Priest Novels & Stories

I asked. Something moved in his face. “I thought you might prefer one,” he said carefully. “You thought correctly.” He turned and nodded to Victor who crossed to the official door and knocked twice. It opened. A priest stepped out — older, small, with the particular patience of someone called to perform an unusual service and having decided that unusual services were still services. He looked at us. He looked at Luca. He looked at me. “Ready?” he asked mildly. I looked at Luca. Luca looked at me. “Yes,” I said.

answered the Serviteur Noir. "So could I let the old man come back?" asked the priest. "You're too nice, Christopher." said the serviteur. "B-but we must not let our brother be treated with such-" but then his superior intercepted. "Then our brother will forgive us for our disturbances." said the serviteur as they left the area and went outside. The priest followed his superior outside to see a carriage filled with sacks of soil. He wanted to ask what they were going to be used for but was too afraid to speak up.

Almost hypnotised by the sight of it, a blur of black smeared the edge of my vision, and I glanced across the road to see a priest crossing in front of a gelato parlour, a tan leather satchel clutched under his arm, his heavy, dark robes swishing behind him as he walked. I gasped and pushed myself instinctively closer to Ethan, who squeezed my hand in return, barely even giving the priest a second look. 'Not all priests are agents of the Council,' he said, as we continued to walk, and I glanced furtively back over my shoulder. 'Most of them genuinely believe that what they have dedicated their liv

There are no soul in scavenge to asked for hopes and miracles, except for the company of Father Yue, a priest and some nun. The mass come to its end early in the morning at 10, and the priest assigned had lead it. He is a man on his late 20’s who had just graduated from the mercenary. Broaden shoulders, and visage that attracts women, who’s undeniably couldn’t deny their disappointment at what track he had chosen. “He could have been a good husband and a father.”

The tall priest, Katchkey, stood, his hands hooked behind his back, staring at one of the photos. “What they said was true, Bramato,” he said. His words were a whisper, hard to hear even in the quiet of an early-afternoon church. She walked closer. “On that hallowed, hollowed patch of earth where you rest your head.” “I’m sorry, what?” Drawing closer, she noticed the black under his eyes and the sallow skin. The cheeks sunken and gaunt. Cheekbones sharp like razors beneath the yellowed flesh. “Does that hallowed, hollowed patch allow prayer, Sister?” he said, pausing and then laughing. “Sister.” He shook his head.

Sarah, the Red Priestess stood up and came towards me. The High Priestess turned her anger on her, “You bitch, did you know this? Is that why you are here? I knew there had to be some good reason why someone like you would insist on being at this ceremony?” She pointed her finger right at Sarah and she didn’t wince.

I was just asking him if he's a priest and he retorted by asking me if I'm a prostitute. "I'm sorry but I'm a little bit lost here, what are you talking about?" I asked the man. "You wouldn't believe it but I just made $1000 for one client only. There's a weird priest inside that Abbey, he's willing to pay you money if you play along with his fetish. At first, I thought the priest was gay and he wants to have sex with me but then he just asked me to wear this ugly black cassock, he then cut my palm using his fucking teeth and sip my blood like he was so thirsty. I know it's fucking weird but I don

“Let’s just say you got lucky. Your baby is safe, too. We finally met, Miss Katherine Dela Torre. Let me properly introduce myself. I am Jonathan Valencia.” I looked around and found the owner of that voice. It was coming back to me now. That was the last voice I heard before I passed out. He was wearing a black trench coat and was casually sitting in one corner while sipping coffee. He had long and straight jet-black hair and a pair of blue condescending eyes that seemed to have the power to read through me, through my heart, and soul. How could this man be a priest? He didn’t look like it. He looked like a man who was used to giving commands inside a very el

Asher rang the doorbell and the person I never presumed to be the priest opened the door, I thought he was going to lead us to where we'd sit and wait for the priest himself but instead he took us to his office where he did his work and sat me down in the chair I assumed was used for people that he did his magic thing for. He looked rather young and was handsome. He didn't wear the regular weird clothes that priests wore, Instead he was simply in a pair of pants and a shirt. He seemed less intimidating and more friendly that way. He wasn't an old grumpy man, he didn't dress weird and looked young…

The priest's kind eyes met mine, his understanding and comprehension evident. He led me to a quiet, silent corner, away from prying eyes and eager ears. With closed eyes, he raised his hands up, invoking the divine energy that flowed through him. His voice resonated with the solemnity of his prayers, words weaving a protective shield around me. As the priest's prayers echoed through the hallowed space, I felt a surge of strength coursing through my veins. A renewed sense of purpose filled my being, bolstering my resolve to have my way in whatever I was doing in my life at all costs. With a final, heartfelt amen, the

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