It is the end of the century again: the stories in Distorture are elegiac, exquisite panels written in memory of certain decayed angels.

A woman is buried by a musician who has sworn to protect her. A narcoleptic is found, still dreaming, with cryptic symbols engraved into her back. In an elegant loft, a silver-haired man studies the torso of a comatose surfer, and the bodies of the two men are transformed into an intricate work of art. These are only a few of the tortous stories of Rob Hardin, a veteran studio musician and stylist whose work has been called "impeccable" by...