What do you think to the start of my horror book

[Blueplain]

CURSE
The Unquaint village

Chapter 1

John casually turned through the various radio stations. Any sighn of civilisation was now far behind and his radio was a testament to that fact.

"Nothing but static" John said to himself as he indicated to turn right.

John liked the hussle and conveniance of the city. The quiet life was a distant nightmare to him. He lived in the fast lane and as he crawled at a painstaking 10mph down the dirt road he slowly felt like he was dieing inside. Just before John had reached the edge of dispare a welcoming sighn loomed up ahead in the car headlights "Welcome to Hellford". John reached for the dashboard while keeping his eyes on the dimly lit road. Taking hold of the map, he cruedly unfolded it and placed it within his peripheral vision. Glancing occasionally, John identified the thick red circle he had marked, which identifying the location of the guest house he would be staying at. He took his eyes from the straight road in an attempt to identify the route more accuratly. THUD!
John slammed on the breaks and came to a stop a few moments later. His heart was thumping in his chests and for a moment he was lost in shock. I was only going 10, it was probberly an animal and various other thoughts flew through johns head as he reached for the glove box and grabbed a torch from within. John took a deep breath and steeled himself as he pushed open the door and stepped outside. John shone the flashlight along the car as he walked round to the front. As his light illuminated the front of the car, his face contorted into a mixture of confusion and wonder. The front of Johns car was covered in paint of which was a multitude of colours. John pinched himself to ensure he was awake and glanced nervously around the car. A large wall of corn enveloped both sides of the road. The cornfileds unerved John but his anxiety quickly turned into anger
"Whoever you are, you are a coward!" Shaking his head John climbed back into his car and carried along up the road. This time at a slightly more angry speed of 12mph.
It was nearly 1am when john approached the guest house. The old house looked very earie illuminated by the cars headlights. The house was a large wooden home, probberly built during the victorian era. From the roof a tall tower patruded up into the bleak darkness. John opened his car door and shuddered at the cold night air. He did not remember feeling the cold when he had left his car in the corn field but that was the power of adrenalin. John poped open the boot and pulled out his meagerly packed suitcase. In a few strides John had reached the guest house and scaled the stairs leading up to the door. With a last will of effort John lifted his hands and pounded on the old oak door.
A few moments passed when a bright interrior light assulted his eyes through the doors window. John could hear the sound of muttering and various bolts being adjusted followed shortly by the gruntled face of his greeter.

"What are you wanting at this godley time of night, you be Detective John Tyler I assume, spossed to be here by 9, but thats the problem with you city folk. Turning up whenever you please, disturbing decent folk in the middle of the night. Oh I am sorry detective I am not in the greatest of moods when awoken. You would have found me a much more agreeable host at 9. Pass me your coat and I will get it hung by the door. Breakfast is at 9:30 on the dot" The greeter went on like this for some time and without even speaking, John found himself quickly shut into his room on the third floor, mouth agape and keys dangling from his hand. Shrugging the incident off, john neglected to unpack his suitcase and just collapsed on the bed. The wonderfull embrace of deep sleep took hold.

It was around 9am the next day when John heard a curtious knock on the door, followed by the same voice he heard the night before.

"Breakfast will be ready in 30 minuites detective Tyler, make sure you are prompt this time"

John let out a noise that was supposed to be an ok but came out more like an urg. However it was enough to apease his host whos feet could be heard heading back down the corridor. John clamberd out of bed and shuffled towards the bathroom. By the time John had reached the bathroom sink, his eyes had managed to open enough to behold his surroundings clearly. He studied himself in the mirror, at the age of 27 John had the missfortune to look 5 years older then he actually was. His thick brown hair hung over his head, looking as dead as he felt. His thick eyebrows complimented his rich dark brown eyes, which currently had black bags hanging below. John stroked his one day old stubble on his neat square chin and began to gather his thoughts. He then glanced over at his suitcase and gave a great sigh. Should of unpacked last night, he thought to himself. It was 9:35 by the time John was sat at the breakfast table. His hoste gave him another dissapointed look as he placed Johns breakfast in front of him. As John tucked into his breakfast his host took a seat oposite him and said.

