Free Wings of Sorrow (A horror fantasy novel) by Iain Rob Wright

just making things more confusing. I don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t want to help me.”
    “Yes, I do.” He stood up from behind his desk and hurried over to the office’s door. “You can’t leave, Scarlet. My people will be arriving soon. We need to deal with this.”
    Sorrow stood nose to nose with him. “What people?”
    “Members of the White Order, of course. We have been preparing for the arrival of The Spark for centuries. I can’t just let Scarlet go. She’s dangerous.”
    “We are leaving.” Sorrow placed his strong hand firmly around Scarlet’s arm and began pulling her.
    Mr Chester grabbed Sorrow’s shirt to try and stop him. “You’re not going anywhere.”
    Sorrow’s face changed, and he became a monster. He unleashed a feral snarl and swiped Mr Chester so violently that he was launched backwards onto his desk. Papers and pencil pots went scattering everywhere.
    Scarlet tumbled aside, and then screamed.
    It was all true. He really was a demon.
    Sorrow reached for his own face and prodded at the bony protrusions that now jutted from his cheeks and forehead. His former human face now looked like it had merged with the bark of an oak tree—dark and mottled. Sunken eyes shone crimson while his wide open jaws bristled with spiny, catlike teeth.
    He reached out his hand—each finger tipped with talons. “Scarlet.”
    The word was a hiss.
    Scarlet ran out of the office and didn’t stop running until she had dodged past a startled Indy and made it all the way to the shop’s exit. She yanked the door open so hard that it hurt her shoulder, but the pain didn’t matter. She had to get out of there.
    Face first, she ran right into the chiselled chest of The Saint.
    She bounced backwards, grabbing her crumpled nose and feeling a trickle of blood coming. She looked at the monster in the doorway and shook her head in horror. “Please, no.”
    The Saint backhanded her so hard that she went head over heels and lost track of which way was up. She floundered on the floor, trying desperately to get up as he followed after her. Her skull felt like a dented saucepan, and her eyes wouldn’t uncross.
    Indy screamed like a girl, but he also hurried right over to help her, grabbing one of her arms and yanking her away from danger just in time. “Somebody help!” he bellowed. “Blond Terminator is here!”
    Scarlet managed to stagger to her feet, but couldn’t stop herself from collapsing against the counter.
    The Saint strode towards her, an expressionless machine.
    Sorrow got between them just in time. “Stay back, fiend! You will not hurt this girl.”
    The Saint stood still, scanning the scene before him with, what might have been, subtle amusement. When he eventually spoke, his voice was deep and authoritative. “You will not obstruct me, Manah. Go back to toying with the weak-minded. I do the Father’s bidding.”
    “I have no master but myself, and I will not allow you to hurt Scarlet. She is innocent.”
    “This is no mere human standing before you. Her destiny is written, but you will not succeed in safeguarding it. The Spark will die here, today, and humanity will remain under the protection of the Father. Your day of reckoning will come, demon. Why your memory eludes you, is a mystery to me, but you cannot change what you are.”
    Sorrow touched his face, which was now human again. “I know not what I am, but I do not seek to murder innocent girls. Who is the true demon here?”
    The Saint seemed amused by the question. The corners of his mouth raised ever so slightly. “Millions of innocents have died over centuries because of you, Manah. Even the day of this girl’s birth was marred by your meddling. Your whispers have stretched throughout history and maddened entire nations to murder. Men fly metal birds into buildings on your say so.”
    “Is he talking about 9/11?” Scarlet asked, staring at Sorrow in disbelief. “Were you behind it?”
    The Saint turned to her and had