“Like you say, he was probably crazy, or perhaps inebriated—best not to try and make sense of it. At least your friend was there to protect you.” He raised his voice at the end of that last sentence, as if he wished for her to elaborate.
“He’s not my friend. I don’t even know his name—well, not his real one, anyway. I was walking home last night and found him by the lake with no clothes on. I think he almost drowned. Lucky I was there.”
Mr Chester rubbed his chin. “He came out of the lake?”
“No, not out of the lake. I found him on the bank next to the water. I took him home and gave him some clothes, but then he disappeared—until he came out of nowhere to save me today, that is.”
“I think, maybe, he was a part of what happened, Scarlet.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he was probably part of some scam. You took him to your home, yes? Perhaps he looked around, then arranged for his partner to kidnap or rob you. I’m not sure on the details—I lack a ruffian’s mind—but it’s too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t you agree?”
Scarlett thought about Sorrow and struggled to accuse him. There was something about him—a gentleness—that told her he was genuine. Insane, but genuine. “Maybe you’re right,” she said, “but then why did he save me when I was attacked? What was he hoping to gain?”
“Your trust? Perhaps playing hero is part of his plan. You should be careful, Scarlet. If you see either man again, you should come get me right away, or go to your father. In the meantime, we shall inform the police of everything you have told me.”
She sighed. “Yeah, okay.”
Why did it feel like she was betraying Sorrow by telling the police about him?
Mr Chester looked at her sadly. “We’ll get things sorted out, Scarlet. I prom-”
“Eh, guys?” Indy shouted from the shop floor.
Mr Chester stood up. “Yes, what is it?”
“There’s a guy here, and he isn’t wearing any shoes.”
Scarlet leapt up. “That’s Sorrow!”
Mr Chester frowned. “Who?”
“The man who saved me. Come on!”
She raced out onto the shop floor where she did indeed find Sorrow. He was hunched over a shelving display at the side of the store. It was stacked with glass trinkets that all teetered back and forth precariously. When he spotted Scarlet, his face lit up, and she wondered if hers did the same.
She felt butterflies in her stomach.
“Scarlet! You are safe.” He pushed himself away from the shelving and was able to stand upright on his own, but he didn’t look comfortable.
“How did you know to find me here?”
“I sensed you were here.” He collapsed onto his knees and spotted the floor with blood. “I am… unwell.”
Scarlet ran to his aid.
Indy came to help her. “What the hell is going on, Scar?” he asked, obviously flummoxed.
“I have no idea, but he helped me, so I want to help him.”
Mr Chester hurried over to the front door and turned the latch. Then he twiddled the dial on the blinds to shut the world out. “This is ridiculous,” he shouted, glaring at his uninvited visitor, bleeding on his floor. “Who is this man? Indy, when will the police get here?”
Indy shook his head. “I never made the call, boss. This guy was hanging around outside and, when I opened the door to see what his deal was, he collapsed on top of me. Why isn’t he wearing any shoes?”
Mr Chester clenched his fists. “You didn’t call them? Damn it, Indy, if you want something done right…”
Sorrow moaned loudly, and slumped forwards onto his knees. A ragged scorch mark lined his stomach, and it was weeping blood. He struggled to raise a hand, and reached out to Scarlet. “If I could sense you were here, then so will he.”
Scarlet bent down and put her head under his arm. “Who? The man who attacked me?”
“Yes, he called himself The Saint. Told me I was-”
The sound of the phone slamming down on its cradle made them flinch and look towards the counter. Mr Chester was standing there, his face fallen like wax beside a flame. “It can’t be,” he spoke slowly, softly, in tones of disbelief. “It simply cannot be.”
Scarlet paused a beat, then asked, “What is it?”
Her boss seemed to be growing paler by the second. He slipped from behind the counter and came and grabbed Sorrow by one of his arms. “Indy, grab his other side. Scarlet, stay away, you’re in danger. We all are.”
Indy was shaking his head desperately. “Please, don’t tell me this guy has herpes or something.”
