Father Thomas Garrity is a Catholic priest who unexpectedly comes face to face with a horrific demon. Through fate or demonic manipulation, he winds up substituting for a prison chaplain who mysteriously committed suicide and was counseling a serial killer condemned on death row. Garrity meets with the convict, who at first is mute, and then becomes all too talkative, claiming to be a demon. A naïve Father Garrity assumes he is dealing with a schizophrenic. Truly possessed by the demon Furfur, the inmate begins his attack on Father Garrity. As all Catholic priests, Garrity is uneducated and unskilled at confronting the supernatural, much less a demon. This demon is intent on destroying Garity's faith in God through any means possible. The one problem is that this "inmate" will be executed in a week, so time is of the essence. At first Garrity thinks that he must only survive until the execution, but then finds he will become hunted afterward by a demon that will transfer to a whole new body. Furfur, a documented fallen angel taken from demonology, initially attempts to overwhelm Garrity with his knowledge and history. Failing, he escalates his efforts to violence, and eventually murders. Father Garrity, as all common parish priests, is inexperienced, but is desperate to defeat this demon, even though his path is crammed with obstacles. He is surrounded by non-believers and a Catholic organization that has created an impossible bureaucracy which frowns on the very mention of exorcism. The demon Furfur intends to deliver the soul of this convict to hell and then transfer himself to another person and continue to torment the priest. Father Garrity finds that Furfur, in documented demonology, ranks high in the hierarchy of hell and has 150,000 demons at his command. Although in prison, Furfur can torture the priest through hurting those close to him simply by using his legions.

Banished

A Demon, an Exorcist and A Battle of FaithBy Edwin F. Becker

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Edwin F. Becker
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-9663-6

Chapter One

Mrs. Polski walked along busy Ashland Ave. carrying her old cloth shopping bag, as she has done for decades. She paused for a moment to rest, and the cold air, combined with the harsh Chicago wind, made her eyes water a bit. She glanced upward, and thought she glimpsed a gargoyle cornerstone on the side of the building where she stood. Except, unlike stone, it seemed to actually move.

'Impossible ...' she thought, as she was at the corner of Saint Martin's school. She wiped her eyes and gazed up the four story building and gasped, as now she could clearly see the figure of a priest who was seemingly defying gravity and leaning forward from the edge of the roof. Although four stories up, she recognized him to be Father Garro, a parish priest! She rifled through her purse and quickly grabbed her cell phone and dialed 911. The dispatcher asked "911, how can I help you?"

Mrs. Polski was speechless as she heard the priest loudly plead "God forgive me!" She watched in horror as he began his fatal decent.

As the dispatcher repeated her question, Mrs. Polski remained silent as she looked away; she could not bear to see Father Garro collide with the concrete pavement. When she caught her breath, she managed to say "Please send an ambulance!" and gave her location. She covered her face and began to weep hysterically. Within a few minutes, police and paramedics were on the scene and the body was quickly covered.

Only a block away, the phone rang at Saint Martin's rectory and Father Garrity answered. "Father, this is detective Simon. Father Garro has died. It appears he fell or jumped from the school roof. That is all we know at this time."

"Oh my God!" Garrity responded in shock.

"I'm sorry Father. I'll have your brother inform you further as soon as possible."

"Thank you detective ..." Garrity hung up the phone and ran to the window. He could see the flashing lights down the block. "Margaret!" He yelled behind him.

Margaret entered, and realized by his body language that the priest had received bad news. "Yes, Father?"

"Did Father Garro have anything scheduled on his calendar this evening?"

"Yes, he was to be at Menard Prison. He is committed to counseling a convict to be executed. He is to be there at 7 P.M."

Father Garrity shook his head as if shaking off a punch. "I'll be covering for him tonight." He replied quietly.

He checked his watch and began gathering his things. He had never visited the prison, but felt it no different than counseling any other parishioner. He was completely unaware that he was about to open a door he could not close.

