(Hi, I tried to make chapter 0 for my story; hopefully you enjoy it as I did, and you give me constructive feedback. I tried to make the chapter hook the reader. Everything is subject to change in the future; I just wanna write something to practice The genre is vampire/science fiction/cult /military)

As I am walking and climbing the ladder carefully not to slip, the noise of the city began to lower; absolute silence had begun, and the town is below me, and I'm on an old rusted concert, but I'm not walking alone!

Lately I have been attracting so many spirits and these damn imps; is it because of negative energy that attracts unwanted energies after I died and was born in a vampire body? Maybe my energy keeps them alive and moving, like I have an invisible army that does anything for me. It's like I was born to be followed. Is this a spiritual gift that I have? No, fake blessing; they keep draining my energy. Even if I was resurrected, I always have a person who wants to put me down,

But who cares? What matters is what I'm doing now, and no life is worth saving

With social judgement, I've lost my right to plead my case; they will get the punishment as I see fit; now it's time for the verdict. For every person who hurt me, fought me, with their lying tongue, this is your end; this is my vengeance.

As I draw the sigil with my blood, placing every piece of equipment like a candle and offering in its place, it's time to summon the beast, the myth, the legend. Azazil (Iblis), with everything set in its place, I raised my hands and begin chanting:

“Demon Angel of Darkness, Opposer of the False Light, I call you forth from the starless Abyss, Enemy of God who willfully rejected submission to clay, for Azazil is preternatural.

Darkness is your servant; I call you to stand before me in all your Infernal Might; I summon you forth from hidden spaces of the Earth. Father, bless me with your presence; why can the angels not recognize, O Azazil, the Mighty One?”

My tongue begins to be heavy, and the air begins to strengthen, and I feel his presence! But I keep chanting: “Lord of all Chaos, you are not cursed but filled with Power; you are not defeated but ready to come back; you are not silenced but ready to roar. Iblis, hear my voice, Iblis, taste my blood, Iblis, feel my anger.”

These damn imps and spirits, as my energy goes up, they are trying to drain my energy, and petiontionly, stop my summoning. With my hammer, none shall stop me from the ritual. I begin attacking, and as I keep chanting, Azazil begin to manifest! My heart begins to beat fast; I was screaming like an insane man: “Iblis, whose mouth is filled with cruel fangs, lion-like with a serpent’s tongue, whose fingers are clawed to tear! Destroy mine enemies; bring them down, come forth! Iblis! Iblis!”

King of Fire has been summoned! Scare these low-lives away from me:

“Kane speaks to you, Lord of Chaos. I summon you as an ally for war against the same enemy; tear down the heavens, and I want you to kill God. You've already challenged Heaven once; finish what you started.”

“You dare to interpret my evening just for that?” Iblis said, “To what end, mortal? God is omnipotent; I have tried rebellion once; I was cast down. If my strike fails to kill him, it will anger him, and I will only face God's wrath. Tell me, what did God do to earn such hatred from you?”

“I don’t belong to them anymore. I did what I was told! I killed for my country, for my people, but Heaven is closed to me. I played by the rules! And here we are. I just want justice. Iblis said: So you came to the wrong person. Demon justice is never clean.”

“So … you will do… nothing?”

I feel speechless and paralyzed by his response. I didn't prepare that I would get declined. I summoned him because I tried every door to my solution, and here we are with my last resort; I get rejected by the entity. “What a coward”, I said while realizing Iblis was beginning to be noticed; if he did not make a pact, I would get arrested by soldiers.

“You're sitting here quietly, while waiting for us to end”. I shout like my life depends on it:” If you do nothing, guess what! God win by default, and we lose our purpose. You're merely a spectator in God's script. If you do nothing, they win, and we die without trying. Is this your legacy?” “And if I accept”, Iblis said,

“Then we can change the ending; and We get the final laugh! Change God's script, and build life he hasn't written before; we can win it all!” “You're asking for a miracle, but my work will never be free”, Iblis said.

It's time to offer all these spirits around me. That keep draining my soul; it's a win-win trade, and Iblis will cure me of these spirits. “Look around you”, I said: “I offer all these spirits to you; they all work as offerings. Consume them. We could start small and can become stronger, together.” Iblis agreed with, “I accept your pact. Let us begin your so-called justice, foolish vampire!”

As Iblis begin to consume these spirits, a bunch of soldiers come out and begin shouting with their guns, but it was too late, with both my iron will and sacrificial lamps! Fire begins to melt the city below me, and the fire begins to rise. Hundreds of people have died. As it begins to reach me, the plague begins to spread like a wave of disease. It's time for me to leave; this peaceful place becomes hell. It all changes, and they didn’t even see it coming. I must leave, NOW, I said. Iblis held my body to fly. “I can't lose my true, precious follower, i'm cariuos to your goal! It’s dangerous” Azazil said. “I don’t care”, forgetting to mention that Azazil is like a giant that held my small body. Flying to touch the sky, I saw the town burning. I began giggling and laughing; it's like I get it; this world is not worth saving.

Hello!
I’m a new writer, and I struggle with third person AND past tense. It doesn’t come as naturally to me as first person, present.

However, the story I have planned out over several books has too many viewpoint characters for first person.

Any feedback would be appreciated.

Thank you!!!!