Scarlet ignored Indy and looked at Mr Chester. “What are you talking about? What do you know?”
“Just help me get this creature in the back,” he said. “I’ll explain everything.”
***
Two minutes later, they eased Sorrow down into a chair. Scarlet was stroking his cheek, trying to keep him from passing out, but she seemed to be losing the battle. He was hurt bad, but whenever she suggested calling an ambulance, Mr Chester wouldn’t allow it. “He doesn’t need a doctor,” he would say. Eventually, he slipped into his office and returned a moment later with something in his hand. When Scarlet saw that it was a crucifix, she was confused.
Sorrow hissed like a snake and threw up his hands to shield his face. All Mr Chester had done was hold the cross up in front of him.
“Stop it,” Scarlet shouted. “What are you doing?”
“Damn it! He’s a stinky vampire,” Indy shouted, but then he seemed to reconsider. “He was outside in the sun, though. Plus, he’s bleeding. Vampires’ hearts don’t beat, and they don’t get injured. Maybe he’s a—”
“He’s a demon,” Mr Chester snarled, still holding up the crucifix. “A creature from the bottomless pits.”
Sorrow lashed out and whipped the crucifix out of his face. “You speak lies!”
“I do not. You are a minion of darkness, sent here to see that the Great Turmoil takes place.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Scarlet demanded.
“Hell is exactly what I am talking about, dear girl. This creature before us is pure evil.”
“No, he’s not. He saved me. You’re acting crazier than he is.”
Mr Chester seemed to lose some of his anger to confusion, and when he studied Scarlet, he said nothing. Eventually, he put his head in his hands and just moaned. Gently, he muttered: “This doesn’t make any sense. No sense at all.”
In the corner of the room, Indy had frozen like a statue. Every now and then he mumbled something, but not loud enough to hear clearly. The last comment sounded like something about his mum.
“What is happening?” Scarlet yelled. “Why is everybody insane? Or is it me?”
“Yes,” Mr Chester snapped. “This is all because of you. I can’t believe you were right under my bloody nose this whole time!”
Scarlet was lost for words, but Indy had some. “Boss, you seem to have some kind of an issue with Scar. Did she do something to you?”
“It’s not about what she’s done. It’s about what she’s going to do.”
Scarlet found her voice again, but it was a fearful croak, and she realised she was crying for the second time that day. “Please, just tell me what’s going on.”
Mr Chester gave her a hard stare, but he seemed conflicted and allowed himself to soften, eventually sighing. “Okay, I’ll explain, but first things first.” He went into the small kitchenette and made them all cups of tea, bringing over a rattling tray a moment later. His nerves were obviously bad, but when Scarlet took one of the mugs, she realised her hands were shaking too.
Mr Chester sat down and rested his mug in his lap. He sighed before he started talking. “The man who attacked you, Scarlet—The Saint—is an Agent of Light. He is a defender of all that is good and pure.”
Scarlet almost laughed then. “And he wants to hurt me?”
“Not hurt you, Scarlet. Kill you.”
&
nbsp; “Shit, that’s heavy,” said Indy.
“Why does he want to kill me?
“Because you are The Spark.”
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“The Spark is a being prophesied to destroy existence—this world and many others.”
Indy’s mouth dropped open. He lifted his hand and pointed at Scarlet. “Scar, are you like Patient Zero or something? Are we all going to get a disease that makes our skin peel off?”
Mr Chester waved his hand. “She isn’t infectious, Indy—at least not with any sort of disease. The Spark is a cursed entity, destined to reignite the Great Flame and begin the Great Turmoil.”
There was silence in the room as both Scarlet and Indy looked dumbfounded. Sorrow remained hunched over and bleeding.
“Magic,” Mr Chester went on. “The Spark will bring magic back to the world.”
“So what,” said Indy. “Magic is cool. Life would be a lot cooler with a little bit of D&D rules thrown in.”
