The Exorcist’s Fall

Sounds of scratching and microphone pops are heard as the video comes to life. Static made way for a green-lit infrared view of hands upon the camera. It eventually is perched on what looked to be dusty books as the man in the video began to step away from the camera. He was  a younger man, lighter spiked hair and eye color almost indiscernible under the hue of the camera. His features were sharp but non-threatening and his priestly robes added to the aura of approachability he gave off. He would have looked like a normal priest except for the small tears across the lower sides of his robes and patches of dust that had adhered themselves across the plain black fabric. Small patches of iridescent light can be seen from his sleeves in what looked to be fluorescent reflections. As he backed out of frame, the camera exposure shifted to allow for a better view of the room. It’s a dilapidated room with older 1900s architecture strewn with dust and clutter from those that had come before him. He cleared his throat as he placed an old wood chair in the frame and sat down. Before he spoke, he fiddled with a cross necklace, long tarnished and black with apparent age. “Good day, brothers. This is Brother Craige, and I regret to inform you all that I have fallen from his grace. I have lost my priestly powers and this video will serve as my resignation. Anything filmed beyond this point is to explain why. Please, brothers, forgive my actions.”


The recording cuts to static for several moments.


It is daytime in the video and the priest can be seen with a smile upon his face and a golden cross necklace dangling just in view of the frame. He carried the camera to capture his face as he walked across a large rolling lawn that stretched across hills in the background, only marked by a line of trees far behind him. “Hello viewers, today on Exorcism by Craige, I’ll be showing you the exorcism of the Dawnmar Manor, once owned by the chief steel manufacturer in the US from 1921 to 1933.” 

The camera panned to the gothic-style European manor that sat sentinel on top of the hill flanked by small patches of trees to add shade to the once well-manicured lawn. Decrepitation can be seen in some of the broken windows and aged stains on the limestone face of the structure, but the camera shifted back to the priest before any more meaningful detail can be garnered. “So anyway, legend has it that there’s a ghost in there from pre-convergence times that was bound and empowered by the convergence. It won’t be your normal free spirit given the age, so this video will mostly be about the types of ghosts and spirits a budding priest has to know about!”

He awkwardly held the camera aloft to capture his smile for a few seconds before he dropped the expression and began to think aloud, “Okay… voiceover next, pan to graphic on the different ghost types once I set up.”

The camera continued to record while the frame captured a vibrant green overgrown lawn and the sounds of the priest walking step by step through the tall grass. A tan gravel pathway slowly came into view and the soft swishing of grass is traded for the hard crunch of gravel. The manor’s ornate double doors are already cracked open as they came into view on the video, wood awash with residue from an untold number of raindrops upon its aged surface. 

The priest sat the camera down on a table to frame the foyer he entered. Large and smooth, but dusty marble ran the length of the entryway with small dark wood stands at every available nook. In the open entryway, he took out chalk and began to draw upon the floors. “So, to identify your ghost type, you want to start with a basic summoning circle, draw them in and get their attention. Always do this in the entryway to make an easy exit if the ghost is beyond your power to banish.”

The circle, finished with a star of David within, had candles placed at each line intersection. The video skipped ahead slightly as the priest began to walk forward to the camera as he talked. “So before I light the candles and start the summoning, you need to know your four basic spirit types. Free spirits are your run-of-the mill ghost, hard to interact with directly but present and possibly annoying. Next up are phantoms, which are more powerful and aggressive… and can fully manifest physically which makes for a more dangerous encounter. Then you have your fae spirits which can be playful but unpredictable, as their sense of what is right and wrong is different from ours. Then finally, you have a bound spirit which is more physical than most and acts quite a bit like an undead. The main difference with a bound spirit is that it’s bound to a specific location unlike an undead.”

The priest reached into his jacket and took out a small booklet. He began to flip through the pages when the video cut to him, again, flipping through pages next to his now lit summoning circle. “To summon, repeat after me. Spiritus, ostende te dictis meis, ad te voco, animam perditam, ad quietem lassitudinis formae!” 

