Lucifer and his Father
“Mr Jones do you know what it is like to be persecuted for being what you are?” said a booming base of a voice.
The gas lanterns flickered and caught and threw shadows hither and dither like a cast with a ball of string. Moister dripped slowly down the grey walls navigating the path between the moss and fungi on the wall of the maze. Mr Jones sat weak and shaking at the entrance and was looking up at a man in a dark suit who appeared to be walking on the air a few meters above the maze. Mr Jones shifted his weight and staggered towards a wall and pulled himself up to look defiantly at the man.
“You are an abomination sir and not fit to walk god’s fair earth and it would be Father Jones to you and the rest of your foul kind” said Father Jones in weak but certain voice.
“Ah ha ha, Father you clearly underestimate your place and if I were you I would save my energy. Now run!” said the voice in the same booming tones.
A split second after the conversation ended a ferocious roar filled the maze and Father Jones ran forwards for what seemed like an aeon and always the thud of his feet and its feet. The Father only got one chance to look back at a section of the maze where it split in two, it was about seven foot tall and extremely bulky with curling horns and fire coming of it nostrils. After one look at the beast farther Jones fell to the floor dead, the beast approached and started to nudge it with its hands, suddenly the red hot fires of its eyes were quenched a deep see blue and it looked at the floating figure slightly confused.
“It’s alright Lucifer you can play with him again in a minute” said the shadowy figure as he drifted gently down beside the dead priest.
He reached out with an olive tanned hand and a dark mist emptied from it and the Father’s eyes flickered with life again. Lucifer picked up the priest and carried him to the start of the maze and then left him there to go to his starting place. All the while the shadowy figure watched with a sense of affection for Lucifer and a hell ridden hate for this Father Jones killer and terrorise of what he feared and did not know. The priest stirred and the shadowy figure glided over him.
“Mr Jones do you know what it is like to be persecuted for being what you are?” said the figure for the forty first time.

I agree that it's hard to understand. I'm sure that you have a very interesting story but perhaps people would like it more if you explained it a bit better?

Also, watch your spacing. This is the internet, and it is very straining on the eyes to read an entire page of unspaced text. As a general rule I have on my writing forum, each piece of direct speech goes into it's own paragraph. On top of that, deal with each individual idea in it's own paragraph. This makes it easier for the readers.

I hope that I don't seem too harsh, you have a great story, I just want to make it better.