Everly lowered her head to carefully examine the dried toad in her hands. Its four legs were splayed out, its body covered in countless bumps, and some symbols had been painted on its back in yellow and red pigments she didn’t recognize. It looked intricate, very subtle—exactly the kind of thing one might stereotypically imagine as an evil object.
Compared to Everly, who was a half-hearted newcomer to this kind of knowledge, Old John clearly knew his stuff. He stared at the dried toad for a while, then nodded to Everly, explaining that it was a specialty from Bolivia. In the local traditional beliefs, dried toads were thought to have strong powers to ward off evil and bring blessings, serving as a medium connecting humans with the divine.
“I once had an identical charm, with exactly the same pattern. During an operation to arrest a criminal, it blocked a bullet for me—oh, don’t be so surprised, I don’t really understand how it worked either, but it did. Take it, along with her; they both seem fine.”
Everly’s sixth sense gave her no warning either.
Taking all this into account, after some hesitation, Everly rolled up the bag containing the dried toad and tucked it into her little children’s frog wallet.
After a busy day of shopping and picking out items, it wasn’t until evening that Everly and Old John slowly returned to the gas station, carrying half a pickup truck’s worth of new furniture—and a dried toad.
Having spent the whole day outside, Everly was exhausted. After washing up, she did as usual: leaning close to her vanity mirror to look at her bare upper gums, and with a heart full of anticipation for new teeth, she went back to bed and turned off the light.
…
The next morning.
Everly woke from a night of chaotic dreams, feeling somewhat tired.
She figured it was just fatigue from yesterday and didn’t pay it much mind. She got up, shuffled to the bathroom in her slippers, and started brushing her teeth. While brushing, she suddenly felt that something was off. She raised the cup, sipped water, spat out the foam, pulled up her upper lip, and leaned close to the mirror—oh my God, she had grown teeth!
What terrible timing! Just yesterday, she had gone to the dentist and spent $150 to check her teeth, and today a new tooth was already pushing through her gums, forming a little white point about the size of a grain of rice. If it had come a day earlier, she could have saved both the round-trip gas and the $150!
Everly felt a little annoyed, but just thinking about finally getting rid of her missing tooth problem lifted her mood.
“Good, good, strong teeth—grow quickly!”
Everly sincerely prayed to the heavens.
Perhaps her prayers were heard. In the following days, every time she looked in the mirror, she could see her new canine pushing outward more and more. In just a few days, the little grain-of-rice point had grown halfway out.
Strange… had her old teeth grown this fast before?
Everly paused in puzzlement. But then she reminded herself that at age ten, bodies grow so rapidly that girls can change noticeably in just a week or two. Maybe the speed of her teeth growing was influenced by her developmental stage?
She had already forgotten the experience of losing teeth in her previous life, and there was no one around to compare with. So after a brief moment of curiosity, she pushed the thought aside and stood in front of the mirror, captivated by her new canine.
It was truly beautiful.
Snow-white, glossy enamel, the tip curved smoothly and perfectly like a crescent moon. A newborn ivory, so tempting that she couldn’t resist running her tongue over it, inch by inch, feeling the gentle prick of the rounded tip against her tongue…
“Everly, don’t keep licking your new tooth, it can grow crooked,” Old John called out as he passed by, noticing her little habit.
At his reminder, Everly realized what she had been doing. Not wanting a misshapen canine, she immediately withdrew her wandering tongue.
But some things are like that—the more you tell yourself not to do them, the stronger the urge becomes. Like licking a tooth. After reminding herself for the hundredth time not to lick it, Everly felt a rebellious thrill that made the desire even stronger. She pursed her lips like a little old lady, preparing to find something else to distract herself.
It was still summer vacation, so she didn’t have school. Old John had just bought a new batch of apocalypse supplies and was busy organizing his shelves. With no one to accompany her, Everly thought for a moment and decided to run over to the dog’s kennel to go for a few laps with Buddy.
But as soon as she approached Buddy’s nest, the dog lowered its body, bared its teeth, tucked its tail, and let out a wild bark.
“Woof! Woof woof woof!”
“Buddy, what’s wrong? It’s me…” This was the first time Everly had ever been barked at like this. She called out, trying to remind the dog of her identity with her voice.
Hearing her young owner, Buddy’s ears twitched. The dog retracted its fangs, a little confused, and walked over to Everly, circling her legs while sniffing her repeatedly.
