The fall of mankind begins with just one man, a man who sells his soul piece by piece. Perhaps he does it with the purest of intentions or perhaps he does it because he’s a greedy, grasping evil son of a bitch. Either way the results are the same: hell on earth. Jack Dreyden, a doctoral candidate in ancient languages, begins his road to hell when he translates an ancient scroll that was never supposed to see the light of day. At first it seems to be the usual semi-coherent mumbo jumbo found in every Egyptian burial chamber, but when Jack is attacked by the living remains of someone who had been dead for the last 5,000 years he is thrown into an adventure that not only threatens his life and his very soul, it also threatens the entire planet. The art of necromancy is suddenly alive and well in New York City and there is no room in this fight for a nice boy like Jack. He finds that the only way to beat a necromancer who can command the true undead by the millions is by getting his hands bloody and his soul filthy. He can only win by getting mean. By taking everything from his enemy, including his crown and his title: King of the Dead.