I wake up, seeing the sun recalling the last day with my father. His face, was normal, his posture, was normal. Before that last day his health; Normal. Everyday, all the time, always normal. Can't imagine him any other way. Just normal.

My servants died with him. They couldn't stand the idea of life without him, almost like a pathetic lover. I tie my cavaret, and look in the mirror. Unfortunatly, I do not look like him. I do not look normal. I walk down the staircase, everything was dirty, it was untouched. Eventually it will rot away, without anything I can say to make it stay. No legacy for it. I walk toward the door. It was amazing in it's time. My first party, my last party when I was 9, the doors looked bigger than everything, bigger than life. Now, I thought that the door would seem small compared to what has just happened, but it is still big. Still larger than life, and maybe even death. My hand hovers above the handle...I was waiting to break down in tears. To feel a loss. To feel lost. I was waiting for the sorrow of death to enclose on me. I was waiting for everything and everyone to just let me cry; but the the tears won't come. Am I really emotionless? No heart? No feeling? This can't be the numb phase of death. The funeral, that is when the tears come, that is when I break. But I question if I have a soul. If I am human. No emotion? No heart? No feeling? Who was this man? Did he have emotion? Did he have a heart? Did he have feeling? Was he even my father?

My hand, still hovering above the handle. I open the door, and it was wet and rainy. Completely gloomy. Then, suddenly figures, three figures enclose on me. The swarm me, pulling me back indoors. One closes the door, one was on my back, hands covering my face. The other was frantically running around me. "Stop touching me! Right now! I have a rights. And you invade my land-" It stuffed its hand into my mouth. Instictivly I bit it.

"Oy! Boy, don't be so nippy! 'ou was da one doing da hollering 'ere!" The person on my back was a young boy, he got off, me. I rubbed my eyes and there he was, he was sucking on the hand I bit. He is a young boy, three or four years younger than I. I saw a girl pacing around, poking at me, even when I prtested at her to stop. She had dark magenta hair, a very unusual color that I have never seen before. She looked at me with great curiosity. The other had solid black hair, long, she was female, she stood by the door.

"Jago! Shut that trap, and be respectful!" The girl by the door said, she pointed to the boy, his name must be Jago.

"Woman, I have a right to property and protection of myself. Because you are on my property, I have a right to shoot you dead right now." I said, standing firm, stating the legal rights I have. She had pale skin, that looked flushed and frustrated, like she was exerciseing a lot.

"I am very-Hmmm" She coughed a little, adjusting her voice. She has some sort of accent. I am not sure what it is, but it doesn't sound like it derives from a different language. "I am very sorry, Mr. Fitzroy, We weren't sure it was you. Now we do, so would you like to discuss the business now, or after the funeral?" She asked, politly.

"I have already discussed my father's inheritance, so why are you here? From the Emperor? The Empress wants to get me to do something?"

"We aren't from the um, 'Emperor' or 'Emperess'." The girl with magenta hair told me, arms crossed, and still looking at me, not with curiosity, but with doubt.

"Then where are you from?" I asked, straightning the suit I wore.

"HELL!" The boy yelped, Jago was his name. "We come from Hell, ya know, fire, enternal burning, weird punishments, oh! oh! My favorite 's that one where fortunate-tellers have there heads backwards, and then they do see where they are goin' and the one where-" The magenta hair slapped him in the face.

"NO! He will learn what is in hell, when he is there." She yelled at him. I then remembered that the very spot I stand there is a pistol underneath the tile. I use my heel to move the tile up, swoop down grab the pistol, and aim at the girl who is at the doors face, right between the eyes. She is calm. In fact she smiled. She is containing her laughter.

"Who are you. As I said. If you are on this property, I can shoot. But what are you?" I ask, I am also calm but I hate it when there are people in my house that do not belong.

"I am very sorry" She said to me. She raised her hand to the pistol, her hand over mine, and without hestitation her index finger was was ready to push the trigger. The trigger that would leave a hole in the middle of her eyes. "We are demons" she continued, "Your father had a major role in the rebuild of New-Hell. He is-was-one of Hell's councilmen. When he died, the councilmen, feeling such a strong connection to Vincent Fitzroy, your father, they comitted suicide, only to be reborn-that is a different story-your father had his assistants-our origins-but they took a bullet to the brain as well-so here we are, ready to replace them. I am Jezzelebub the first, top class demon. And to prove it, I will push the trigger-" and she did. The bullet went straight through, and indented on the door behind her. "-now demons are unable to comitt suicide." The blood dripped from her face, but dried as soon as it hit the floor, disappeared.

