Preacher Graphic Novels & Stories

For a moment, he just stood there with furrowed brows, his orbs fixed on the cover. “Zombies are Real?” he read, tapping his fingers on the book. Taking a deep breath, he averted his gaze to the books seated next to them. Using his free hand, he grabbed one. “Supernatural Being.” With his lips curled, he scanned them from back-to-front cover. Immediately after, his mind drifted without prior warning. Something about the titles probed his guts. He just didn’t know what. Should he believe these zombies and supernatural beings were true? If not, how could he explain what he’d seen the night before?

Trevor and I were still dwelling in silence. We dwelled in the silence till a preacher in the bus stood up. "Hello everyone. I am Gideon an ambassador for christ. " he began. Some of the passengers were murmuring. The ones who hissed were the unbelievers like me. The preacher seemed unbotherd so he continued with his quest as the likes of Trevor paid keen attention. Preacher Gideon went on to tell his assumed congregation about the love of christ, how infinite it was and how necessary it was for sinners to reconcile with God else they'll burn in hell. After his sermon of almost thirty minutes, he asked the passengers which a few were part of his congregation now to bow their head in prayer.

The newcomer shook his head topped with bleach blonde hair, “No, Preacher. The boys are still working on it.” “Are you all fucking insane?” The Preacher thundered, his scarred face ugly, “How long will it take you to get a fucking address, you fucking dead brains.” The newcomer gritted his teeth but remain silent. Suddenly the door opened and another man strolled in, a smirk on his face as he flipped his dark hair, “Preacher, what did this motherfucker do again?” The Preacher scowled, “The fucking numbskull still hasn’t gotten the address, fucking twat.” He spat.

You remember those? Blowing out a breath, he stuck out his hand. “Hi, sir. We haven’t met yet, which is a mistake I’m here to rectify. Pierce Walker.” The instant he spoke his name, the preacher’s face closed up. The man eyed him from the collar of his leather jacket to the tattoos peeking above the buttons of his shirt and down to the hard tips of his combat boots. Fuck. The suit that had gotten ruined last night would have gone over far better.

Preacher's slut, choking on sin. He leaned down, sucking a nipple through the dress fabric, teeth grazing. I bucked up, moaning loud, 'Mmm-ahh!' The risk amped it up....any second, someone could come down for supplies, or Dad might wonder where I was. 'Hurry...they can't know,' I panted, but my body begged for more. 'Let 'em hear the real gospel,' he rasped, pace brutal. Sweat dripped from his brow onto my cleavage. I felt him swell, close.

“When I was growing up, he used to quote Marx—telling me religion was the opium of the masses. On Sundays, we’d take the bus from Kilburn to Hyde Park so he could heckle the preachers standing on their soapboxes.” A faint smile flickered across his face. “There was one preacher who looked like Captain Ahab, long white hair tied back, booming voice. ‘The Lord will repay the wages of sin with eternal death,’ he said, staring right at me. And Dad shouted back, ‘Do you know the difference between a preacher and a psychotic?’ Then he answered his own question—‘It’s the sound of the voice they hear.’ Everyone laughed except the preacher. He puffed up like a blowfish. Then Dad said, ‘Is it true you

“Preacher, you want to do the honors?” “You know it,” the man with the giant crucifix tattooed on his shaved head growled. Wolf knew that Preacher Hughes was the new Hellions VP, and he also knew that the man had a ridiculously annoying habit of quoting scripture to someone just before utterly fucking them up. He was a religious zealot, and Wolf thought that he was totally unstable, even considering that he existed in the MC world, where lunatics often ran the asylum. “Spread ‘em, Connor.” Wolf obliged silently, still locked in a stare-off with Viper. Preacher patted him down roughly, then looked over at his President.

True to her word, she was ready before I was. She was dressed simply, a knee length dress with a high neckline, but the woman could make a tow-sack look good. Heads turned and conversation slowed. I was greeted by my friends and introduced Jen, and then the sermon started. I liked the preacher we had now quite a bit. He was a much calmer person than the one that preceded him. That guy was all hell-fire and damnation. It wasn't long before we thought him unstable. He found out we were talking to the governing board about maybe transferring him and had a meltdown in the pulpit. The next sermon was almost impossible to understand, ending when he pulled a pistol out and started ranting about how

Reed chittered, his voice loud enough for us to hear. "What did he say?" Caleb asked. He said, "You are ranting too much, and you should go straight to your point." I explained, and he smiled softly. "Those men that attack us," he began, and I knew he was referring to the shadow black men. "They worked for a man named Preacher, and he was from Gaea." "Preacher or priest?" I asked to be sure.

THE PREACHER'S SON ✝ Richee Jay✍🏽✍🏽 Episode One I sat on the front row,listening to Dad preach against sin with all act of seriousness. I could feel the word 'sin' disgusted my father, and listening to his words gave me goosebumps. Being a preacher's only child came with responsibilities and expectations. I lived by dad's rules. I rarely lied, I never stole, I read my bible every single day, just as a pastor's son should. But still, I have one problem.