* * *

They sat on opposite sides of the room just staring at each other, the priest and a serial killer. The serial killer remained silent while watching the clock, draped in chains and shackles, while the priest attempted awkwardly to make pleasant conversation.

"Can I get you anything?" Father Garrity asked, with no response. "Would you like to pray for forgiveness?" Once again, there was no response or change in expression by the convict; just a fixed expression of boredom.

The priest was apologetic. "I'm sorry, my son, as I have never done this before. I'm not sure if you know this, but Father Garro passed away tonight. I became responsible to take his place. I realize we only have a week until your execution, but a week is more than enough time to regain God's grace. My parish is actually close by, so although I'm only committed to being here for one hour each day, if you call for me I will try to be here whenever you need me."

The serial killer just stared straight ahead without showing emotion or even acknowledging the priest's presence. To the priest, the convict looked more pathetic than dangerous. He appeared slight of build, clean shaven, and weighed down with chains that looked completely unnecessary. Father Garrity did not discount the fact that he was face to face with a serial killer, but took into account he killed only women and children and did not look much of a threat to a grown man.

"Do you wish me to leave?" Father asked.

Again, there was no response, just a vacant stare.

Father Garrity lacked the skills of being in the position of counseling such a hard core criminal, so his only weapon was his sense of humor.

"Cat got your tongue?" Garrity joked. "Okay, I get it. You don't wish to talk. I get it, I get it." Father Garrity gave up of any hope of interaction on this first visit. "Since we won't be talking on this visit, I will just read from the bible. I know from reviewing your history that you were Christened Catholic, so do you have a favorite chapter or verse?" The priest asked.

He knew asking was merely a formality, and had expected no response. As he opened his bible, the warden looked in. He was a huge man with a shock of red hair that you could see coming a block away. Warden Donald Thorton never minced words, and knew Father Garrity, as they had attended high school together. Father Garrity knew him as "Buddy", as they had both played varsity football and that had been his knick-name. The warden knew Father Thomas Garrity as Tommy, and always referred to him informally as such.

"Tommy, I give you credit for wasting your time on this piece of shit." Buddy stated bluntly.

Father Garrity smiled. "Hey, you need a priest-I came. With our little parish, I really had no major rescheduling to do."

The warden looked down. "I'm really sorry about Father Garro. Phil was just a great priest. As you know, Father Garro had been doing this for years. He really had compassion for each convict he worked with, and mistakenly thought he could save each and every one of them. When they called me, I could hardly believe it. I would have never guessed him as being suicidal. I mean, Tommy ... suicide? It doesn't make sense. He committed a mortal sin as his final act, for God's sake!"

"Buddy, I don't have the answer. I knew Father Garro fairly well and certainly never saw it coming. In fact, I have not yet heard the exact details of his death, but I will tonight when my brother Bobby stops by." Garrity replied.

Warden Thorton looked toward the serial killer, and thought he detected a slight grin.

"Something strike you funny, you bag of garbage? You can play tough all you want. I have seen many of your kind. In the end, they all fall apart. You can sit there and ignore Father Garrity if you like, but we all know that sometime in the next week, you'll be praying like a monk on crack and crying for your mama! You should know, Father, that Mister Richard Gindle is so tough that he only killed helpless women and children. Tell the good Father how you killed at least twenty-one innocent people. You have fun Father, but this one is going to hell and you can't save him. There is a special place in hell for you, Richard. If I were you, I would pay attention to Father Thomas Garrity, because he is the only one who gives a shit."

"Warden Thorton, thank you." The priest replied.

"This is a long way from the varsity football beer blasts, eh Tommy? Would you have thought you would someday volunteer to sit in a damned prison?" The warden asked.

"Not a chance in hell. How is the family, Buddy?" Garrity asked.

"Doing great, Tommy." The Warden replied.

"Not to put you on the spot, but I have not...