Beyond Priests and Demons: A New Wave of Possession Novels in the 21st Century
By Cassandra O’Sullivan Sachar, Ed.D., M.F.A.
Introduction
In the 1960s and 1970s, three novels involving Satanic activity and/or demonic possession took the country—the world, really—by storm: Rosemary’s Baby, The Exorcist, and The Omen. While all three boast unique plots and round, well-developed characters, the trio shares a strong commonality: The horror is rooted in Catholicism. The popular movie versions of the novels invited a slew of additional films focusing on priests and demons through the decades, from The Amityville Horror in the 1970s to The Pope’s Exorcist and Immaculate in 2024.
As much as Catholic horror continues to intrigue fans, the Catholic church has condemned books and films they perceive as blasphemous (Swift), and critics have bemoaned the predictable nature of creations that recycle the plots of their predecessors while adding little that is new or different (Hesse). In general, there are two main storylines: A Bible verse-spewing priest fights a person possessed by a demon (doing its own spewing—of vomit), or a young, innocent person is abused by the church or a Satanic cult.
Though the last century’s works like The Exorcist should continue to be revered for what they brought to the horror genre (Corbeil), modern novelists have added their own spin on the possession trope, bypassing or minimizing the ever-popular Catholic focus. Through possessed dogs (Nick Roberts’s Mean Spirited), song lyrics and inside jokes rather than prayers to exorcise a demon (Grady Hendrix’s My Best Friend’s Exorcism), a bickering host/demon combination (Elizabeth J. Brown’s The Laughing Policeman), and more, the authors breathe fresh and interesting life into stories about possession.
The Big Three
In a discussion of Catholic horror and possession, it would be remiss to skim over the three earlier works that have both frightened and entranced fans for generations.
In Ira Levin’s Rosemary’s Baby (1967), Rosemary Woodhouse transforms from a young people pleaser to a fierce warrior fighting against—but ultimately succumbing to—evil. At the beginning of the book, Rosemary is content to exist as background furniture to her husband Guy, an up-and-coming actor. Raised Catholic in Nebraska, she left her family and religion behind for Guy and New York City. Her main goals include decorating her new apartment, supporting her husband’s expanding ego, and getting pregnant. Levin quickly introduces us to the Castevets, Rosemary’s elderly neighbors, who are wolves in sheep’s clothing. Though they appear harmless if overbearing, this couldn’t be farther from the truth. Rosemary is swept up in a scheme of devil worship that involves a drugged conception and a hell of a lot of gaslighting by just about everyone who claims to care about her. Try as she might to escape, the true terror, of course, is growing inside her, for she is ripe with Satan’s spawn.
Most central to the possession theme is William Peter Blatty’s The Exorcist (1971), which juxtaposes the contradiction of an innocent child with an evil demon. Though the title clearly denotes the subject matter addressed, Blatty leaves questions for the reader to decipher as to whether or not the possession is real. Even Father Karras, the Jesuit priest whom the afflicted child’s mother has called upon for help, has his doubts, wondering if there’s a split personality or if Regan has access to information the supposed demon knows and is tricking everyone. Blatty provides us with everything we have come to associate with demonic possession, including vomiting, inappropriate behavior, urinating, speaking Latin, a levitating bed, murder, and superhuman strength. To provide this verisimilitude, Blatty researched the journals of and interviewed priests who performed the well-documented exorcism of a 13-year-old boy known as Roland Doe in 1949 (Martin). Even though this work was considered original at the time, something that distinguishes it from the legions of possession stories that follow is the manner in which Blatty developed the character of Karras. Rather than using him as a vehicle to simply fight the evil, Blatty depicts Karras as a discerning man of science who doesn’t blindly assume possession at the beginning. Grappling with his own faith, he desperately wants to help but is meticulous in ruling out other causes first.
David Seltzer’s novel The Omen (1976) and the film based on his screenplay of the same title were released weeks apart, causing a splash to readers and viewers alike. Combining elements present in Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist, the evil resides within a child, the main character’s adopted son, Damien. Wealthy diplomat Jeremy Thorn (Robert in the movie) is a good man desperate to save his family, but it is all for naught. Taking the “creepy child” trope to the next level while adding in electrifying details such as a hidden Satanic cult within the church and bloodthirsty hellhounds, Seltzer spares no one in Damien’s path from shocking violence and destruction. In the battle between nature and nurture, no amount of parental love can hold a candle to the Satanic blood coursing through Damien’s veins. After all, that 666 birthmark means he is the Antichrist, and there is no saving him … let alone saving anyone from him.
Transcending Possession Tropes
For those who enjoy possession stories but have become fatigued by the scores of priests and demons gallivanting across our pages and screens, I have a number of recommendations by modern authors. I will refrain from spoilers as much as possible and just give a taste to whet your appetite.
Nick Roberts’s Mean Spirited (2024) begins with a frightening death scene and quickly moves on to focus on an English teacher, Matt, whose life is falling apart. When he takes in the dead person’s dog, little does he know the baggage that will come with the poor beast, Conehead. Though Matt has his own inner “demons”—he struggles with alcoholism, which ruined his marriage and has affected his relationship with (and custody of) his son—Roberts takes the reader on a wild ride that manages to be both heartfelt and terrifying, all the while avoiding reliance on holy water and Bible verses.
Desiree Horton’s Midnight Mother (2024) is more about healing from family trauma than possession, but it’s an important backdrop to the story. First-person narrator Leda and her estranged brother must work together to clean up their mother’s house after they learn of her death. The siblings have difficult memories of their experience growing up together before a series of tragic events separated them. Horton includes familiar possession signifiers such as the smell of rotten eggs, levitation, and speaking in a different voice, but the novel goes far beyond these tropes with mysterious bargains in a cave as well as touching renditions of reconciliation and forgiveness.
