The Banishing

by Fiona Dodwell

  “I’m not sure I need the house blessing,” Melissa said, leaning forward. She took the last mouthful of her drink and looked into his eyes. “Grace wrote something. I don’t know if it will work or what it even is, but she seemed to think that something called ‘the banishing ritual’ might work.”

  Father Owens’s face fell, and his skin went ashen under the kitchen light. His eyes widened. “Where did you hear about that?” he asked.

  “I told you. It was something Grace wrote. Why? What is it?”

  “What it is, dear,” the priest said, his eyes hardening, “is the worst thing you could do. The banishing ritual is just about the worst thing anybody could do to another.”

  Melissa felt a surge of resentment. “I need your help, and if this banishing thing will work, I will try it.”

  “Are you prepared to pay the price? The price is very dear. I don’t think I should even tell you. You are obviously in a great deal of distress. You’re not thinking straight as it is, and I—”

  “I need help! For God’s sake! I will try anything. Just tell me!” Melissa saw the priest flinch as she snapped at him, and she felt a pang of guilt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that. Please, tell me. I need to know. It might be my only option.”

  “What about an exorcism? I told you, if we can build a case for that—”

  “No time!” Melissa retorted. She felt a thread of anger rise within her, and she tried desperately to swallow it. Annoying the priest would do nothing. “There’s no time. Do you know how bad things are getting? The things Mark does to me…you wouldn’t believe it. I can’t wait. I will end up dead, I swear.”

  Father Owen turned and stared out of the kitchen window. Rain still fell heavily, smacking noisily against the glass. The wind rattled against the house, battling against the walls and foundations of the building. “The banishing ritual is an old one. Goes back many years. There is a reason people don’t use it much. It means taking your suffering and passing it onto somebody else, and that is something I personally wouldn’t want to do. Each thing we do, it has consequences—both here and in the afterlife.”

  “I know.” Melissa nodded, understanding what he was saying was true, but also knowing that she was desperate enough to try anything.

  “The banishing ritual involves making a pact with the demon.”

  Melissa shuddered against the words, feeling an icy shiver travel the length of her spine. “A pact?”

  The priest nodded. “The demon wants a host. Somebody to control, to inhabit, in order to cause whatever pain and chaos it can cause. It is intelligent and can be bargained with. It wants you and your husband here to cause you both pain and to separate you. Therefore, it won’t let you go just like that. The only way it will let go is if you make a deal to bring it a new host. It‘s like a sacrifice of sorts. A demonic form of the sacrifice that Christ himself made for us on the cross.”

  “A host? You mean bring it someone else to…possess?”

  Father Owen nodded. “That’s the essence of the banishing ritual. You are banishing it from your life, from your husband, but it will only let that happen on the condition that you bring someone else into the home for it to carry on its...existence of evil. Demons love that. They love seeing the evil they can force upon mankind….the things people will do! People will do almost anything to save themselves and the people they love. Exactly the kind of desperation a demon would feed off of.”

  Melissa felt numb. It all seemed so…implausible, ridiculous. “I don’t see how I could…I mean…what would happen if I moved away? With Mark?”

  “Melissa, its hold on Mark is so strong, I doubt it would let him leave. I think...” Father Owen faltered, his eyes lowering to the floor. “I think it would rather have Mark dead than let him go. Demons will do anything, believe me. The power supply, so to speak, seems to be this house, where Sebastian Harping first summoned it from the bowels of Hell. It made its home here. I think you’d have to get Mark out and bring a new host here—where the demon first came into this world. That’s the only way I can see it working. Grace once looked into the history of this house... sometimes people who tried to pack up and leave have been hurt or even died, Melissa. It won’t let people go - not easily.” The priest’s voice trailed into uncomfortable silence, then he said, “I think it would break Mark’s mind, make him lose his sanity or...as I said, possibly kill him, rather than let him walk out that door. The demon will not want to lose, Melissa. It will remain here, keeping Mark with him...unless...”

  “Unless I pass it to somebody else. Bring them here, into the home, you mean.”

  “Exactly. Somebody you know, somebody you care about.”

  Melissa looked up, widening her eyes. “Someone I care about? Why does it have to be that way? Are you serious?”

  The priest leaned forward, placing one cold hand onto Melissa’s arm. “As I said earlier, evil enjoys evil. It does what it can to make you do things you never thought you‘d do...It delights in hurting people. In chaos. In tearing lives apart. I’ve read cases before, where people have done the Banishing ritual...in most cases it works, but it’s a cost no one can afford to pay. You are in effect handing over this living hell to somebody you care about.”

  Melissa fell quiet, trying to steady the swirling thoughts in her mind. “I just don‘t know!”

  Father Owen shook his head in disbelief. “I told you all of this, but I shouldn’t have, should I? Please tell me you’re not suggesting you’d really go through with that?”

  “What choice do I have?” she looked up, her eyes pleading.

  “Let God be the judge, then,” Father Owen said, shaking his head. He looked dejected, frustrated.

