The Exorcist Novel Novels & Stories

She racked her brain, desperately trying to think of what to do, who to talk to next. And then, suddenly, as she saw the cross mounted on the wall above the table, it hit her: a priest. If anyone was qualified to know anything about the paranormal, about vampires, about the spiritual forces of good and evil, it would be a priest. The local priest, Father McMullen, was a good, kind man. She didn’t know him that well, but she knew enough to know he was accepting. He was the perfect person to talk to; he could not only give her comfort, but also give her guidance, tell her if she was crazy, and if not, tell her what to do. After all, the church still had an exorcism ritual, didn’t they? Maybe t

When I woke, my vision blurred and my whole body ached like never before. Then I remembered why – I was cornered in an alley and was beaten by Liam’s crazy fans, but then I was rescued... by a man who claims to be the devil. “The name is Arlo Frantz, darling.” A voice spoke across from me, a deep rumble I felt in my chest. My eyes caught sight of the man leaning back against his leather chair. And almost immediately, my blood heated to an impossible level when I heard his voice again, either because I still recall how ruthless he sounded when he ordered those girls to have their limbs broken... or... I was just smitten by his appearance.

Emily scolded. After minutes of climbing the team of four finally reached underground. Chambers broke the descent, flashes of painted walls catching their light. First—bright colors: gods crowned in gold, kings lifted in triumph. Then darker—angels turning away, mortals bound in chains, eyes painted so sharply they seemed alive. The beauty bled into menace with every step. "Damn," Caleb exclaimed, staring at the walls. "They even inscribed death spells on the walls" Emily whispered. "Death spells?" Eric muttered, his voice bouncing off the stone. "That's comforting."

She glanced back down at the leather-bound book resting on the floorboards beside her. The empty pages seemed to stare up at her, daring her to turn them. With a trembling hand, she picked it up again, the leather warm against her palm. She knew she should get up, should finish unpacking, should do something practical, anything to distract herself from the throbbing between her legs. But she couldn't. She was hooked. The anonymous writer had become a guide, a seductress whispering secrets into her ear, and Pinky was a willing student, desperate to learn every lesson.

Amal nods as if she already knows, her eyes narrowing slightly when she suddenly asks, testing Miranda’s intentions: Amal: I know that… but tell me, Miranda, why did you ask for the candles? Miranda swallows hard, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before slowly raising it again, her voice trembling with hidden terror: Miranda: I wanted to perform a certain ritual… I read about it in a book, a ritual to exorcise the demon from my room… I can’t bear the fear anymore. The demon has started haunting me, even in my sleep.

Something about it made my chest feel tight. Like I had seen it before. But I knew I hadn’t. I quickly closed the book. My heart was beating faster now. I stepped back. I didn’t like how that felt. Like the room was watching me. I turned to leave— And stopped. The front door. I heard it open. My heart jumped. I rushed out of the room and back into the main area, trying to act like I hadn’t moved. She stepped inside. Evelyn. Her eyes went straight to me.

This was the raw, beautiful chaos of his existence. But something was wrong. Wrapped around the silver pillars of his humanity were thick, pulsating red chains. They looked like rusted iron, smelling of oil and blood. They were tightening, crushing the silver light, suffocating it. “INTRUDER DETECTED.” The voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere. The red chains suddenly animated, rearing up like cobras. Scarlett didn't flinch. In this mental world, she was her true self—the Grand Exorcist. Her jade brush was now a spear of pure golden light.

“Tell me everything that you remember since you came here.” Jon saw Dante’s intense gaze and felt compelled to recount everything that he had experienced since he came to Orsica. He mentioned hearing the screams of the paintings the first time he saw them at the entrance hall and how the screams eventually softened into whispers and evoked emotions akin to what one feels when watching a play or a movie. When Jon recounted seeing a giant lizard with red eyes scaling the walls of the mansion, Dante smiled slightly. Jon then admitted seeing Dante glide across the room towards the cowering forms of Flora and her daughter and how Dante withdrew his hand as if burned upon touching the sanaria. Fin

He eyed the four men behind him and they all nodded in unison. As the bedroom door closed, Marcus had all the intention on exorcising the low-class demon as quickly as possible. He wanted to finish it considering it would be bothering the guests if the possession pursued. Though he didn’t have his exorcism paraphernalia on hand, he was confident since he memorized the verses by heart, and that these verses were enough to exorcise this insignificant demon for good.

“Exorcizo te, creatura, salis. Adjuro te, maledicte diabole. Adjuro te, serpens, discedas ab hoc virgo. Et nomine Jesu Christi, qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos. Et nomine Patri et fili et spiritu sancti.” He flicks holy water across Matthew’s chest, droplets sizzling as they hit skin, and the boy screams…a jagged, animal sound that rattles the wall. his body jerks, thrashing against the rope, the bed frame slamming into the brick with a force that shakes dust from the ceiling. Khatri’s heart lurches–fear, yes, but something hotter, something wrong, coils in his gut.