"You be here due to Mr Broadley I reckon, very strange circumstances, I dont like it one bit"

John looked up at his hoste and quickly swollowed the bacon he was thoroughly enjoying.

"I might be doing just that mr?" John eyed the man up across the table. His hoste was around 50, he had a well trimmed grey beard and a tanned weatherd face. His hands were thoese of a working man.

"I be Logan fletcher, but you can call me Mr Fletcher" he said with an air of proudness.

"Well Mr Fletcher, suppose I am looking into the dissapearance of Mr Broadley, what could you tell me about him?" John looked Mr Fletcher straight in the eyes. The eyes are the most important measure of worth John found over his many interviews. The eyes spoke many words. A slight glance to the left or to the right, too much blinking, too little blinking. John had become an expert at reading eyes.

"Mr Broadley was a decent man. He respected others and lent a hand where he could. The whole village is very upset about all this, no doubt about it" Mr Fletcher said while stroking his beard.

"Do you know of anyone who might have dissliked Mr Broadley?" John said tucking into a rich thick cumberland sausage.

"Disslike Mr Broadley! I would not say so, he was not the type that would have people taking a dissliking. I know most people have someone or another that they dont get on with but no one springs to mind when it comes to Mr Broadley" Mr Fletcher said sounding confident.
John noded as he polished off his eggs.

"Well....thank you for the breakfast Mr Fletcher, that was the best cumberland sausage I have ever had" John said wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Mr Fletcher broke into a smile

"Thank you detective Tyler, I take great pride in the food I serve here"

John stood up and thanked Mr Fletcher again as walked towards the door. He grabbed his coat from the hook, which it was placed the night before and started to put it on as he reached for the door handle.

"I hope you get to the bottom of this mess detective Tyler" Mr Fletcher said giving John a hopefull look.

"Thank you Mr Fletcher" With that John closed the door behind him and walked towards his car.

Chapter 2

John stopped dead in front of his car, another wave of confusion swept over him and he began to doubt his sences. The paint, that covered the whole front of his car the night before, was gone. John looked on the floor surrounding the car and it appeard to be bone dry. It was currently about 8 degreese centigrade and as such, if the car was washed that morning, the ground would have still been very wet. Had he dreamt last nights events? Feeling unerved John quickly got into his car and started the engine.
John took hold of the map and studied it carefully. The village was not of a great size. It had the useual few shops, various pubs and a single lowly church. What was most impressive however was the mannor which was Johns current target. John had made the effort to read into the history of the mannor and the village before he had journeyd to Hellford. The mannor was constructed in 1820. The family which owned the manor had been very wealthy. In fact the village around the mannor only existed due to this familys extravagant needs. The family did not want the servents sleeping within the mannor and as such ensured that homes had been built outside its walls. This was a very clostly endeavor but harderly scratched upon the Broadleys finances. In fact they made quite a bit of money back from the rent of such propperties. Hellford was born and the family grew fat and endulgent on its residence. In 1897 a spate of killings brought shame upon the Broadley family. A Edward Broadley had decided to take it upon himself to endulge his dark fantasy's. He began to torture and kill the various servents under his employ, until he was caught and killed by a village mob in the attic of the mannor. The family paid a large portion of there wealth to keep the villagers silent and the story out of the media. The family still resides in the mannor today but are much less wealthy and endulgent compared to their previous generations.
John put the car in drive and slowly made his way through the small village streets. Everyone he passed took noticed and watched his car until he was out of view. In a village like this everyone knew everyone and took notice when a stranger was in town. After 15 minuites of driving John reached the grand gates of the manor estate. The gate swung open as he approached. They must have been watching very carefully for my arrival, john thought to himself. The grounds around the mannor seems slightly unkempt, various bushes here and there had become untamed and grew wildly. The grass had been kept short but it was of an uneven length and not of the pristine state you would expect from such a place. Soon the mannor itself loomed on the horizon, the mannor was very gothic in appearence. The face of the mannor had crumbled in various places and old gargoles looked hauntingly over the grounds but appearing worse for wear. It was very evident that the estate had fallen into dissarray. Had the Broadley family reached the end of there unlimited coffers? John pulled up close to the door and turned off the ignition. He waited a few moments expecting some form of butler or valet to see to his needs but none of the sort had materealised. I appear to be 100 years too late, John thought to himself as he stepped out of the car. When John got to the big black doors, John paused for a moment. He began to consider how he should address the lord or lady of the house when the door swung open. Before him was a dusty haggered buttler stereotypically carrying a feather duster. The butler gave a short graceous bow and stretched out his arm welcomely

"Please come in, lady Stephanie is waiting for you within the study" The butler said with the greatest of etiquette.

