Crap, I almost forgot: I do not own Devil May Cry


People say life is hard, death is easy. I say life is difficult, afterlife is excruciating. Why? You know everything. But no one listens to you. You know what happened to them, but you can't tell anyone. They don't even know you're there, you were a witness, but no one can prove it. You are invisible.

I'm dead.
I watch the living.
I suffer from my inability to suffer.

But this story as of right now, is not about me. It's about her. It's 5 a.m. She's dreaming about me. She sees the broken building, she digs until her hands are bloody. In the end, she holds a piece of a tombstone in her red hands. She sobs, and then wakes up sweaty and gasping for air.

I don't.
She haunts herself.

By now her bodyguard—my replacement—has entered the room, worried for the girl. She tries to shrug it off. "It was nothing but a bad dream." Is what she says. Her bodyguard believes her, and finds it best not to mention me.

Reader, meet Kyrie. Kyrie is a songstress for the Castle Town of Fortuna. She's seventeen, she's often shy, she's heartbroken, but most importantly, she is beautiful. Then again, maybe that's just me talking. Did I mention? In my life, I loved her. In my afterlife, I still love her.

They live a simple Castellan lifestyle, away from most technology.
They have their own set of "police": The Holy Knights.
Their lifestyle is most likely different from yours.

In Fortuna, everyone's lifestyles revolve around a certain person: The Dark Knight Sparda. He is their god, they worship him, praise him, love him, swear their miserable lives to him and pray he will shield them from the storm.

Sparda did exist, he served in this town.
Sparda was a demon,
2000 years ago he separated the human world from the Underworld
This doesn't mean he's a god, though.
Just a very generous and kind being.

Yes: Demons. Some of them even dwell in this island, mostly the Mitis Forest. They are terrifying, but that's why they have the Holy Knights: They're demon slayers. I was a Holy Knight once. It was because I was a Holy Knight that I died.

No, a demon didn't kill me. You'll understand soon enough what did happen to me. But in the meantime, I am getting distracted. I'll return you to the story of Kyrie.

Like anyone in the morning, she was very tired. She rubbed her eyes and crawled out of her bed, she rubbed the temples of her forehead, trying to get rid of the memories. It didn't work. After all, I was a part of her that she could never forget. Not a lot of people could forget me, I was different from the rest of them. They wore white, I'd wear blue.

Her bodyguard Gloria began to search Kyrie's closet for something to wear. Her choice was a simple white long-sleeved gown with tall black boots. "For the Festival." She said to Kyrie, "They should look nice on you."

"Thank you, Gloria..." She whispers, her voice soft and shy, Gloria smiled.

She is tall with dark skin
Her hair is white and in a bob cut
Her eyes are blue.
She is voluptuous in everyway, down to cutting her dress in order to show cleavage.
An eye tease for every man she loves to put down.

Regardless of these facts, Gloria loves Kyrie. When they first met, Gloria didn't want anything to do with a girl who would sob uncontrollably at every little thing that reminded her of me. Gloria never knew me. I think that's a good thing. We wouldn't get along.

A small girl with long auburn hair.
Her eyes are a milky brown.
Her voice is exceptional.
Soft as she speaks.
Strong as she sings.
You pronounce it:

I said her name wrong for the longest time. I had such a problem with it that when I was young I'd resort to just calling her "Kitty". She laughed every time I said that. When we were older, she'd meow softly in my ear and kiss me on the cheek.

Gloria left the room as Kyrie got dressed. When she was ready, she walked out of her room, and Gloria escorted her down to the town to celebrate the Festival of the Blade. Kyrie was pleased, but she was also devastated. This would be the first year she spent the festival without me.

Life is tough for those left behind.

A celebration in Sparda's honor.
There are plays, acted by young children in costume.
Booths that sell sweets or gifts.
A small parade.
Happiness and Joy is spread throughout.
A sermon.

Kyrie was to sing in introduction to His Holiness's sermon. I always hated the end of the Festival. For an atheist like me, it was the most boring part.

Kyrie watched everyone play and dance in the streets, Gloria at her side. This was, in fact, Gloria's first festival, she was Kyrie's bodyguard, and now Kyrie was Gloria's guide. It made Kyrie feel better, not just being the burden everyone had to carry around. Didn't change the fact that everyone had to stare at her and whisper to each other.


"There, she's the whiny girl who cries a lot."

"She lost her lover, she has a right to be sad."

"Poor girl…if only she never met that horrid boy…"

"She needs to grow up"

Words like these make me wish I was solid again. That I could wrap my arm around her shoulder and hold her close. That I could glare at all of them and tell them to "fuck off".

Wait. I can still do that. They just can't hear or see me, and Kyrie can't feel me.


Afterlife sucks.

If there is one thing that people were right about, it was Kyrie's sudden ability to no longer smile. She never smiled since the day I became a spirit. Even showing Gloria the children chasing each other with wooden swords, she didn't smile.

As the children were laughing and playing, one of them didn't watch where they were going, and ran headfirst into the Supreme General of the Holy Knights. This little boy was mortified. The leader of the Knights was a fierce man who took down countless demons. He always had a stern look on his face. A glare that could kill.

No. He's actually not mean.

His name is Credo
He stands 5'11
His eyes are a deep brown.
His hair is a chocolate that dangles perfectly at his shoulders.
He was my boss before death, and the last one I heard call my name.

Instead of punishing the child for running without looking, like the boy thought he was going to do, Credo actually picked him up and lifted him to his feet, smiling. He even kneeled down to the boy's height, unsheathed his sword, and let the boy hold it, with Credo's help of course.

The boy was ecstatic, he was holding a real sword, made out of metal. It wasn't wooden, it wasn't short and skimpy. It was the sword of a Knight. This pleased him. He was happier than you could imagine. He even pretended that Credo wasn't there, that he was the only one holding the sword.

When the boy finally released the sword, he ran off, exclaiming, "I held a sword! I held a sword! It was real and everything!" The crowd laughed. Credo sheathed his sword, smiling.

One day that boy will be a knight. He will hold a real sword and fight real demons. He will protect His Holiness at all costs…even his own life.

Another sucker dragged into the never ending propaganda of the universe.