After a while, the irritable dog finally relaxed its posture. With its tail tucked, it accompanied Everly halfheartedly in play.
It wasn’t exactly a fully satisfying activity, and by the time Everly returned from walking Buddy, she found herself once again licking her new tooth.
“No, I can’t lick… stop… stop…”
Everly looked around, found a lollipop, and popped it into her mouth. She thought that as long as something occupied her unruly tongue, it wouldn’t run amok and interfere with her new tooth’s growth.
With candy in her mouth, Everly went back upstairs and sat at her desk, opening a book. Not long ago, Old John had arranged for a box of Greek-language teaching tapes and textbooks to be mailed to her. Everly planned to study the language on her own whenever she had the chance. After all, the sea monster Lamia was a creature from Greek mythology, and she suspected that the gibberish the banshee spoke might actually be Greek.
Everly was a highly focused person. Once she began studying, she immersed herself completely in the books before her. But as she worked, she noticed that along with the sweet taste of candy in her mouth, a familiar metallic tang began to rise.
This is…
She leaned toward the mirror, opened her mouth, and saw the lollipop she had been licking down to a thin layer. It looked like a little axe, slanting sharply into the gap beside her newly grown tooth on the left. Its sharp tip had pierced deeply into the soft gum, carving a wound that began bleeding steadily.
Why does eating a candy end up like this…
Everly spat out the lollipop and instinctively extended her tongue, pressing it against the wounded gum.
It hurt… it throbbed… it was unbearable…
The blood mixed with her saliva, forming a thin, pale-red film that coated her new canine. Beneath the flush of red, the curve of the tooth was still perfect. Its smooth enamel, highlighted by the blood, didn’t look ugly—on the contrary, it possessed an almost hypnotic, eerie beauty.
Such perfect teeth… so beautiful… so amazing…
Unable to resist, Everly reached out and pressed her fingertip against the wound, smearing the flowing blood thickly over the new canine until the entire tooth was dyed a vivid red.
Bright red… beautiful… a one-of-a-kind tooth…
Without realizing it, she moved her tongue again, once more losing herself in licking her new tooth—sucking, pressing, rubbing—until the soft tip of her tongue, worn down from repeated contact, began to tear and bleed.
The bleeding tongue became a new source of blood. Generous, passionate, and intimate, it wrapped around the new canine like a devoted follower, offering the best tribute to its master, repeatedly spreading the tongue’s blood over the tooth.
Once… again… and again…
Her mouth gradually filled entirely with the taste of blood.
…
“Everly, it’s time for dinner!”
She didn’t know how much time had passed. It wasn’t until a call came from downstairs that Everly snapped out of her overly absorbed state.
Time really flies… she had only been studying for a little while, and it was already dinner time… Oh no, I can’t lick, why am I licking again!
Completely ignoring the blood in her mouth, Everly sucked on the itchy, painful wound, then ran down the stairs, thumping step by step.
Tonight’s dinner was all her favorite foods. But as she ate, Everly found she couldn’t swallow very well. Forcing herself to eat, she then licked the wound on her gums and made a request to her grandfather.
“Grandpa, I want to eat steak.”
Old John was surprised. “Steak? That’s possible… but why the sudden craving? You’re not usually fond of beef.”
“I don’t know… I just suddenly want it… preferably medium-rare, still a little bloody.” As she spoke, her teeth seemed to feel the sensation of salty, iron-rich meat pressing against them, and Everly couldn’t resist licking her canine teeth, a thrill rising in her chest.
With anticipation for her bloody meal, she looked forward to the next day.
Her body felt a little tired, listless and low on energy—perhaps she had overexerted herself the day before.
After a night of growth, the wound in her mouth had partially healed. This was good news; Everly didn’t want a mouth full of injuries to interfere with her eating.
However, while brushing her teeth, in a sudden daze, Everly’s hand moved too forcefully. The toothbrush pressed straight onto her fragile gums. A sharp pain shot through her, and she hissed, opening her mouth to find the foam coated in bright red blood, the intense metallic scent rushing straight up to her nose.
Oh no, how careless of me!
She quickly stopped brushing, grabbed some water to rinse, and then opened her mouth wide in front of the mirror, pulling up her upper lip to inspect the bleeding wound. When her gaze happened to sweep over her throat, Everly froze—around the dangling uvula, in the bright red flesh of her upper palate, a few white molars seemed to have sprouted?!
