The scent of patchouli filled the pitch-black air. He felt a presence in the room, but he wasn't afraid, just curious. The heat in the room caused him to throw off the covers and the sound of crackling flames pierced the stillness. Was he in hell? His burning body stiffened as the presence caressed his face with a faint, seductive draft. His tongue licked parched lips. Out of the darkness, a hand offered something he couldn't see. One by one, long, thin fingers with blood-red nails peeled away at the object nestled in the palm—an offering. Brilliant light blinded him and then dimmed to reveal a bright, red apple...he reached out and ate. A guitar riff shattered the silence.
