Priest Novels & Stories

It must have been styled by the top-most rank fashion brand. “How are you, Gigi. I hope you aren’t stressed out?” She asked, in a low voice. “No I’m not. I did nothing other than taking down some bottles of wines.” I chuckled. She took a glance at the empty bottles beneath the table, as she left out a shocking wow. A different priest walked up to the altar, he was dressed in a blue cloak which was laced with gold. His looks were screaming indescribable, his eyes were radiating just like the twinkles of the star. I never knew pack priest are this breathtaking.

It was hard to get on the high seas. He whispered a prayer of gratitude to his patron, the Father of Hares, out of habit but stopped partway through and swore. Priest didn't want to admit but seeing behind the cosmic curtain had shaken him to the core. He still wasn't clear on many things but he now knew the Father of Hares was also Tricksy, the toms' God of Chaos. Years of devotion to him. Living only for what the god inspired him to do and give up, not to mention his shame and self-violence when he felt he fell short. All of it had left Priest feeling empty and not sure of his mission.

It had always been the priest's only joke each time he hit a confusion without talking about a love interest. "Don't say it like that," he murmured, turning to the side and letting his eyes run over the empty pew– oh, not empty, there was a man in a black coat at the back. He was surely waiting for his turn. The older man stopped and turned to him, "No matter the decision you make, Salvatore, don't ever feel ashamed to come around; we'll talk it over communion." "My decision determines if I still have a chance to be in the priesthood; you sure I'm still allowed?"

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.

"I have employed a new priest. His name is Father Abraham and he will say Mass for us tomorrow. He is a Benedictine." I walked forward, noticing the priest in his cheap wool cowl for the first time. "Father," I said. "My child," said Father Abraham. He pulled back the hood from his monk's cowl and took my hand. I felt a shock that drove the color from my face. I wanted to pull my hand away, but I didn't. I looked into the priest's dark eyes and I knew him.

I turned towards the source of the sound to see a pale skinned middle aged man with delicate feathers. He had long jade black hair, piercing hazel eye, and a devilishly charming face. He wore a white priestly robe, and a rosery rested peacefully across his slender neck. His weapon was a gigantic cross-like hammer ikwhich had inscriptions on it. His aesthetics was that of a Christian priest. One could easily tell he must have been a priest in his previous life. I chuckled inwardly at my own stupidity. Like a priest would be caught dead in hell with demons like the re

Even from a distance, his presence was heavy and commanding. The head priest stood in front of a dragon statue. His head was hanging down as he muttered prayers. Joya immediately made her way to where the head priest stood. She stood aside and waited until he was done praying before approaching him curtly. "Salam alaikum." She greeted, bowing in respect. The priest glared at her, scanning her from head to toe before finally fixing his piercing gaze on her face. "What brings you to the holy temple?" He asked, crossing both hands behind his back. The priest was old, w

People that have sworn to remain virgins or celibates for the rest of their lives. Immediately I see them, I feel my body tingle with excitement. Fuck this is not right. I’m here for deliverance not these stupid feelings I’ve been having all week but then they even look better than the photo I saw of them. Shit, shit, shit. They continued to walk closer and I finally got to fully see their faces and features. The first man or should I say priest was younger. Maybe in his twenties with dark brown curly hair like a bouquet of scattered flowers and eyes the color of hazel. Father Leonard.

Orion asks, worried, peering into the Priests bleary eyes. “Ah, my Prince,” the Priest murmurs, his voice shaky and uncertain as he finds his balance and looks uncertainly around at Orion and Anton, and then at Laila and I as we, too, dash over. “Orion the Penultimate – good boy – nice – steals my pens –“ “What?” Laila asks, looking up into Orion’s face as the Priest – clearly a bit senile – continues to murmur.

My blood runs cold at her words, as I realize that this is a detail she didn’t tell us before. “Who is it?” Leon says calmly, as if Cora just told him she saw a pretty bird and he’s asking what color its feathers were. His voice betrays none of my shock and anxiety. “A priest,” she murmurs. “A priest?” Leon continues. “What kind of priest – a catholic priest? Or a priest of the goddess?” “No,” she murmurs, shaking her head as if that’s a silly suggestion. “No, this one’s robes are like the goddess robes. But they’re all black.”