“Magic is not cool, Indy. It is evil. There are ancient creatures in this world, all of them currently powerless, but when the Great Flame is reignited, these creatures will regain their black talents and resume their sinister intents. The world will become a cesspit of misery.”
“Because of me?” said Scarlet. “I think I want to go home now. You’re upsetting me. Why are you trying to upset me?”
“I’m not trying to upset you, Scarlet. It’s the truth—and you can’t leave. Do you really think the problem is me? This creature—allergic to crosses and bleeding on my floor—is the problem. Everything I am telling you is true, Scarlet. Manah is a fallen angel. Once he had wings upon his back and answered men’s prayers. Then he turned towards a darker path. You are a pawn in Evil’s grand plan, and he is the agent tasked with manipulating you.”
Scarlet thought about the scars on Sorrow’s back. Could they have once held wings? “Fine,” she said. “Say that I believe you. How do you know all of this?”
Mr Chester straightened up proudly. He spoke with a lofty authority. “Because I’m a Guardian—and my father before me, and his before him. I came to Redlake because the organisation of which I am a part narrowed down the location of The Spark to this town. All of the ancient texts—”
“You’re crazy,” she spat, and stood up. “I want to get out of here. I want my dad.”
“Calm down, Scarlet. We need to figure this all out. The prophecy was not supposed to come true for another two years, and The Spark is supposed to come of age first—eighteen years old. You are only sixteen.”
She covered her ears. “Then you’ve got the wrong girl. I don’t want to hear any more of this.”
“Scarlet?” It was Sorrow speaking. He had managed to lift his head. “I’m here to protect you, I know it. Please, do not fear.”
“I don’t believe any of this. You’re all playing a mean prank on me.”
“Yeah,” said Indy. “I don’t believe any of it either. Enough is enough. Who are you, man? What game are you playing?” He was looking at Sorrow.
Sorrow lifted his head again, and this time managed to keep it there. “I do not know. My memory is… muddled, but I feel… I know that I am here to protect Scarlet.”
Indy nodded. “Good. I want to keep her safe too, but if she’s this big Sparky-Doodle, then doesn’t that make us the bad guys? Mr Chester said you’re a demon.”
“He is,” Mr Chester reiterated. “An evil monster.”
“I do not believe I am evil,” Sorrow objected. “I wish only to see Scarlet safe from harm. Is that wrong?”
Mr Chester looked like he had an answer, but he didn’t give it. He lifted his mug with shaking hands and sipped his tea. “The creature trying to harm her is, for all intents and purposes, an angel, so trust me, Sorrow is evil. I have devoted my life to this moment. I just had no idea it would be such a complicated mess. I need to speak with my colleagues.”
“Who are your colleagues?” Indy asked. “You said you were part of an organisation.”
“Yes, I am a member of the White Order—a secret society. A force of good in a world threatened by darkness. One of the noblest and most ancient of groups. I cannot tell you anymore. Our secrets have been kept for thousands-”
“The White Order is a members only community of mystics, scientists, and historians,” said Indy in a smug tone. “Believed to have been formed in 1266 by the Catholic Church in Damascus; it is dedicated to the understanding and advancement of mankind through charitable and mutually beneficial means.”
Mr Chester’s jaw fell open.
Indy held up his smartphone. “You guys have a webpage.”
“Yes, well, it was decided that it was better to hide in plain sight. We have a front as a benevolent fellowship, much like the Masons, but our true purpose is to stop the Great Turmoil and other threats to human existence.”
Scarlet wandered towards the shop floor, feeling like she had been drugged. Her mind was so dizzy that she felt like she was about to take off and float.
Sorrow sprang up after her. “Where do you wish to go?”
“Home. I can’t deal with any of this.”
“The Saint will still be looking for you,” said Mr Chester. “He will find you. We need to keep you safe.”
She turned on her boss and growled. “Keep me safe? Didn’t you say I’m the walking apocalypse? Don’t you want to see me dead? Isn’t that your job?”
He went to speak, but his lips moved without sound.
