This year the Devil had not anticipated coming to London for
Christmas, at all. He was scheduled to be elsewhere. The far east
to be more precise. But for some inexplicable reason his particular
set of senses told him that he was needed there. So here he was.
And a good job too if his current charge was anything to go by.
Perched precariously atop Tower Bridge he was doing his utmost to
talk down a man who seemed intent on throwing himself head long
into the icy waters of the river Thames below. But what had driven
the man to such extremes? And, more to the point, how was it that
he seemed to know who he was? The plot thickens as the Devil
becomes embroiled in a plot to try and prevent Hell itself coming
to Earth.
