What villainess am I?

Prologue (part 1)

What is it that makes one person special? Seriously consider such an idea, for one could go on for days of why one or another is special, but what makes them special? One man can be poor, the poorest there is, and yet be uniquely positioned to change the world with a word, action, or thought. 

I thought about those things as I worked. I, though I philosophized on such grand ideas, was nothing special. I lived simply, happily, and safely. No duties to constrain me, no fears to great to overcome. I was, in all honesty, content. Work did that for me, humbled me. I pulled off a mask from my belt, and placed it across my face.

I saw what I feared most, mold. As I marked it on my board I sighed, stifled by my mask. Every house was like this, at least around here. Just have to keep looking. It wasn't anything big it seemed, for now. 

As I continued walking through the house I marked on my board here and there, "outlet up to code?" Checked no, "plumping working?" No again. This house, to me, was another death trap. I'd seen many, and many more will appear. Hah... Tis the life I lead. 

I continued, checking the upstairs to find that, in fact, it had just been given new floors... Which were not done. Marked. Bathrooms, filthy; Master bedroom, hazardous. I looked up, and noticed an attic; pulling down the ladder I looked inside, not to my surprise I saw more mold... And wood damage, likely termites. How boring.

I never do get how houses can be so neglected, it pains my heart. History, family, a persons memories were made here, and yet all it is is thrown away. I click my tongue, not like anyone cares what the inspector thinks on history though. I climb down, knowing better than to try the roofs deadly bottom. I walked down to the basement, hoping for a better understanding of how the house's workings were. I walked down, looking for a switch... Weird, but not unusual. I continued to walk through the basement, turning on a flashlight. Humming to myself as I listened to some music.

"How lonely this place must be," I mused, "good area too, shame." I didn't think much of the wires, or the leaking, it happens. My music was blaring, this was my last house so I took that liberty. I found a light switch, middle of the room, and turned it on. Next thing I knew, fire, and then... Nothing. Strange, I thought. But I realized something was off, it was dark again. Really dark, a cold, eerie dark. 

I tried to grab my flashlight, but I couldn't feel anything. Then I began to panic, I felt like I was drowning. My lungs hurt, they hurt so much. I heaved at every breath, wheezing as my body tried to do anything. My eyes burned, it felt like I was on fire, but neither could truly be it. My body felt so heavy a small light drew close to me, before I crashed. My head hurt... So... Much...

---

As This Soul woke up, it realized the world around it was void. No black, no white, no... Anything. Emptiness in totality, it couldn't "see" this, however it just... Knew. It knew a lot of things right now, it knew when it was, and when it had ceased to be. It knew of who else had been, and now was, and will then be not; The world it had once known open to it as if seeing a portrait up close, but as if as far as possible from it. Time felt... Enanthema to existence now, things had been, were, and are not all at the same time. This Soul felt strange, knowing this made sense yet... It couldn't see the future that wasn't immediate. As if time was writing itself as it was, and had been, to see that the present will be the past and-

"Ahem"

The Soul turned to the Voice, which then smiled. This Soul couldn't see it, but like all things right now, it felt it. The Voice, as one might expect, spoke. Calmly, with a tone of maternal love, prankish joy, and clumsy indifference.

"Alex Marsh, born in xx/xx/xxxx to a mother and father who weren't exceptional. The average man, one might say. He was a kind man. He worked as a home inspect, and died three days ago in a gas fire. Post-mortem shows... Ugh, you humans really know how to make a death boring."

The Voice threw the paper it read, This Soul thought. Maybe it hadn't even been there... It felt all so-

"Strange, yes yes..." The Voice said, its body moving with grace... Even if there wasn't one? it continued to speak, revealing its name... Or so This Soul thought, "The Soul of Alex Marsh I, [An Hagh], God of Souls, declare you as body. Heed me."

This Soul was confused, until I realized I hadn't been "Me" I had been... Whatever we were. It's once more strange to speak as a singular... I felt... Unreal. And then my memories hit me, who I was, what I'd done... How I died. It was me! Me! I was me, it felt so strange to be unenthused to be me, yet ecstatic at the same time. 

[An Hagh] spoke, the massive thing of forest and mountain breaking my thoughts. "Child of man, and woman, I here now declare you... Dead. Let's discuss, shall we?" As if the world was made from more than void a room, seats, tea... Smell, sound, light, all of it... It was back. Well, I guess it was never meant to last. Time to hear what [An Hagh] wanted.

*---End of prologue part 1---*

As an author I'd like to know, what are your thoughts on the length, and pacing. Have you liked it, do you want longer stuff? I personally want to write more, but for now I think this is a good start. I hope you enjoy this introduction! I'll be working on the second part of the prologue, but I want some feedback first before I move on. For those of you who care about art, I'll give the link to the photo at the top:
https://www.reddit.com/r/deepdream/comments/wu6vfg/creating_a_pantheon_of_gods_which_underwater_god/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

There are three other images as well, so show the person who made it some love. Anyway, hope you have a lovely day, and till we meet again. Good luck.