"Smoke it," the skeleton man said.
Kyle stood rooted to the floor. A naked redhead was standing next to the skeleton man, her forearms raked open, her exposed meat glistening.
"Now, you wouldn't have come if you didn't want it," the skeleton man said.
The crowd behind Kyle was growing restless. He could feel their impatient shuffling.
Kyle couldn't remember why he had come, or who had shown him this place. But the skeleton man was right. Something had pulled him here.
"I'll take it if he doesn't want it!" someone shouted.
A smile broke across the skeleton man's face like crackling ice. "It's his first time. He's nervous," he said.
Kyle stared at the long white stick the skeleton man was holding. There were crimson fingerprints on most of it, and it held the fleshy bits of the redhead's forearms. Kyle had watched the skeleton man do that.
"Still afraid? It's natural. All these men behind you felt the same way. And look at them now," the skeleton man said as he lit the cigarette.
Kyle took the proffered butt and robotically drew it toward his mouth.
"I envy you," the skeleton man said. "You'll see. It pales in comparison to other pleasures of the flesh."