Okay as I've already mentioned this is the very first page of my first rough draft, I'm already aware that some of my sentences are too long and that my final paragraph is a bit too chunky, but I will address all that when I come to do the first re work. I don't want to be endlessly tinkering with it...
What I'm most concerned about is does it compel you to read on and how do you feel about the imagery? Please be brutally honest, I really want to make a proper go of this!
The handle of the dagger felt coarse and rough like tree bark in his hand but what was more prominent was the warm and wet sensation from the torrent of blood that coursed liberally from the wound he had inflicted on his victim; this victim was familiar to him and the look of pure unadulterated horror spurred him on as he withdrew the blade before burying it again, savagely, into the other mans stomach. An agonized scream then gurgling and now the smell of blood filled his senses and then the victim whom he knew so well expired, it was only then that he noticed the other mans now lifeless hand clasped loosely around his throat. The body slumped backwards from the blade and landed flat upon the floor with a dull thud. He looked down at his blood stained hands the dagger falling from his grip but in the place of remorse or guilt he felt a sickening sense of satisfaction and the sense of a cruel smile on his lips.
Savaric virtually leaped out of his bed as if forced by some unseen entity and slid down the coarse surface of his bed chambers wall not noticing his now grazed skin, this dream was unlike any he had experienced before and it had felt so real, so horrifying. The man he had viciously murdered had felt very familiar to him but Savaric had no knowledge of who this man was, as his mind struggled to regain its composure more details began to make their presence known, in his dream his skin had been darker but perhaps that had been a trick of the light but still the scar on the palm of his hand was totally alien to him though he looked at his hands through the pale light just to be sure.
Within a few moments he heard heavy footsteps approaching from outside of his door before the slow creaking of it opening. His father peered around the door with a glow of candle light surrounding him like a shroud "Are you okay my son?" Magnus asked in a hushed but gruff sounding voice, he looked at the man sat against the far wall. "I am sorry father, I had a terrible dream. It scared me". "Well son you know it was just a dream so get back in to bed and if it's still bothering you we will talk in the morning" The words may have sounded mildly uncaring to someone who did not know the short but stocky man but Savaric knew all too well that his father cared far more than he would often visibly show, but Magnus no doubt thought he was probably smothering the other man. As Magnus moved away returning the room too its dim haze the door creaked slowly shut Savaric raised himself from the floor and crawled back into bed noting the cold and damp sensation from his under sheet and pulled the heavy woollen blanket back over him. He lay there motionless for a few moments before rolling onto his side and stuffing his pillow under his head, he had an uneasy feeling, still, but the beckoning call of sleep soon took over him; Savaric slept soundly for the remainder of the night.