Scarlet accepted it as his answer and marched out onto the shop floor. Her hands were still shaking, so it took several attempts to unlatch the door, but eventually she managed an exit.
Morning was long underway, and the little shops on the high street were all beginning to fill with customers. Outside the town’s blue-fronted chain-store bakery, a fat woman in a scooter munched on a sausage roll. A couple of drunks stumbled around outside the bookies, after having littered the town’s bandstand with empty, crumpled beer cans. The world was exactly as it should be—not great, and definitely not magical. People were going about their lives, worried only about getting to work on time or paying their rent, not about supernatural apocalypses. What a load of nonsense, Scarlet told herself angrily. Magic, monsters, saints. She didn’t believe in any of it. All rubbish.
“Scarlet, I must accompany you.”
She turned to find Sorrow catching up to her.
“Just leave me alone!”
“I cannot allow The Saint to hurt you. I will die first.”
“You don’t even know me.”
He looked hurt. “Perhaps, but I feel the person you are. I sense your misery and your loneliness. I sense them because I feel them too. We are both alone and afraid, but we have each other.”
“Ha! You’re an idiot.”
He went on undeterred. “I also sense your courage and your compassion. When I am around you, my skin tingles with energy. We are connected.”
“Yeah, you’re my demon bodyguard—my evil pet.”
“I am no pet.”
“But you are evil?”
His brow wrinkled, and he looked sadder than Scarlet had ever seen anybody look before. “I… do not know,” he admitted. “Is it evil to protect something innocent? Something beautiful?”
Scarlet blushed, but kept a hold of her anger; it was the only thing keeping her together. “I’m going home.”
“Then we shall go together.”
“No! Please, Sorrow, just leave me alone. I don’t want your protection. You’re not even wearing any shoes.”
Sorrow looked down at his dirty feet while she stormed off. When she looked back, she was pleased to see that he had disappeared.
~ Chapter Six~
This time, Scarlet took the bus home. Whenever she walked beside the lake, her life seemed to get more complicated, so she was determined to give it a miss from now on. It was confusing that she hadn’t decided to call the police after everything that had happened, but the truth was t
hat she just wanted to forget it for now. She was through with Little Treasures Emporium and Mr Chester. She would find another job. And if she saw Sorrow or the Saint again, she would most definitely call the police. She needed to be careful in the meantime; the blond man had really been planning to hurt her. He might believe the same nonsense her boss had spun her.
Should she tell her dad?
Tell him what?
Hi, dad. I got attacked this morning by a giant who calls himself, ‘The Saint’, but I was saved by a demon, who I nicknamed ‘Sorrow’. My, now ex-boss says it’s all because I’m something called ‘The Spark’ and I’m going to bring magic back to the world. Apparently, that’s bad.
If this is a nightmare, then I’m ready to wake up.
She was about to walk up the front path, when she spotted a police car parked up on the curb. No officers sat inside the vehicle, so where were they?
She went up the front path and found her front door unlocked. She suddenly panicked, and hoped her dad was okay, while she quickly stepped inside; but he was standing in the living room, safe and sound. A pair of police officers stood with him, and the house looked like it had been turned upside down.
“Dad? What’s going on?”
“We’ve been burgled, honey.”
Scarlet looked around and saw the broken television and the strewn sofa cushions. “What did they take?”
Her father frowned. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
One of the two male police officers turned to Scarlet and smiled. “To be honest, it looks more like someone broke in just to cause damage. One of the neighbours called your father and described a large man with blond hair. Does that ring any bells?”
Scarlet didn’t know the tears were coming until they were halfway down her cheeks. Third time today. Her lower lip quivered as she spoke. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”
Her dad rushed over and hugged her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s probably just some druggies trying to get their kicks. It’s over and done with now.”
She pushed him back and shook her head. “No, it’s not. I was attacked this morning by the same man who probably did this. I don’t know what he wants.”
Wings of Sorrow (A horror fantasy novel) Page 4