The priest’s form was lit by a golden aura that grew to fill the room. As his chant finished, the light ceased and an eerie cool white light could be seen from outside the camera’s frame. He backed away from the center of the frame to the left in an obvious attempt to draw the ghost in view of the camera. The light came into frame and the camera shifted exposure again, the entry hall darkened while the figure became visible. The ghost that revealed herself was of fair complexion, stark white hair, eyes the color of midnight, and obvious long pointed ears. Her long yet thin floral embroidered robe dangled loosely on her lithe form as she looked thoughtfully upon the first face she had seen in ten years. 

The priest slowly entered back into frame and glanced at the camera before speaking. “Oh spirit, why do you reside here?” He asked in a grandiose voice.

Her face twisted in anger at the topic, “I was locked here by a vengeful mage, who rather trap me here away from my world than let me take a morsel of his mana.” 

The words hung heavy in the air as the priest stared deep into the abyss of the ghost’s eyes. She looked expectant as he took in a breath to speak. 

“Okay guys so we’ve just identified the type of ghost! This is either a free spirit or a phantom.” The priest said as he looked back at the camera. “We can either cast it out, bind it, or use the power of Christ to exorcize it!”

The ghost looked dumbstruck and glanced over to the camera, as if she had missed something obvious. “Who are you talking to?” She asked.

Brother Craige paid her no mind as he stepped into the center of the circle, only an arm’s length from the floating ghost elf girl. “The sponsor, Malkin-Dawnmar, the provider 100% US made steel to the world, link in the description, asked me to get rid of her so they can start renovations. In this case, a simple exorcism will do!” 

The ghost girl’s etheric brow furrowed, “You will do no such thing.”

The priest began to page through his small booklet when the ghost elf sighed and sullied up to his side. She placed an etheric hand on his shoulder and hung across him like a waiting maiden, “You humans have so little power it’s pathetic… you have to borrow from so many others with your collective belief of a savior. To banish me with such a pointless attempt would be to profane my kind.” 

Her words fell on deaf ears as the priest continued to look through his booklet until he reached ‘Exorcism and Banishment Phrases’. Her hands solidified slightly and the priest could feel her hands on him as if she was made of tangible flesh, “Human, I tire of this. Please, do not send me away, it has been so lonely here. Can we not talk for but a moment more?”

He pulled the small red ribbon in between the pages to mark his location in the book before he closed it. The priest again looked to the camera, “Alright guys, we got a spirit who’s very open to talking and might cooperate to leave to the afterlife on her own!” 

The elven ghost looked upon the priest in the same way a disappointed parent looked upon a child who had just said something stupid. 

He threw his arms wide like Christ himself and loudly asked, “Oh spirit, what do you demand for your departure?!” 

She placed her thumb in her mouth as her head cocked to the left in a look the priest’s brothers would have called lecherous and said, “Help satiate my bodily desires. I need only a modest amount of mana”. She let her mouth hang open as a long slimy tongue rolled out and hung between her modest chest. 

The priest ran over to the camera and held his face a foot from the lens “Woah Christ-chads and god-faring guys, she’s trying to steal my wizardhood and my purity of god! Let’s find another way.” 

The ghost elf looked at him and the camera with disdain as he seemingly spoke to himself.

He ran back to the center of the circle and cleared his throat before he again threw his arms wide and asked, “Oh spirit, how else can I help your departure?”

The spirit looked to have given up with the situation and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She muttered “To think I could have asked such a thing from an ignorant human…” as she floated off further into the manor. 

The priest ran back to the camera again and picked it up. Rustling and scratching obscure several of his words until he could be heard again. “Alright guys, she’s clearly not a normal spirit so a typical exorcism might not work. We gotta follow her and find out more about her!”


The footage cuts as the camera is quickly taken by the pursuing priest. 