Wait, what is that?!
Everly jumped, rubbed her eyes, and looked again carefully. There were no white molars at all—it was just some foam she hadn’t spit out yet.
She patted her chest, thinking it was only a simple trick of her eyes.
After tidying herself a bit, Everly descended the stairs uneasily, sat at the dining table, and picked up a slice of bread to nibble.
Her appetite was still off today; eating too much bread made her feel a bit choked. As she ate, she lifted her glass of milk, took a sip, and as she set it down, she suddenly caught sight of a tooth again in the cup.
The tooth seemed to be soaking in the milk, the size of a peanut, perfectly formed, with root-like ends still streaked with red bits of flesh and nerve. As the liquid swirled, the tooth gently struck the glass, emitting a crisp “clink” each time.
Everly felt so disgusted she almost spat out the milk.
Even after realizing it was just an optical illusion caused by milk foam clinging to the cup, she immediately lost any desire to continue drinking.
Perhaps the shock of seeing “teeth” twice was too much; Everly started feeling paranoid.
Lunch was a medium-rare steak. As she cut the meat with a knife, a sudden, ill-timed thought popped into her mind when the blade slid through a chunk of white fat—could there be a molar hiding inside this piece of fat?
Later, while walking the dog, Buddy barked at her again, acting as if she were a complete stranger. Everly bent down to play a fetch game, picking up a stone from the ground. But the moment she gripped it, a sharp pain shot through her palm. Looking down, she saw two opposing molars sprouting on the stone, biting into her flesh and tearing her skin mercilessly.
Everly let out a silent scream in her mind and immediately tossed the stone behind her.
After calming herself slightly, she mustered the courage to take another look. The object lying on the ground was clearly just an ordinary white stone, and her palm bore no marks at all—had she imagined it again?!
The whole day had been inexplicably strange, leaving Everly utterly drained. Her enthusiasm for walking the dog vanished, so she said goodbye to Buddy and returned to her room, spreading out her books to study.
But the illusions weren’t finished with her yet.
As she studied, she frowned, feeling a sudden, inexplicable itch at the back of her head.
No way…
With suspicion and unease, Everly’s trembling hand reached toward the back of her skull. Her fingertips parted the thick golden hair, groping around until they brushed against several hard, smooth, rounded objects on her warm scalp. They seemed to have grown out of her skull, piercing the skin and protruding rigidly.
Everly shivered, grabbed a hand mirror, and held it in front of her dresser mirror to inspect the reflection carefully. What she saw was a row of half-erupted white molars, bright and clean, their tips glinting with a pearly sheen…
“Ah!”
No matter how beautiful, they were still teeth. The thought of teeth growing from the back of her head was horrifying. Everly screamed, flinging the hand mirror to the ground.
The shattering glass caught Old John’s attention. He rushed upstairs, asking what had happened. Everly, covered in goosebumps from disgust, whimpered and asked her grandfather to check the back of her head.
But Old John told her it was perfectly fine—completely normal.
“R…really?”
Summoning her courage, Everly reached back to touch her scalp once more. Sure enough, just as Old John had said, her skull felt smooth and clean, completely free of teeth.
“Maybe you’ve been paying too much attention to your canines, which caused the hallucinations… Your complexion hasn’t been good lately. Have you been sleeping properly at night? Even if you’re absorbed in your studies, you can’t sacrifice your rest,” Old John said, his voice full of concern.
Is that… really it?
Everly returned to the mirror and looked at her face. Lately, she often had strange dreams, and by morning she had completely forgotten them—only a vague sense that they had been nightmares remained. Even after a full eight hours of sleep, she would wake up aching all over, as if the fatigue had seeped out from her bones.
Indeed, her complexion was poor. In the mirror, the cheeks that were once rosy and full of blood had sunk in, turning pale. Heavy dark circles hung beneath her eyes, the corners of her mouth drooped, and her expression seemed sorrowful. She looked lethargic and completely drained, a shadow of her usual self.
Looking at herself like this… something seems off… doesn’t it?
Just as the thought of self-doubt flickered across her mind, Everly’s gaze momentarily glazed over. When clarity returned, she shook her head, dismissing the suspicion that had arisen, convincing herself it was simply exhaustion.
Tonight, she would turn off the lights earlier and get a bit more sleep.