  “Yes, let Him be the judge! Look where I am. The hell I am in. I didn’t deserve this. Mark doesn’t, either. You’re not married, Father. You don’t know. I love Mark with all my heart. He has been my best friend...Since my parents died, I’ve had no one, really...” her voice trailed off, and she wiped at tears. “I’m sorry, but yes. I will do what I have to do.”

  “You already said Mark won’t move. You’d need him out to bring the new host in.”

  “I have to try. Mark’s life could be in danger. His life—our marriage—is in my hands.”

  The priest took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “The choice is yours.”

  “What is the ritual?” Melissa asked, desperate to know all she needed to know.

  “What?”

  “The thing I need to actually do? If I get Mark away and everything, and I manage to find somebody to take this place, what do I actually need to do? What is the ritual?”

  Father Owen stood up and began buttoning up his coat. “You have to light six candles. You have to do it alone. Six candles. Call upon the demon. Just summon it. State your deal, what you want, and then you have to spill your blood, one drop on each of the six candles. Six is the Evil One’s number, as you know. You must let each candle burn down to the wick, don’t blow them out, because the candles are the symbol of the deal. On the table, place a piece of paper with the name of the person it can have. Or a photo. Sometimes, a photo can be more powerful. Once the candles are out, the deal is done, and the demon will wait for its next host.”

  “It’s that easy?” Melissa said, standing up and following the priest into the hallway.

  He paused by the front door and turned back to her. “I never said it was easy, did I? People have been more frightened by things they see and hear in that ritual than they were in the demonic haunting itself, Melissa. I say to you now, if you do this, may God be on your side, because you are paying a very high price.”

  “For my marriage,” Melissa gasped, blinking away tears and fear suddenly filling her bones and blood.

  “Even Grace obviously couldn’t go through with this,” Father Owen said, stepping outside. Rain pelted in
heavy sheets across the air, and he put his hat on, waving goodbye as he went.

  Melissa watched him go, then closed the front door behind him.

  She knew what she had to do. Wouldn’t Mark do it for her?

  She ran to find her mobile phone. She had to speak to Josh.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Melissa sat quietly on the sofa, the mobile phone lying in her lap. She suddenly didn’t know what to do. It seemed to her, as she stared at the phone, that she didn’t have much choice.

  The banishing ritual might stop the hell she was living through, might stop her husband from getting…worse, if that was possible.

  Something had to change. It had to end.

  Melissa lifted the phone, punched in Josh’s number, and waited for him to answer. After four rings, he did.

  “Hello?”

  “Josh, it’s me.”

  “Hi, Melissa. I was going to call you, today. How are you?”

  “Long story,” she said, unable to bring herself to say anything about what she had learned, about what she was about to do. She didn’t have the energy. Besides, Josh would laugh at her. Banishing rituals? Possession? He’d already shown that he was more than skeptical about it all, and she couldn’t hear that right now.

  “I’m calling, because I need to see you, tonight.”

  “You do?” he asked.

  “Yes, are you free?”

  “For a drink? For you, anytime,” he said with a breezy laugh.

  Melissa fell silent. “Don’t. Please, I’m being serious. I need your help. Just be at my place at seven tonight. Don’t drink, because I’ll need you to drive.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Just promise you’ll be there. Do as I say, and I swear I’ll owe you my life.” She meant it.

  Josh sighed. “I can’t say no to that. I’ll be there.”

  Melissa thanked him and disconnected the call.

  Now, she needed to head into town, again and find some sleeping tablets.

  * * * *

  The plan sounded perfect in her head, but doing it would be, could be, something else entirely. She knew that.

  Mark would get home around six. Melissa would give him a drink of something—and in it, she would add sleeping pills. A safe amount, but enough to wipe him out. She knew what the limit should be. There had been helpful things she had come to learn while working at the ICU.

  Mark would be out like a light.

  Then, Josh—if there was any part of him capable of helping her out with this—would drive Mark to the nearest hotel and reserve a room for him, put him to bed, and leave him there to sleep it off. Mark wouldn’t know anything.

  Meanwhile, Melissa would have time to do the banishing ritual.

  The problem was the pact itself—the person to be offered to the demon instead of Mark. His replacement. Somebody she could have move in—even if just for a short while. It wouldn’t have to take long…hadn’t it only take a few weeks before Mark changed? The temper tantrums. Arguments. Then, the raised fists.

  The phone rang. It was Sharon.

  Melissa picked up the call, and then, all her answers came at once.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Why do you sound so happy?”

  Sharon’s good mood radiated down the line. “Jonathon!” she said, her voice light, happy.

  “What about him?” Melissa tried to remain calm, despite the storm raging in her head. She paced her lounge, the phone pressed to her ear.

  “I really think he could be the one.”

  Melissa smiled to herself. “Didn’t you say that about the last…two?”

  Sharon sighed. “Yeah, well. Third time lucky, right?”

  “I’m glad it’s going so well for you. I didn’t think it was anything, you know, serious.”

  “Neither did I, but he said those three magic words this morning, when I phoned him on my break.”

  “He told you he loved you?”

  Sharon burst into laughter, again, and Melissa couldn’t help but warm to the sound of her friend’s obvious happiness.

  “I’m so glad for you. Really. You deserve it.”

