Hello...
This is a very rough draft of a short prologue to a story I am currently writing. It doesn't have a title just yet, so I'll refer to it as "Vincent", since he's the main character. Anyway, although I know that many readers enjoy opening a book to find themselves already in the middle of the action, I decided to go ahead and do this how I really wanted it to be done, and introduce Vincent just a tad. I left him mysterious though really - there are TONS of things yet to be revealed about him. I suppose I just wanted to set the scene a bit before the action starts. Chapter one though will start off with a bang. I figured an introduction that was only slightly over a page long wouldn't hurt too much.
Anyway, I would appreciate any comments, etc. that anyone would like to provide. Thanks for reading!
The candles flickered in the wall sconces that lined the quaint room, illuminating the vast shelves of ancient tomes and treasured texts. Orangey light danced over rolls of ink-stained parchment, some of which were so old that their edges had burnished to a time-worn brown. He sat in a chair at a slightly battered desk, the soft light washing over his pale features as he hastily scribbled the words that burned within his mind, breathing them to life upon the pages of the tattered yet cherished diary.
I have never been overly fond of vampires.
That, Vincent mused, was a definite understatement.
Unable to fully mask a smile at the irony of it all, he shook his head, long amber hair falling over his shoulder and into his eyes. Absent-mindedly, he curled the tendrils of hair back behind his ear, capturing his lower lip between teeth that were just a bit sharper than that of the average man.
I was only a small boy when I was first exposed to the very real horror such creatures of darkness impose upon the lives of the innocent.
Again, an understatement, and Vincent paused in his writing, chewing thoughtfully on the quill as he allowed his sight to travel over his own messy scrawl.
Setting the book aside for a moment, he sighed deeply and reclined in his chair, arms reaching high above his head as a yawn escaped him. Finally, he leaned forward once again, raising the cup of tea to his lips and drinking deeply of the warm, amber liquid.
Vincent had always loved tea. It reminded him of home, of days long past. The warm, spicy brew possessed the power to soothe, even on the coldest of nights. He could think of only one drink that warmed him more thoroughly from the inside out—the enticing golden elixir of a good scotch. How he longed for one now…but no, it was getting late and he had far too many things to do in the morning.
His head was beginning to hurt. Deciding that perhaps he’d done enough writing for tonight, he rose from his chair and made his way slowly to the window, gazing out at the star-strewn sky. The moon was half full, bathing all it touched with its silvery glow, and Vincent suddenly realized that his thoughts had already traveled miles away, recollections of better times pushing to the forefront of his mind.
Closing his eyes, he could clearly envision images of himself as a child, back when the world was new to him; a grand, enchanting place instead of the cold, dark series of trials and loss his life had now become.
But even as a young person, his life had not been easy. In fact, he was willing to wager that the sole purpose of his short years as a youth had been to prepare him for the horrors that lie ahead; terrors that suddenly came to life once again in the form of vivid, haunting memories.
Keep it up!
