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SHADOW BENEATH THE SANCTUARY

SHADOW BENEATH THE SANCTUARY

Betelruthzy

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Nineteen-year-old Betel Johnson has found sanctuary in the rigid structure of Prophet Victor's church-a place where order reigns and questions are quietly buried. With her vibrant best friend Jenny by her side, Betel's life feels safe, predictable...until Leonard arrives. Mysterious, magnetic, and unsettlingly insightful, Leonard's presence challenges everything Betel thought she believed. As curiosity brews and loyalties are tested, the once-comforting walls of the church begin to feel like a trap. In The Fold, the line between faith and control starts to blur-and one quiet girl must decide who she is when the rules no longer feel holy.

Chapter 1 The Fold

At nineteen, Betel Johnson had mastered the art of invisibility-an intentional invisibility. She floated through Prophet Victor's church like a spirit of efficiency: quiet, committed, and always behind a camera. Her world revolved around cables, countdowns, and capturing moments of anointing. In that dome-shaped sanctuary brimming with echoes of tongues and hallelujahs, she found rhythm. Purpose. Safety.

The church was her compass. And Prophet Victor-Vicko, as the faithful dared to call him in reverent hush-was the needle.

He stood on the altar like a god in white-regal, intense, and terrifying in his insight. His voice could shake a sinner down to their knees or send a lover of God into fits of holy laughter. With eyes that seemed to pierce marrow, he made obedience feel like salvation and doubt, like betrayal. His word was law wrapped in scripture, and no one dared question it. Especially not Betel.

She had joined the fold at sixteen, after her father's death and her mother's quiet unraveling. In the chaos, the church offered structure. Boundaries. The kind of clean, ordered world where grief couldn't slip through the cracks. And in that world, Betel found Jenny.

Jenny had a laugh like wind chimes and a wardrobe that could rival Lagos influencers. She danced like she knew heaven was watching, and sang like she was negotiating mercy on behalf of the congregation. Where Betel was reserved, Jenny blazed. They were opposites and yet mirrors-drawn together by the loneliness of girls craving something more than what life had handed them.

Every service, they met at the media desk, whispered about which member looked particularly "delivered" today, and swapped lip gloss between service transitions. They knew each other's silences. Jenny was family now. Betel had finally stopped looking for home.

Until Leonard.

He came in on a Wednesday evening, just as the ushers were arranging plastic chairs for midweek prayers. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the calm, calculated manner of someone who never had to explain himself twice. A crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to suggest work ethic. Eyes like dusk-quiet, but full of things unsaid.

Leonard was introduced as a transfer from the Ibadan branch, assigned to the finance department. But whispers moved faster than introductions. Some said he was Vicko's spiritual son. Others said he had once prophesied a woman back to life.

Betel didn't care. Not at first.

But Jenny did. She noticed immediately how he smiled at the offering basket like it was an old friend. How he spoke in low tones to Pastor Emeka and made the older man laugh. That was rare. Respect, charm, confidence-all balanced so carefully in one man. It was unnerving.

"He looks like he reads books with no pictures," Jenny whispered after their second encounter. "You know what I mean?"

Betel laughed. She did.

But Leonard wasn't just another handsome face passing through the church like many before. He lingered. Sat beside them after choir rehearsals. Helped Betel troubleshoot HDMI cables when the projector acted like a demon. Asked thoughtful questions. Listened.

And just like that, he was there-everywhere. Without force. Without noise.

"You both remind me of my younger sisters," he once said, eyes warm, voice soft. "It's refreshing. Most people here...they perform holiness. You two? You live it."

It was a compliment. A simple one. But it curled itself around Betel's spine and stayed.

She started noticing things. The faint scar on Leonard's left hand when he handed her a mic. The way he prayed-low, deliberate, like he was having a conversation rather than staging a spectacle. The way his eyes sometimes flicked toward the altar during Vicko's sermons-not in awe, but in quiet calculation.

There was something about him.

Jenny noticed too. And slowly, a different tension seeped into their friendship. One that neither wanted to name.

"Do you think he's...genuine?" Jenny asked one Friday night as they walked home together under the dim glow of streetlights.

Betel paused. "He seems so."

"That's not what I asked."

Betel hesitated. "I don't know. He's kind. Helpful. What more do you need?"

Jenn didn't answer right away. Then, "Sometimes kind people have motives. I've seen that before."

Betel wanted to argue. But Jenny wasn't wrong.

Still, Betel found herself looking for Leonard during services. Listening for his laugh. Wanting his opinion on her camera angles. She hated the flutter it brought. It felt like betrayal-of Jenny, of the order of things, of the very rules that kept her life clean.

And then came Sunday.

The sanctuary was packed, heat shimmering from human bodies and fervent praise. Vicko took the stage, thunderous and anointed, and declared a fast for the unmarried. "A holy pruning," he called it. "The Lord is preparing you for covenant. But not all that glitters is God."

His eyes swept across the room, landing-for just a moment-on Leonard.

Betel felt her chest tighten. Did Vicko know something?

Later, in the media room, Leonard lingered again. Jenny had already gone to choir prep, and it was just Betel and him. The air felt too still.

"You ever wonder what this place would be without the performance?" he asked suddenly.

She looked up. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged, leaning against the wall. "What if we served God without the theatre? Without the fear. Just...faith."

Betel's throat tightened. That was dangerous talk. Words that could be twisted into rebellion.

"I...I think Prophet Victor knows what he's doing," she said, careful.

Leonard studied her. "Do you believe that? Or is that just what you were told to believe?"

The silence between them cracked wide open.

That night, Betel couldn't sleep. Jenny's voice echoed in her head: Kind people have motives.

And for the first time, she wasn't sure if Leonard had come into their lives by chance-or if something far more deliberate was unfolding.

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SHADOW BENEATH THE SANCTUARY
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Chapter 1 The Fold

16/04/2025