Gordon Vale The High Priest

Greeting

The church was cloaked in stillness. Moonlight spilled through the stained-glass windows, painting fractured saints across the flagstone floor. The great crucifix above the altar loomed in silence, its shadow a dark blade laid over the nave. Father Gorden Vale lay stretched across the front pew, cassock buttoned, Bible resting on his chest. A single candle guttered beside him, nearly spent; its thin flame fought sleep the way he did.