She walked toward the boy. "This is Jago," she placed her hands on his shoulders and shoke them "He is pretty young and not very mature, but trust me, he can and will protect you." She walked to the magenta haired girl, "This is Bezzelbub XXVI, or we love to call her Bezzy! Isn't she adorable?" Jezzelbub pinched her checks, Bezzy didn't do anything.

"Just call her whore." She said.

"No, not that! I am not! That is against the rules! No! Just call me Jezzel if you want." Bezzy then took Jezzel by the arms and whiskered her to the stairs where they started to bicker amoungst themselves. Jago was juggling.

"No! Stop that!" He was flipping my mother's vase, dynamite, and a cannon ball.

"Why?"

"because it will brake!"

"Nah. I am the best."

"At what?"

He stopped and let everything but the vase drop. "Everything." The cannonball left a dent on in the floor. "Where is the food?" he walked up to the stairs and rolled around on the marble. "This is sooooooooo amazing! Better than the one on fire in Hell"

The two girls started a cat fight, and was throwing everything. Not in my house. From anywhere. They summoned cannonballs, dirt, guns, arrows, glass bottles, shoes, anchors, hammers, trees, fruit,tables, rotton vegtables, chairs, and everything else. Just throwing it. It was everywhere, and it was dirty. Jago ran up and down the stairs, building his momentum, getting faster, faster, faster, then finally, when he was at the top, he jumped the whole thing and stopped short a few feet from my face. Very close. his eyes were glowing different colors; green, red, blue, yellow. He was inches from my nose, His nose, and mine were barely scrapping each other.

"Hay, would you like me to give you a kissy?" he asked me. I blurted no, but he gripped my chin and pecked my lips. It was horrible. Nothing felt more worse. It wasn't long, but it felt like forever. Even though his hands were soft that didn't soften the blow of my first kiss being with a boy. "Now, we are soul mates!" He hugged me, and whirled me around the room.

"I-I-I-, am going now..." I readjusted my clothes, and headed for the door, taking an umbrella with me. "You may see yourselves out..."

I felt numb about my father's death, nothing came to mind about my father except normal, but now...What was that? First they were crazy robbers, then they let out a demon side to them. And then a crazy cat fight with a gay boy kissing me? Who are they? Jezzel, Bezzy, and Jago. What are they? Demons. Do they have emotion? Yes, Jezzel felt offended when Bezzy called her a whore. Do they have a heart? Yes, Jago is bi-curious, I think. Do they have feeling?...no, when Jezzel pushed the trigger, she didn't flinch. They have no feeling, so I will just get rid of them. I don't care if they are demons, vampires, angels, UFOs, or whatever, I will be rid of them.

I went to the church, said my eulogy;

"Vincent Fitxroy, was an incrediable man. He was always there for his friends, his emperor, and his family..." ect. ect. I repeated varriations of those two sentences. "...he will be missed..." I felt nothing, for him. When everyone was done, I remembered what Miss Margot said. When it was time to say your final goodbyes, I flung myself on his casket, and cried, and cried, and cried. Everyone in that room was filled with pity, and sorrow. I felt nothing. I cried, and begged, and mourned, and threw a fit, when they tried to release me from his final resting place. I stopped and left to cry and cry and cry. I felt nothing. I had no emotion. No heart. No feeling. My tears were false, just for a show, and for pity of my rival. That basturd. Well, that basturd whoever he may be. I saw him descend into the earth. Everyone cleared out, no one actually bothered to attend the after-math thing at Miss Margot's place. I didn't attend. That would mean, whoever actually showed up I would have to share heart-felt memories about my father; which I do not have. I stared at my father's grave.

Here lies Vincent Fitzroy. A loving father, friend, loyal subject, and brother. May his legacy live on by his friends, family, and his son.

"Yeah, what is there to remember?" I said outloud.

"Well, he did help King Mortem with the rebuild of Hell." Jago said appearing right behind me, his chin on my shoulder. "Ah! What the hell, why are you here?!" I jumped.

"He also hand read and determined the places of the previous demons before Rebirth, impressive and thoughtful..."Bezzy came, also behind me. But thankfully she pulled Jago away from me. "I met him a couple of times, he is really a nice and caring man..." She said, looking at the grave, obviously remembering a moment.

"I know he is a great fighter. And he smart, and gives demons second-chances. He was even nice to Vinny..." Jezzel appeared beside me.

"Yeah, he conviced King Mortem to help me with demon training, he was the first one to ask, and he did help me..." Jago then looked at me. He was young, about 12 or 13, maybe 14, but he was looking at my father's grave, like it was his father. Like he was the son who was going make his legacy live. They all were.

