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.