The tape quickly resumed to show the priest pointing, with mouth agape, into a disheveled bedroom. He loudly said “Woah guys I think I hear the ghost” as the elf ghost sat on the old bed in full view with an annoyed look on her face. 


The tape cuts again to another scene where the priest held a spirit box, a type of rapidly-switching radio that is touted to allow communication for ghosts. The box rapidly scanned through the available radio channels and produced a flicking static noise as he held it aloft. For a moment, the amalgam of radio broadcasts lurched through populated frequencies and almost sounded as if someone had said “It’s cold in here”. The priest excitedly pointed the camera to the spirit box and loudly said, “Wow guys, we’re getting some real communication here!”. When the camera pans back to the dilapidated hallway, the elf ghost looked frustrated and stood with arms crossed, “I’m not speaking through that thing, I’m right here! Human, what is wrong with you?” 


The tape faded to a new clip. The priest held a magnetometer in his hand that was advertised to detect magnetic strength. He walked through a second-story hallway with wooden floors warped by time and moisture, which creaked with every step. The magnetometer began to beep as he drew closer to a storage closet. “Woah guys… we might have stumbled on something of significance to the ghost!” He exclaimed as he rushed across the creaking floor to the closet. He slowly opened the aged door and revealed Victorian dolls. Dolls lined the shelves and each of them, with the scraping sound of porcelain on porcelain, locked their fake eyes upon him. The priest paid them no mind as he scanned over each of them until a single doll set off the magnetometer. “Wow guys, this doll must have belonged to the ghost!”.

The elf ghost’s face lurched out from the wall and knocked several of the dolls forward. “Are you not scared? Do these meaningless dolls not frighten you?” She yelled.

The priest shrugged and began to put the magnetometer away. “The gods have forsaken me with an idiot that I can’t even entertain myself with” she said as she emerged from the wall fully and began to float down the hallway. The camera panned over as she began to angrily knock vases and tables over in her path. It wasn’t helped by the priest loudly declaring to the camera, “Sweet, we got some real communication now guys.” 


The camera caught three frames of a vase hurled at the priest when the footage stopped. Several minutes of dark static played until sounds of broken pottery and grunting broke through the static. The video went black and then began to resume in it’s green tinted view. 


The priest was on the ground in view of the sideways camera as he wiped dust and pottery fragments off himself to the floor. He stood up and picked up the camera. He brought himself into view and placed the camera on a nearby shelf in the hallway. He backed away to show the camera the cuts and dust he had across his robes. “Well… I guess it’s time to start a full-force exorcism before this becomes dangerous…”


The video cuts again. The priest held the camera in hand as he drew out a larger and more detailed summoning circle. As he drew runes of exorcism, over the sounds of chalk grit on old wood, could be heard the troubled wails of an elven maiden. The drawing ceased for a moment as the priest sighed and panned the camera to the distraught elven ghost who sat just outside the circle. “Please… just don’t send me off! I will do anything!” she pleaded.

“Sorry, getting paid to finish this, plus you threw a vase at me.” The priest said dryly as he continued to write. 

“Please, have mercy in your heart. I lived trapped in my world as a pauper, sold and sacrificed for a ritual only to be trapped here! I never truly lived, please just let me have more time!” 

The priest continued his sigil-drawing but slowed slightly. “I’m sorry, I need to do this. Sponsors can’t be rejected once you take them.” 

The priest stood in the fully formed ritual circle and began to recite a latin phrase. His golden aura began to build as the frantic elf ghost began to drag herself into the circle against the evident force thrown out by the ritual. The priest, enraptured in his ritual, did not notice as the ghost girl clawed against the holy powers at work inch by inch with extreme effort. The camera didn’t capture what happened next, but the priest would remember it for the rest of his life.

The priest, mid chant, felt moisture in his loins. He stuttered over his words and his holy aura began to fade as he looked down to see the ghost girl bobbing through his black pants. It felt to him as if she had twisted her long tongue around his manhood and had taken his length in her mouth. More impressively, she had phased through his pants to perform the act. 