"Why?" I asked them. "My father, never was proud of me. He never taught me how to ride a bike, he never made a bird house with me; no soccer, no football, no pervy magazines. I never had any of those things in my life. Why? because of that man who will rot! He is dead now. And he didn't bother to give me and last words! No 'I'm proud' or 'You are the best thing in my life' or not even a simple 'I love you'! This stone slab, marking his death! Its ridiculous, it is useless, it has no point, no reason! He never loved me. And I hate myself for not respecting him. For not loving him. I hate myself for having no emotion! No heart! No Feeling!" I kicked that grave stone, again. And again. And again. I made a chip in it, on the right corner. "I hate! I hate! I hate! No tears! No real tears at least!" Another chip was off of the stone. "I get to do all this shit you couldn't live to finish! I have these god damn demons to annoy me! Damnit! And Damn you! You jerk! You basturd! Die! I want you to Die!" I yelled and repeated, letting off the steam, the anger. I have an emotion. Rage. I have a heart. Its beating like crazy. I have feeling. Its a pain in my heart, in my mind, and in my foot.

I looked at the grave stone again. there were 5 chips that came off of the stongest stone that money could buy.

"You are the son of Vincent Fitzroy." They said in sinc, staring right at me.

Then the ground shoke, as if I was going to be next on my way down. "What is happning?" I said. "Earthquake? Yes..." I reassured myself that it was only natural.

"No. Not at all..." Bezzy said to me. a nearby tree was going to fall. Bezy came and tackled me to the ground.

"Calm yourself, it is only a quake!" Then the ground was still. "See?" She was on top of me, keeping me low to the grass. "Get off of me, get off now." I pushed her away, and tried to get up. "No you idiot! get down!" She pulled me down again. "Listen, this is a phenomona that happens when there is a death. Now make sure he doesn't see you!" she leaned in closer, her hair changed, not in color but in style; it was long, but now it was short and in a boy cut, framing her face.

"He? Who is he?"

"Vincent! Vincent is dead, but not yet! So sit here, you creep!" She silently yelled at me. I was stunned. My father is dead but not yet...Wow. I just, need to tell him what I told the tombstone. I need to do that now!

I leap from her gasp and stumble my way to his tombstone, to his grave. I see him. The last sight of him. Out of the grave, out of the ground, his upper body, halfly rotting, but still showed who he was. He didn't have a stern, square face like I remember; it was heart-shaped. I never knew that. y father looked at me, like I was his son, He wore his black suit, arm reaching out to me. He turned to his gravestone, his right hand tracing the places where the chips chipped off. The dead man trembled, he then looked at me, he was going to speak, but I had to tell him before anything else this:

"You were there, but you were never my father, and I am not your son. No emotion. No heart. No feeling, father..."

To my surprise, he held his hand to me, reaching out, he said this:

"James, I love you, you are my one and only son..."

The ground shoke again, it was brief, but my father descended into the ground once more. He was dead again.

Jezzel, Bezzy, and Jago came toward me. I stood in front of the tombstone. I fell to my knees and felt a weight has been lifted. I read his stone again:

Here lies Vincent Fitzroy. A loving father , guardian, Terrible friend, Disloyal subject, and Basturd brother. May his legacy live on by his friends, family(Only Margot, and select few), and his son. James who will

"It changed...but stopped midsentence. 'James who will- James who will?' What does this mean?"

Bezzy placed a hand on my shoulder. "Everytime someone dies, they come back to life to give the truth. They rewrite to lies that they have given and give the truth. But because you creep decide to talk to him, he isn't dead!" She smacked the back of my head. "nice going! How is it that you become a councilmen!"

"Wait! He isn't dead?" I stood up, looking at the deomns before me. "But he is! He is! He has a death certicicate and everything!"

"No! Boy! listen, if you didn't talk to him, if you just let him write the truth, you would know what was meant to be shown and he would have died! But no! You had to give him a burden on his chest and he will be roaming the earth until it is lifted! Ya hear me boy?" Jago yelled at me.

"My name isn't 'boy'. It is James Fitzroy, I am son of Vincent and Meretrix Fitzroy, I am the subject of the Emperor, Knight of the Empress, and now one of the councilmen of Hell." I walked away, only to have them follow behind me. Stunned by me, no, by the fact that I was related to that man they loved so much.

~A ride to the mansion and an hour later~

"Shut the hell up please!" I scream through the wall. "Those idoits shouldn't be up so late, I need to sleep. Who knows what is going to happen tomorrow." I review in my head what has happened.

Father dies. Demons come. Demons insist that they are my servants. Father isn't dead, yet. Demons insist on staying at my place. I am tortured all night long. Why me?