Shadows of St. Ignatius

Shadows of St. Ignatius is the thrilling first installment in The Chronicles of Chad Ryker: Supernatural Justice, a gripping young adult series that blends mystery, supernatural suspense, and Jesuit mysticism.

Chad Ryker is no ordinary freshman. Raised on a sprawling horse farm and vineyard in San Luis Obispo, California, Chad's life has been grounded in family, hard work, and faith. But when he begins his first year at St. Ignatius Academy-a prestigious Jesuit high school with a haunting history-his world begins to unravel. Strange whispers, moving shadows, and unsettling visions seem to follow him at every turn, drawing him into the school's deepest and darkest secrets.

When Chad discovers an abandoned chapel and stumbles upon a cloaked group performing chilling rituals, he realizes he's caught in a centuries-old battle between light and darkness. With the help of his tech-savvy best friend Kara and conspiracy-obsessed Leo, Chad begins piecing together the mystery of St. Ignatius. He learns of a hidden artifact, the Heart of Ignatius, and its connection to his own lineage-a connection that places him at the center of a terrifying prophecy.

As the shadows grow bolder, Chad must confront his fears, embrace his emerging abilities, and decide whether to take up the mantle of protector against supernatural forces. Rich with Gothic atmosphere, suspense, and heart, Shadows of St. Ignatius is a coming-of-age story that explores courage, faith, and the hidden battles we all face. Perfect for fans of The Raven Cycle and The Da Vinci Code, this book is an unforgettable start to a seven-part journey.

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Excerpt from The Chronicles of Chad Ryker: Supernatural Justice (Book One): Shadows of St. Ignatius © Copyright 2025 R. E. Chard

Chapter 7: Secrets Beneath the Shelves

Chad stepped into the library, the heavy oak door groaning as it swung shut behind him. The familiar scent of old books and polished wood enveloped him, usually comforting but now tinged with an air of unease. The faint hum of overhead lights flickered intermittently, casting shifting shadows on the rows of shelves.

Mr. Larkin, the librarian, sat at his usual post behind the desk, hunched over a massive ledger. His glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose, and his sharp, gray eyes darted up when Chad approached.

“Mr. Ryker,” Larkin said, his voice as dry as the pages he handled. “What brings you here so late?”

Chad hesitated, clutching the crumpled piece of paper in his hand. On it was the strange symbol he had sketched—a design etched into his memory since he’d seen it near the abandoned chapel. His fingers smoothed the page nervously against the desk.

“I… uh, I’m working on a history project,” Chad stammered. “I found this symbol, and I thought it might be connected to the school. Do you know what it is?”

Larkin’s expression darkened as his gaze dropped to the paper. He traced the edges of the symbol with his finger, his face unreadable. For a long moment, he said nothing.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than before. “This is not a symbol you stumble upon by chance, Mr. Ryker. It once belonged to a society that should remain forgotten.”

Chad’s stomach turned. “A society? What kind of society?”

Larkin leaned back in his chair, his piercing eyes narrowing. “The kind best left undisturbed. Stories speak of rituals—dangerous, unorthodox rituals. But they’re just that: stories. Why do you ask?”

Chad’s heart raced. He scrambled for a plausible excuse. “I thought it might add something unique to my report. Something about the school’s history.”

Larkin studied him for another long moment before nodding slowly. “You’ll find more in the historical section.” He gestured toward the far end of the library. “But remember: those books don’t leave the library. Reference only.”

“Understood,” Chad mumbled, turning quickly toward the shelves. But Larkin’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Mr. Ryker,” he said, his tone sharper now. “Be cautious. Some things are better left undiscovered.”

Chad nodded, not daring to look back as he made his way to the historical section. The air grew heavier with each step, the distant rustle of pages and faint whispers of other students fading into silence. The shelves here were older, their spines cracked and faded with age. Latin and Greek titles marked the bindings, the script unfamiliar and ominous.

His gaze fell on a plain black book tucked into the corner of a lower shelf. It bore no title, only the symbol embossed in faint gold on the cover. Chad’s pulse quickened as he pulled it free, its leather binding cool and rough beneath his fingertips.

Carrying the book to a nearby table, Chad set it down carefully. As he opened it, a strange sensation washed over him. The pages felt heavier than they should, their edges frayed but intact. The text was densely packed, the Latin letters sharp and angular.

The words seemed to blur and shift before his eyes, rearranging themselves into patterns he couldn’t quite understand. He rubbed his eyes and blinked, willing the text to stay still.

“Focus,” he muttered to himself. But the room seemed to close in around him. The shadows in the corners grew darker, stretching along the walls as if alive. The faint hum of the lights overhead grew louder, almost deafening.

And then he heard it.

A whisper, faint and distant, brushing against his ears like a soft breeze. Chad froze, his breath caught in his throat. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see someone standing behind him. But the room was empty.

The whispers grew louder, rhythmic and insistent, their tone both pleading and mocking. Chad’s hands trembled as he turned the pages, searching for answers. The shadows crept closer, flickering like firelight at the edges of his vision.

He closed the book abruptly, the sound echoing in the oppressive silence. The whispers stopped, but the weight of the room remained. Chad glanced toward the glass doors of the archive room, his heart pounding.

Then, from the far corner of the room, he saw it—a flicker of movement, quick and subtle. His flashlight trembled in his hand as he swung the beam toward the source. There was nothing there. Just empty shelves and scattered dust motes dancing in the light.

“Get a grip,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. But the words did little to calm him. The sense of being watched was overwhelming now, the air thick with a presence he couldn’t see.

Chad backed toward the door, his movements slow and deliberate. His fingers fumbled for the handle, desperate to leave the room behind. But before he could reach it, a low creak echoed through the space—the sound of a door opening somewhere nearby.

His breath hitched as he froze in place, listening. The creak was followed by the faint rustle of fabric, like someone—or something—moving through the library. Chad’s flashlight darted across the room, illuminating rows of books and shadowy corners. Still, he saw nothing.

But he felt it. The weight of eyes on him, the unmistakable sensation of being hunted.

Chad turned and bolted, his footsteps echoing loudly on the polished floor. The glass doors to the archive room swung open with a crash, and he sprinted toward the main library entrance. His flashlight’s beam bounced wildly, casting jagged shadows on the walls.

As he reached the heavy oak door, he glanced back. The shadows in the room seemed to shift and ripple, like smoke caught in a breeze. For a brief moment, he thought he saw a figure—a tall, cloaked silhouette standing motionless in the darkness.

Then the whispers returned, louder and more insistent, their chorus a haunting chant: Chad Ryker… Chad Ryker…

He threw open the door and stumbled into the hallway, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. The library’s stillness seemed to cling to him, its whispers echoing in his mind even as he ran.

Chad didn’t stop until he was outside, the cool night air hitting him like a slap. He leaned against the stone wall of the school, his breath visible in the crisp air. His heart raced as he replayed the events in his mind—the whispers, the shifting shadows, the figure in the corner of his vision.

Whatever secrets the library held, Chad knew they were far more dangerous than he had imagined. And yet, he couldn’t ignore the pull to uncover them.

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