Grady Hendrix’s My Best Friend’s Exorcism (2016) strikes me as a cross between Mean Girls and The Exorcist, and the title showcases this playful take on a serious topic. When Abby’s best friend Gretchen begins exhibiting strange behavior, Abby searches for answers. Though both a priest and exorcist appear within these pages, there’s much, much more, including plenty of fun ’80s references from E.T. to music (especially Phil Collins). Ultimately, this is a heartwarming tale about the power of female friendship.
In A Head Full of Ghosts (2015), Paul Tremblay proves that characters need to be well-developed to make them sympathetic and believable in sensational situations. First-person narrator Merry recounts her past traumatic childhood. The reader sees how Merry’s young life quickly fell apart when her sister, Marjorie, started exhibiting behavior thought to be demonic possession. Whether Marjorie is faking or not, the reader is horrified by the description of the exorcism scene, one that manages to provide in-the-moment action while remaining serious and tactful, even as Marjorie bites down on the priest’s arm and mangles his flesh. Despite this grisly account, this book manages to be a beautiful story about the human condition, easily outpacing possession tropes.
In Elizabeth J. Brown’s The Laughing Policeman (2022), Detective Constable Stephen Anderson’s quest for revenge spirals out of control when he is stabbed with a dagger that transfers a demon into his body. Unlike many possession stories, Stephen and the demon (mostly) coexist at the same time and freely communicate with each other, often griping like a supernatural version of Felix and Oscar in The Odd Couple (1970-1975). Stephen tussles for his humanity as the darkness takes over, and his old friend, former detective Charlie Haynes, must make tough decisions to save the innocent lives threatened by the demon’s bloodlust. Brown strikes both sympathy for and fear in the reader through her portrayal of Stephen, crafting a morally gray character whom we root both for and against in almost equal measure.
I have long been fascinated by possession but wanted to avoid treading too closely in that which has been done before in my psychological horror novella Close the Door (2025). Struggling single mom, Natalie, accidentally opens a door to another realm during the meditation component of a yoga class. After she begins experiencing blackouts, Natalie quickly surmises that something is wrong, though she has no idea what’s in store for her. Avoiding priests and demons, I have attempted to craft a work that explores the terror of bodily possession by an unknown force in a different way. Everything else is a major spoiler, so I will simply challenge you to read it for yourself to decide if I’ve transcended the trope or not!
Years and even decades later, many of us remember the impact of watching Regan’s head spin around in William Friedkin’s The Exorcist. Still, there are new and interesting places writers can take us through possession.
Works Cited
Blatty, William Peter. The Exorcist. Harper & Row, 1971.
Brown, Elizabeth J. The Laughing Policeman. Kobold Books, 2022.
Corbeil, Shannon. “How William Friedkin’s The Exorcist became a Haunting Landmark in Horror Film.” ScreenCraft, 9 Aug. 2023, screencraft.org/blog/how-william-friedkins-the-exorcist-became-a-haunting-landmark-in-horror-film/.
Hendrix, Grady. My Best Friend’s Exorcism. Quirk Books, 2016.
Hesse, Josiah. “Why Are So Many Horror Films Christian Propaganda?” Vice, 19 Oct. 2016, http://www.vice.com/en/article/why-are-so-many-horror-films-christian-propaganda/.
Horton, Desiree. Midnight Mother. Baynam Books Press, 2024.
Levin, Ira. Rosemary’s Baby. Random House, 1967.
Martin, Emily. “Roland Doe: The Chilling True Story that Inspired The Exorcist.” Novel Suspects, 2025, http://www.novelsuspects.com/articles/roland-doe/. Accessed 1 Mar. 2025.
Roberts, Nick. Mean Spirited. Crystal Lake Publishing, 2024.
Sachar, Cassandra O’Sullivan. Close the Door. Baynam Books Press, 2025.
Seltzer, David. The Omen. Signet, 1976.
Swift, James. “Ten Horror Films Condemned by the Catholic Church.” Wicked Horror, 2 June 2024, wickedhorror.com/top-horror-lists/ten-horror-films-condemned-by-the-catholic-church/.
Tremblay, Paul. A Head Full of Ghosts. HarperCollins Publishers, 2015.
AUTHOR BIO

Cassandra O’Sullivan Sachar is a writer and associate English professor in Pennsylvania who teaches creative writing, composition, and composition theory courses. A former secondary English teacher in Delaware public schools, she received her Doctorate of Education with a Literacy Specialization from the University of Delaware and her MFA in Creative Writing with a focus on horror fiction from Wilkes University. She has curated and edited the Bram Stoker Award-nominated multi-author volume on horror scholarship No More Haunted Dolls: Horror Fiction that Transcends the Tropes (Vernon Press, 2024) and the horror anthology Wicked Universe: A Wicked House Publishing Anthology (Wicked House Publishing, 2024). She has served as the fiction editor for River & South Review and is taking over as co-editor-in-chief and creative prose editor of Pennsylvania English.
Sachar has authored the Regal Summit Book Award-winning dark suspense novel Darkness There but Something More (Wicked House Publishing, 2024), the short horror story collection Keeper of Corpses and Other Dark Tales (Velox Books, 2024), the middle-grade mystery The Hidden Diary (Baynam Books Press, 2024), the horror novella Close the Door (Baynam Books Press, 2025), and the young adult thriller Lake of Secrets (Horrorsmith Publishing, 2025). A member of the Horror Writers Association, she has written dozens of short horror stories and essays that have appeared in publications including The Horror Zine, Wyldblood Magazine, HorrorAddicts.net, The Chamber Magazine, and Tales from the Moonlit Path. Read her work at https://cassandraosullivansachar.com/.



