a mouthful of blood. Zach's pupils shrank. He wiped my mouth with his sleeve, panicking. "What's wrong? What's happening to you?" At the same time, Jessica's frightened voice rang out. "Zach, I can't see! It's all dark… So dark! Zach!" She searched around blindly, grabbing Zach's arm, sobbing. "Zach, I can't let anything happen to me! Please, help me!"

The aide vanished instantly. Alone, Clarisse rose and crossed to the window, the skyline glittering like a board scattered with broken glass. She had ruled these towers for years, unseen and unchallenged. But now, too many shadows pressed against her walls. Damon Cross circling with his enigmatic smile. Elara growing sharper, bolder. And somewhere, an unseen player who could sever her lines without warning. Clarisse touched the pearl at her throat, grounding herself with the ritual gesture. No, she wasn’t beaten. A snapped string didn’t mean the symphony ended. It only meant she needed a new instrument.

“I won’t—I won’t ask again—” “You won’t,” Marcus agreed. The word landed like a door slamming shut. Silence stretched between them. Heavy. Suffocating. The morning traffic continued around them, but it felt distant, like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them on that crosswalk. Marcus leaned in just enough that his voice dropped even lower—private, dangerous, the kind of calm that promised worse things if ignored. “I could make you disappear,” he said evenly. “And no one would ask questions.”