John smiled politely and stepped into the enormouse entrance hall. What must have once been a grand stair case stretched into the upper reaches of the mannor. On every wall, noble faces staired out from their frames. The air was heavy and thick, like the air within was as old as the manor itself. Spread out evenly various tables, holding one form of antique or another. Great vases sat proudly around doorways and alcoves. The furnishing within this home must add up to a fortune, John thought as he passed through the various rooms. At last John reach his destination ad suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. Lady Stephenie stood at the far end of the room, she was standing eligantly in front of a large marble fireplace. The sunlight filtered gently through the window and met with uttur perfection upon her face. Her beauty was breath taking. Her deep blue eyes was filled with sadness but pride. Her lips, bright red in the morning light. Her skin glistened softly, a beautiful but gentle complextion. She adorned a long delicate white dress that looked as though it drifted down to the floor. John was not aware that he was staring until the lady stephanie cleared her throat.

"My lady....Detective John Tyler" John said feeling slightly flustered
Lady Stephanie turned towards John and slightly bowed her head

"A pleasure detective, would you indulge me and join me for tiffany. I think we can afford some leasure as we speak of this....distastefull turn of affairs" Lady stephenie indicated the seat in which she wished John to sit.

"Certainly my lady" John walked over to Lady stephanie's chair

"Please allow me" Lady Stephanie gave John a gracious smile as John pulled out her seat and watched as she graciously sat down. After John had seated her, he sat in his own chair.

"Thank you detective, I am pleased I have chosen a polite and civilised man to conduct my affairs"

John noded his head politely and watched in awkward silence as the butler stepped in with a tray of tea. Once the butler had set the various fine china in their perspective and propper places he excused himself and exited the room.

"Milk and sugar?" Lady stephenie inquired

"Milk and one lump, thank you my lady" John said still feeling nervous.

John watched the lady prepare his tea, still encaptulated by her beauty he began to stare again, however lady stephanie was too engrossed in her etiquette of pouring tea to notice. Once she had finished with Johns and her own tea she gave out a great sigh.

"I apologise for the condition of the estate detective. It was once a grand and beautiful place. The envy of the town, well it still is but if you should have seen it......I suppose we should get straight to the buissness at hand"

[Elil]

If you're interested in an honest author's opinion, you need to proof read and copy edit it. That aside, consider replacing the name with the personal pronoun. Instead of 'John' being the agent, mix it up with 'he'. I actually more tend the other way and only use the name because I haven't used it for a while or I've switched participant in a conversation, but everyone differs. Plot wise actually I quite enjoyed it, and hey, that's most of the way there. There are some very famous names whose editing capabilities are abysmal, after all.

[ArcyCiern]

I've already pre-ordered the book

[Blueplain]

If you're interested in an honest author's opinion, you need to proof read and copy edit it. That aside, consider replacing the name with the personal pronoun. Instead of 'John' being the agent, mix it up with 'he'. I actually more tend the other way and only use the name because I haven't used it for a while or I've switched participant in a conversation, but everyone differs. Plot wise actually I quite enjoyed it, and hey, that's most of the way there. There are some very famous names whose editing capabilities are abysmal, after all.

Yes I am definetly going to get it proof read, I have dyslexia so it is quite difficult for me but I enjoy wirtting so I muster on. I have always had difficulty with the John said, he said thing. I want it to flow without too much repetition so your feedback is greatly appreicated. Thank you for your honest opinion

[Mellified]

With your dyslexia you're really brave to write the first part of this story and then post it - nice one! I'll be interested to see what happens next. If you need help with the spelling then let me know - I can't say that I know anything about editing.

[Oxara]

I'm a bit late but...I WANT MORE!

[Obur]

Will there be the next part here?

[Blueplain]

I have begun writing it again. I shall polish what I have done and will continue to provide chapters for feedback. I am actually seriously considering trying to get it published after a lot of polishing