An excerpt from one of my stories, which, on a first draft, has 32+ pages.
As the rain pounded on the rooftops of the village, it seemed as though the noise the droplets were making would awake even a deaf man from his slumber.
Amidst the rain, a cloaked figure ran, using the noise of the rain to cover his existence. A light shined to his right, a torch in a building. As he continued to run, out of the darkness loomed an eerie and mysterious building.
Looking up in amazement at the magnificent stonemasonry, the man did not watch his footing, and so slipped and fell. He just lay there, terrified that someone had seen him.
However, as the minutes passed and nothing seemed to happen, he got up and brushed the mud off his cloak. Partially blinded by the mud in his eyes, the man stumbled forward and quite heavily hit a large wooden door.
The man winced in pain but ignored it nevertheless. On the door, the occasional lightning bolt would reveal a sign: TOWNE MORGUE.
Feedback and criticism are welcome.