He yelled out in defeat as the ghost lewdly sucked at his brimming juices. “Mine body be sullied by feminine touch!” He cried. The golden cross on his neck rapidly tarnished with unnatural chemistry and appeared as a black metal rather than the holy color of gold. The ghost girl’s ectoplasm began to soak into his pants as she phased in and out of his pants, lewd and loud sucking noises came from underneath the fabric. His manhood, against his will, had engorged and bent to the whim of the temptress that acted upon him. He could feel the welling power of his unused mana that built within him more and more, demanding imminent release! It burst free, his body let a lifetime of built-up desire flow free into the greedy form of the ghost girl. He could see in her eyes a primal and undeniable pleasure as she absorbed every morsel of both his fluid and mana that she had so expertly extracted. 

The fallen priest felt his knees grow weak as he began to literally fall. His body, racked by desire, temptation and lust had given out. His mind faded as he hit the floor in a stupor of unending pleasure. Wave after wave of spasming release washed over him as he twitched on the floor. The experience had taxed him greatly and he began to slip into unconsciousness. 

The priest awoke in an ancient bed that smelled of mothballs and ectoplasm. He began to sit up, only to find a fairly solid ghost hand to push him back down. He felt his pants had been removed and he lay at full mast as the ghost girl straddled him. “You might have fallen, priest, but that means you can keep me company in purgatory.” She smiled while she pressed her wet entrance along his shaft. Craige couldn’t understand what he felt as uncontrolled and pent-up lust filled his body. His heart raced with a desire he had never felt before, his mind loved this girl for the release he had experienced, but he hated his fall. She continued to tease his shaft when her lips found his and she washed away the anger that lingered in his mind with a passionate kiss. Her tongue began to fill his mouth as her taste added fuel to the unrelenting fire of his lust. She slid her moistened loins across his and teased her entrance with his tip. Craige almost bucked to enter but her firm perch held him down. She slowly lowered herself onto him as he felt the wet velvety interior engulf him. He could feel his very essence mixing with hers, their connection now went beyond physical as the energies of their spirits mixed in the throws of lovemaking. She released him from the kiss and leaned back as she bounced on his manhood. That few minutes felt like an eternity spent together between the fallen priest and the ghost as their magically charged throws neared it’s end. The buildup of magic and seed began in the priest. The ghost could feel it as well, her body craved the mana dearly as she rode him more desperately. Neither of them could outlast their desires as he washed mana and seed deep inside the ghost. She quickly absorbed both and licked her lips at the sensation. She let her fairly solid form fall onto him and she nuzzled at his neck. 

“Please… I can’t leave this place. Take me with you” She said, arms wrapped tightly around the absentminded fallen priest. His mind was enthralled by the sensation of lovemaking and his whole body had felt as if it no longer responded to his commands. He weakly said, “I… I can’t cast holy magic anymore…. but I can bind you to myself.”

The ghost kisses at his neck. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to be banished. I trust you will do what you can now.” 

The fallen priest weakly took his tarnished necklace and held it up for the ghost, who touched it. He simply said “Adiuro te mihi.” as the necklace began to glow softly with the same cool white as the ghost. 

She smiled and nuzzled further into the fallen priest. He let out a held breath, “I think I love you…”

Joseph’s carriage had just arrived in the town of Aldvenon. He was quite excited to be back in a town that had internet access, where he could catch up on his favorite shows, touch base with his guild and take his mind off the hostile lands he roamed for trade.

He had been slightly disappointed to find out Priest Craige’s Exorcism show, Exorcism by Craige, had rebranded to Craige Danger, Ghostfucker. Nonetheless, he clicked on the latest video titled “My ghost gf helps me in a three-way against a woodland sprite?”

1 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 51 vote, average: 5.00 out of 5 (1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
You need to be a registered member to rate this post.

0 thoughts on “The Exorcist’s Fall

Leave a Reply