I have a fictional manuscript needed to be proofread. The best editor will be someone who is thorough, honest and able to provide constructive criticisim pertinent my writing style. Here is a brief example.
Lush vegetation concealed Yaegar's misdeed. Obstinate, he awaited the moment his brother would exhale his final breath. Yaalon lay near Yaegar's feet, gurgling as blood filled his lungs and trailed down the sides of his mouth. He was confused and frightened as he reached out for aid.
“You want my help?”
Fading, his brother nodded weakly.
“Of course you do.”
Looking in the face which mirrored his own, the bitter twin gripped the protruding arrow’s shaft and thrust it deeper into Yaalon's heaving chest. Writhing in pain, he released a spine chilling scream before his soul escaped its tormented dwelling, leaving it limp on the river bank. Once convinced death was certain, Yaegar’s contemptuous smile broadened while he retrieved the fatal arrow.
He stripped his victim and rolled the bare corpse into the stream. As the current carried the remains toward the sea, Yaegar washed his face in the water streaked with his brother's blood. He cleaned his arrow, dried it with a portion of stolen cloth and returned it to his arsenal.
As he headed home, the kudu down river failed to react as Yaegar approached. With a spring in his step, he bellowed, “That's right, enjoy today, for you will live.”
His family was expecting to feast in celebration upon their return, but Yaegar knew there would only be sorrow. Tonight, the king and queen were to announce Yaalon as heir to the throne. Too bad their favorite son would never be seen again.
Just before reaching the compound, he threw himself into mud and tumbled in dirt, mangled his clothes and sprinted miles to break into a sweat. As he passed the guards, he pretended to be weak, nearly faint and they rushed him into the king's study.
“Yaegar!” his father exclaimed. “What happened to you?”
“I tried to find him.”
“Yaalon Father. We separated to track kudu. I heard his screams and ran to help, but never reached him. I've been searching for hours and all I discovered was this.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a remnant of Yaalon's 's hunting shirt. His father snatched the frayed cotton and held the dried blood of his second son against his face. He moaned and wailed so long, Yaegar bowed before his father and wept with him.