Don't fear the face of Death, for he is the face of all man.

•

Some say that hell is other people; that hell is but only in the mind, and that hell is a place...but in this case it's all of the above, though just far between the cracks of life's façade. And it all starts in a town,  called (S)hellville, U. S. A. 

Rowland DeWilliers is a South African born artist who resides in this blue and yet dry American coastal haven with a lust and desire for life despite his inability to chase after it , as he scrubs dishes and tries to pay his bills. 
Upon meeting a dark stranger by the name of Nick, his dreams suddenly seem achievable and on his way to distinguished fame, he,  along with the haphazard guidance from his new aquiantance, starts to see the world anew. 

But with such enlightenment, comes the price of the shadowy darkness that which surrounds him. Until he is faced with the choice of being DeWilliers/Machapela  or becoming DEVILE.

DeVil in the Details.

Rowland felt that He didn't want to see him like this but he couldn't help it... 


Rowland could already see Nick walking away, silly him for caring. 


So he made it Fucking easier for the both of them. 


Rowland saw red, so angry that he went silent for a moment as he clenched his fists not having anything nice to say, until he caught his breath; 


"Pardon me, for the implosion. Y'know,...maybe you're fucking right.", he stated with a stiff sniff before looking down and sarcastically smirking spitefully; and with that he walked towards the entrance, turning away from Nick who abruptly swiveled and stopped Rowland with a rough left hand which pulled him back by the shoulder; 


{Exquisite Corpse Wine Soda}