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.

And once that was done, it gave him no other choice but an opportunity to try and understand what was actually fucking going on. Detective Saint-Jermaine said all evidence lead to Oliver, the Moon flower, the hydrochloric acid, the book...; Oliver fucking Mooney... Was the paralytic flower his calling card? How much evidence did that book hold? 


Paralysing his victims before he, tore them apart like some arachnid... 


Rowland only knew that chipped tooth grin behind quiet green eyes. What the fuck did he miss? What the fuck was he missing? 


Sleep of reason creates Monsters