Losh
01-23-2014, 09:27 AM
The room was dark and filled with the musky scent of stale air and old moldy walls along with an eerie sense of dread that filled its every nook and cranny. Henry was standing in the middle of the room on an old, tarnished and ripped rug which had become a real heaven for mold and dust within. A fractured old chandelier was insecurely swinging above his head, threatening to fall and squash him at any given time. The room was so dark that even the most simple of silhouettes were hard to make out, so much so that in the grim darkness he had almost forgotten his very purpose there. Then it crawled back into his mind, underhandedly and sinisterly, like a snake. The book.
He wandered through the debris filled room furiously kicking anything on his way to the side. This is so beneath me, he though as the minutes passed by and flowed into one another, giving him the odd feeling that he was walking around in circles, purposelessly and stupidly. He knew that the chances of finding such a small and easy to conceal object in a room that wide and dark was a fool's errand without help, that he'd possibly never find it. Yet he carried on, his eyes futilely trying to find any trace of the object he was looking for, but to no avail.
Finally, he gave in, flashing his hands furiously. He bit grinned, biting his crackled lower lip, tasting the few droplets of blood from the small wound he'd just made. The taste was soon replace by the taste of bile though, as every single cell in his body was wreathing in agony, ripping itself apart. His heart skipped a beat as the power and vile energy coursed through his veins, overcoming him like a wild storm. Sparks rushed from his hands, flying around the room in a wild torrent of crimson, leaving behind a trail of red light as they flew and collided with the items in the room. It was not long until the entire room was bathed in the color of blood. Reluctantly, he let go, letting the bitter-sweet agonizing sensation of his body being ripped apart from within as the power coursed through him fade away. He lingered, just for a slight moment, prolonging that final drop, that final instant of sweet, addictive pain before he finally let it slip. His body was shaking, but all that was left from the power was a sense of shame that was coming over him. He was weak, he gave into the temptation. Magic was stronger than any drug in the world, and he didn't know if he'd have the strength to resist it for much longer.
This is the intro of... what I hope one day will turn out to be a novel. It has -some- degree of fantasy, but nothing over the top, or at least I hope so. Anyhow, as you can imagine I'm rather insecure and just wanted some opinions on this short intro. Thank you in advance.
He wandered through the debris filled room furiously kicking anything on his way to the side. This is so beneath me, he though as the minutes passed by and flowed into one another, giving him the odd feeling that he was walking around in circles, purposelessly and stupidly. He knew that the chances of finding such a small and easy to conceal object in a room that wide and dark was a fool's errand without help, that he'd possibly never find it. Yet he carried on, his eyes futilely trying to find any trace of the object he was looking for, but to no avail.
Finally, he gave in, flashing his hands furiously. He bit grinned, biting his crackled lower lip, tasting the few droplets of blood from the small wound he'd just made. The taste was soon replace by the taste of bile though, as every single cell in his body was wreathing in agony, ripping itself apart. His heart skipped a beat as the power and vile energy coursed through his veins, overcoming him like a wild storm. Sparks rushed from his hands, flying around the room in a wild torrent of crimson, leaving behind a trail of red light as they flew and collided with the items in the room. It was not long until the entire room was bathed in the color of blood. Reluctantly, he let go, letting the bitter-sweet agonizing sensation of his body being ripped apart from within as the power coursed through him fade away. He lingered, just for a slight moment, prolonging that final drop, that final instant of sweet, addictive pain before he finally let it slip. His body was shaking, but all that was left from the power was a sense of shame that was coming over him. He was weak, he gave into the temptation. Magic was stronger than any drug in the world, and he didn't know if he'd have the strength to resist it for much longer.
This is the intro of... what I hope one day will turn out to be a novel. It has -some- degree of fantasy, but nothing over the top, or at least I hope so. Anyhow, as you can imagine I'm rather insecure and just wanted some opinions on this short intro. Thank you in advance.