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

more to say. “It is true, child. Manah’s insidious mutterings ignited the flames of hatred in many of the men involved in the events of your birth date. He is here trying to protect your life, only to ensure the death of millions.”
    Scarlet eased herself away from the counter and stood before the man meaning to hurt her. “I’m really going to be responsible for the end of the world?”
    “You are an instrument of destruction—a weapon for the old ones to force their way back here. Yes, you will be responsible for the end of your world.”
    “But I’m just a girl. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”
    The Saint seemed to soften at the sight of her misery, and bent slightly so he wasn’t quite so imposing. “It is a cruel fate to inflict upon a child, I know, but it is not The Father who did this to you. Those who Manah serves cursed you with your fate, and it is they who are to blame for your suffering. The Father does not wish you hurt; it is just what is necessary. Come to me now, and I will do what must be done and no more. Tormenting you is not my mission.”
    “You won’t have her,” Sorrow shouted, then rushed at The Saint.
    The Saint kicked out like a mule, hit Sorrow right in his ribs, and sent him flying back against the counter like a truck had hit him. “I shall do as I please.”
    “No you won’t!” Indy did the unexpected and soccer-kicked The Saint right in the knee—hard enough to make a loud cracking sound—but The Saint barely registered noticing.
    “Strike me again, boy, and I will kill you.”
    Indy stood his ground, raising his hand with the red and white umbrella tattoo and shaking it, but Scarlet quickly pulled him back. “Get away from him; he’ll kill you.”
    “I’ll kick his balls in, Scar. Just say the word.”
    “No one is getting hurt because of me.” She took a step towards the man who wished to kill her and took a deep breath. She just wanted this to be over. “It won’t hurt?”
    The Saint shook his head with all the compassion of an elderly school teacher. “I can make you dream, child. I will fill your heart with joy and make it seem like an eternity, but you must come to me now. Your life must end so that others do not.”
    Scarlet took another step forwards—almost in her attacker’s clutches.
    Sorrow stirred on the ground and let out a moan. Indy protested loudly, but she ignored them both. This was the only way to ensure they didn’t get hurt. If it was all true, then what choice did she have? She would rather die than be the reason for millions of deaths.
    “Get back!” Mr Chester came hurrying out of the back area holding something in his hands. It was a burning candle—long, white, and tall—and looked like it had been smothered in blood. The massive gash on Mr Chester’s forearm suggested that it came from him. “You enter this place uninvited, in a realm not your own. As the lord of this hold, I bid you depart. Begone!”
    The Saint sneered and took a step forward, but as his foot was about to make contact with the floorboards, it hovered. He gritted his teeth and tried to force his foot down, but he was seemingly unable. It was as if an invisible step lay beneath his foot.
    Mr Chester hurried forward with his gory candle. “Be gone, servant! Return to your masters.”
    The Saint growled, yet moved his foot backwards obediently. He started walking backwards and didn’t stop until he had moved back into the shop’s doorway. “You will not obstruct me, human. I am doing the Father’s work, here to ensure your future. Give me the girl. She is an abomination.”
    Mr Chester placed his arm around Scarlet and pulled her towards the counter, but he kept his eyes on The Saint the whole time and still held the candle out in front of him. “You are incorrect. She is just a girl, and until she becomes anything else, I will not let you harm her. By the blood of the Father and of my own flesh, move from sight.”
    “You will regret this, blood