Chapel

A Jude Carver Suspense Tale

Jude Carver had always thought he was on the right side.

Working logistics for Operation Sentinel, a black-budget clean-up unit with high-level clearance, he believed their mission was clear: smoke out predators hiding in powerful places. Child traffickers, blackmail rings, deepstate cults—Jude had seen enough in classified archives to make his bones burn.

He told himself he was one of the good guys.

Until the night that…

The drop came in the usual way: silver thumb drive wrapped in wax paper, delivered in a worn hymnal at St. Agnes Chapel—a reconverted bunker now used as a safe house. He inserted the drive into his field laptop. No passwords this time—only an autorun video file. Odd.

It opened. A familiar face: Captain Rowen, his own commanding officer.

“To the Sovereign House of Lucifer’s Light,” Rowen said with the tone of ritual.

Wait, what?

“We confirm the cleansing of the spoiled vessels. Sector Theta has been purged. Transfer of assets complete. The children are secured. The ‘public sting’ will proceed as scheduled to reinforce narrative control. No essential tributaries scapegoated.”

Two opposing serpents coiled around a pillar of light appeared, the inverted cross subtly embedded in the shadows behind.

Jude sat back. The chapel lights flickered. That was a lot of sweat. The old bunker groaned as a train passed overhead. Vomit was not going to service. But everything spun upside down. The stings, the ops, the televised rescues, the arrests—all incomplete. Choreography?

And atonement?

He did throw up, then.

Footsteps above—two men. One laughing. He snapped the laptop shut. The thumb drive? He glanced at the altar—it had once been consecrated. He wondered if it still remembered. He would burn the drive. It fell into his pocket as he knelt.

“Jesus… help me.”

Behind him, the chapel door creaked open.

“Carver?” It was Rowen’s voice. In the very vipers’ nest.

He rose from the altar. And turned to face the darkness.