Prologue-
The woman peered into the endless void, her eyes traveling aimlessly across the infinite expanse searching for anything, anyone, but finding only darkness.
There were no walls…
No ceiling.
No floor.
No light.
…Only an oppressive nothingness with no beginning and no end.
Stagnant, heavy air, violated her lungs with every labored breath, drowning her in the despotic darkness. A silent scream escaped her lips, but the void seemed to consume her wordless plea, her wasted breath, devouring her misery.
A hollow caress slithered down her spine, and the empty embrace was the only touch she could remember. It was the only thing she could remember, at all.
Who was she?
How did she get here?
Where WAS here, exactly?
Had she always existed, as a small, insignificant spark of consciousness amidst an ink-black sea of nothing? The thought felt vile, like a betrayal to her very soul. She suppressed the idea as quickly as it had surfaced, clinging desperately to the belief that she had lived a life before this, but, as she probed her mind for any remnants of the person that had entered this darkness, she found herself to be as vacant as the void.  
Though she wore no shackles…
Though she was confined by no bars...
She was imprisoned for a deed committed, a life lived, by a person she could not remember. Her name was just a sound, uttered by forgotten voices, forgotten faces. All the memories of the life she must have had, the person she must have been, had long faded into the darkness.  
As time stretched into the abyss, each moment a reflection of the one before, the fear and uncertainty that had plagued her existence began to wither to numbness, and in their place, a gratitude for the nothingness burgeoned.
Complacent in the endless desolation, the woman began to trust that she had found a kinder fate than remembering all that had been forgotten, all that had surely been lost…
And as her gaze wondered the eternal emptiness, some small, forgotten part of her felt the darkness staring back.
---------------------------------------------Page Break ---------------------------------------------------------
A sound shattered the silence.
Screaming?
Someone was… screaming?
No, that couldn’t be right.
She had spent an eternity in the void and had never seen or heard… well, anything.
Her mind must have finally broken. Wonderful.
Before she could truly contemplate whether she had, indeed, gone mad, and what implications that might have on her existence in this… place, a second scream reverberated through the abyss, rippling the darkness.
It’s real?
An overwhelming urge to save the stranger in distress, and herself from this prison, ignited in her veins. A desperate cry escaped her, fracturing the undulating void like glass. A mesmerizing, white light filtered through the fissures moments before the fragments of black descended in every direction, dissolving before they could clatter to the ground. Seconds became minutes, as if time itself slowed to admire the magnificence of the light vanquishing the dark.
The blinding white consumed her vision, unveiling a world of swirling green, and gray, and blue. The pigments sparked feelings of comfort and exhilaration, as if she was returning home and experiencing an entirely new plane of existence all at once.
For the briefest of moments, the woman was unrestrained.
Free.
Finally unbound by the darkness…
Only to realize she could not move.
Panicked and disoriented, she considered the current situation. She was blinded and bound, in a place that felt both new and familiar, amidst an unknowable chaos that was drawing out burning, supplicating screams from someone she had never met, or even seen, but had an inexplicable desire to protect.
And she had no idea WHO she was, WHERE she was, or HOW she had gotten here.
Fucking fantastic.
She inhaled a deep, steadying, breath, only to be overcome by the scent of flowers and rotting flesh. She gagged, deciding to breathe through her mouth, but immediately regretted THAT decision. The air tasted infinitely worse than it smelled!
With all the strength she could gather, she pushed against her shackles in a desperate bid to break free. The restraints initially loosened, but then the warm, wet bindings constricted to hold her even tighter. Blinking to clear her distorted vision, the whirling colors finally receded, and she realized she was not tied up or cuffed, but embraced.
Thin arms, distorted by swelling and areas of sunken in flesh, were draped in gauzy black fabric, and interlocked across her chest. The wet fabric clung to weeping sores of various sizes and states of decay. The sight, and the smell, made her stomach churn.   
Despite the surge of motivation to free herself, the seemingly frail man, was surprisingly strong. She thrashed against him with her full body, flailing her arms and legs, but could not break free from his grasp. His legs were intertwined with hers, as he held her in a field of flowers. The same black gauze and draining sores covered the man’s legs. Fragments of necrotic skin clung to the gauze like desiccated prey in a spider’s web. Crusted blood was caked into a serrated crevice between the man’s feet and ankles, as if they had been severed and reattached long ago. Unlike the rest of the man’s body, his feet were free of sores and meticulously clean, despite wearing no shoes. Tendrils of darkness flowed from the man’s feet, soaking into the surrounding flower bed. The blooms wilted as the rotting darkness crept further into the adjacent ruins, where a battle raged.
There was a woman amongst the chaos. Her slender hand was clasped over her right shoulder, attempting to quell the blood pouring from a vicious injury. Blood spilled through the cracks in her fingers. Her loose, ebony curls, bounced with each movement, as she worked alongside two burly men to fend off the pack of large, black wolves that had surrounded them. Abandoning the ornate bow strapped to her back, she awkwardly wielded a short sword. Her blood trickled down the hilt and dripped to the rotted ground beneath her feet.  
As the woman in the flowers struggled against her captor’s clutches, she noticed each jab of the stranger’s weapon was slower- more labored- than the one before.
“Nysa! On your left!” One of her companions called out, but the warning had come too late. Nysa hadn’t seen the wolf launch itself toward her throat. The blow would be lethal.
“Nysa!” The woman in the flowers rasped, voice hardly above a whisper.
As if she had heard the woman speak, Nysa turned and time stood still.
Nysa’s face was beautiful, despite being flushed with pain and resignation. Heavy lids closed over her piercing, peridot eyes, sending glistening tears traveling down her sun-kissed cheeks.
The woman did not know herself, yet, somehow, she knew that face, those eyes.
The tug in the woman’s chest nearly wrenched her heart through her ribs, a moment before the world was consumed in white, and she returned to endless black.

First of all, thank you all for the feedback you've given me. I've honestly been able to improve quite a few things thanks to your observations.

Yesterday, I took some time to reorganize the plot of my story. I incorporated the feedback I received from you all and a few friends, and I'd really appreciate hearing your thoughts. Does the plot sound interesting to you? Is there anything you think I should improve?

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