This is the crooked, surreal and dark house that Stuart Hughes and D. F. Lewis built. This is a lonely collection of shadow-filled rooms and twisted passageways where no reality is certain, and where certainty shifts and distorts. This is a place of grotesque free sex, of demon armies and clinics in which exorcism is by surgery. This is where you will find quiet tumours and the mansion with two bedsits and where you will be meticulously prepared for madness.

This is Busy Blood.