They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, but if you ask Castor he’ll tell you there’s quite a bit of arrogance and reckless stupidity lining the streets as well. And he should know. There’s only so many times you can play both sides against the middle and get away with it. Now, the inevitable moment of crisis has arrived and it’s left Castor with blood on his hands. Well, not his hands, you understand; it’s always someone else who pays the bill: friends, acquaintances, bystanders.
So Castor drowns his guilt in cheap whisky, while an innocent woman lies dead and her daughter comatose, his few remaining friends fear for their lives and there’s a demon loose on the streets. But not just any demon – this one rides shotgun on his best friend’s soul and can’t be expelled without killing him.
Looks like Felix Castor’s got some tough choices to make, because expel the demon he must or all Hell will break loose. Literally . . .
So Castor drowns his guilt in cheap whisky, while an innocent woman lies dead and her daughter comatose, his few remaining friends fear for their lives and there’s a demon loose on the streets. But not just any demon – this one rides shotgun on his best friend’s soul and can’t be expelled without killing him.
Looks like Felix Castor’s got some tough choices to make, because expel the demon he must or all Hell will break loose. Literally . . .