  Then, the idea came. The thought came. Unbidden. Almost forbidden, at first, but it settled itself into her mind, and Melissa spoke the thought aloud without thinking it further. “While we’re on the subject of you and Jonathon,” she said, her voice low and hesitant, “how long are two going to keep staying over at each other’s homes like lovesick teenagers? If it really is that serious, then maybe you should think about finding a place together.”

  Sharon paused. Silence down the line for a moment, then; “I don’t know. We haven’t really spoken much about it, but—”

  “Much?” Interrupted Melissa, trying to find a way to her opportunity. “He has mentioned it, then?”

  Sharon laughed. “Well, yeah he has but nothing definite. He just mentioned it in passing, and—”

  “Why don’t you grab the bull by the horns and bring it up to him?” Melissa said, more forcefully than she intended. Desperation spurred her on, and at the same time, a feeling of nausea swept over her. The betrayal of every word she was speaking stabbing at her conscience like knives. What am I becoming? How did I get here? She turned, looked over at the photograph of Mark, and felt a fresh wave of resolve. Wasn’t this what she had to do? Right now, wasn’t this a case of saving the man she loved?

  “I could do that, but there’s no rush,” Sharon said, breaking into Melissa’s thoughts.

  “My advice to you is don’t sit on this. Look what happened to the last two. I want this to work out for you. You can’t be afraid of commitment.”

  Sharon sighed heavily. “What is this? How did we even get onto the topic of moving in together?”

  Melissa reigned her thoughts and her words back, trying to remain calm and to dress her desperation in shrouds of casualness. “I just…Mark and I have been talking,” she lied, “and we decided that after all we’ve been through recently, we just want a new start. We’re talking about moving, and quickly. We just want to do it as quickly as possible.”

  “Mark wants to move, and so do you? Wasn’t that place the so-called house of your dreams?” Sharon retorted. Melissa picked up on the change in her friend’s tone. Was she sensing something wasn’t quite as it seemed?

  Melissa forced a laugh. “Yeah, well, a lot has happened between us, and I think we’re making amends. I just want to draw a line underneath it and start afresh, you know? So we’re looking for a quick move.”

  “Selling?” Sharon asked.

  “Renting the place out. Somebody can stay there…look after the place. You were the first person I thought of, actually. I thought things were going so well with you and Jonathon, now—”

  “I’m not sure. It’s a nice idea, but—”

  “It’d be cheap. It could be on a temporary basis, until you decide if you want to stay. If you want to stay, then I can lease it to you for as long as…well, whatever. If you decide you don’t want to stay, I suppose Mark and I could sell it or whatever…”

  Sharon was silent at the other end. Her silence felt like an ocean of eternity.

  Finally, Sharon broke the silence. “It is a nice place, I suppose. Are you sure this is definitely happening? There‘s no point in even considering this if you‘ll change your minds by tomorrow—”

  “Mark said he wants to. We want out any day now. We are letting the place furnished, too. Surely it’s better than your little one bedroom flat. I’ll match the price you’re paying on your flat,” Melissa ranted, desperate to convince her friend. What’s gotten into me? Melissa thought of her friend on the other end of the phone, remembering how she’d been there for her, a good friend. Could she do this to Sharon? The more worrying thought persisted, ugly a
nd ruthless in its truth: What would happen if she didn’t take this chance, if she didn’t ask Sharon to do this? How long did Mark have left before he lashed out and did…something more than what he’d already done. Melissa tried to mold the idea into something more manageable, but it was the undeniable truth. Mark could kill her. He could kill himself if this went on. How far can a demon take him? Can the road go on much further?

  Sharon sighed. “You’re seriously letting me have a two bedroom house with a garden and garage for $450 a month?”

  “Sure. Only because we want to get this done quickly. By the time we’d advertise it, pay agents fees, and everything else, it will take ages—and a lot of money. Mark can’t be bothered with all that. Besides, it’s only a temporary thing, right?”

  Sharon chuckled. “Shit. I don’t know. I’d have to talk to Jonathon about it. I mean, it’s a good offer and everything. It’s just I never exactly planned on this. Do you know what I mean? You kind of dumped it on me, Mel!”

  Melissa grimaced, stunned and unsure of what to say. The women were silent for a moment, then Sharon said, “Look, I’ll take it, if you’re sure. Even if Jonathon doesn’t come with me, I can still afford it. That’s if you’re sure you will accept $450 a month.”

  Can it work without Jonathon? Melissa didn’t know. The thought jutted in her mind, awkward and immobile. Would the demon touch Sharon if it couldn’t get Jonathon? “I’m sure he’d want to though, right?” Melissa pressed.

  “It would be lovely,” Sharon admitted. “Why don’t you give me an hour. I’m going to his place after work, and I’ll let you know what he says.”

  “Okay, but please get back to me as soon as you know. It’s kind of important. If you don‘t want it, I need to find someone else.”

  “Thanks, Mel,” Sharon said, and Melissa could feel her smile travel down the phone. “You’re a good friend, offering me the place first. Especially a house like that. You could easily get $600 a month for a house like that.”

  “What are friends for?” Melissa said, her face stony, flat, and lifeless.