Getting extra rest did no good. Everly’s hallucinations hadn’t lessened—they were intensifying.
While brushing her teeth, she opened her mouth and immediately saw her upper palate filled with teeth. Round molars were packed densely, extending deep into her mouth like bricks, covering her entire upper jaw and stretching inward toward the depths of her throat.
Everly knew it was a hallucination. She closed her eyes, waited a moment, and reopened them, trying to suppress it that way—but this time the vision lasted longer and felt more real than ever. When she looked in the mirror again, the strange teeth were still there.
She reached a hand into her throat, touching her upper palate, hoping that the sense of touch would convince her it was all an illusion—that these teeth didn’t exist.
But the next second, her fingertips brushed something warm, smooth, and hard. As she traced over the molars, she could even feel the uneven surfaces of the teeth rubbing against her skin, a gritty resistance she couldn’t ignore.
They… really… don’t exist?
And how far down did these teeth extend… into the esophagus, the stomach, or the intestines?
A sudden, overwhelming wave of nausea hit her. Everly could no longer hold back and grabbed the sink, vomiting violently.
She hadn’t eaten breakfast; her appetite had been poor the night before, and she had eaten very little. After a long bout of vomiting, only a yellowish, transparent sour liquid came up.
As she continued, she heard a faint “clack… clack” by her ear. Breathing heavily while gripping the sink, it took her a moment to realize what it was—the sound of teeth inside her esophagus, growing along its walls, scraping and colliding as her digestive tract moved.
“Ugh…”
Tears streamed down her face as she vomited for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, when she calmed herself and mustered the courage to open her mouth again, the ironic truth appeared: the terrifying teeth that had filled her upper palate and throat were gone. Before her eyes, her mouth held only the normal, lonely two rows—one upper, one lower—perfectly ordinary.
Among all her teeth, Everly’s new tooth shone the brightest. It seemed to have absorbed all the vitality and life force of its owner, standing tall and proud on her gum like a crescent moon scattering pale light across the night sky. No matter where she looked, it always drew her attention first.
Ah… what a perfect tooth…
Everly, mesmerized, reached out to touch the nearly grown tooth. Suddenly, a thought struck her: if every tooth growing inside her body could be as perfect as this one, then even if she were swallowed by her own teeth, becoming nothing more than a breeding ground for them, it wouldn’t matter.
Yes… it wouldn’t matter, as long as the teeth growing were perfect.
So, the bad teeth needed to be eliminated…
When another hallucination appeared, showing a molar sprouting on the back of her left hand, Everly, in a daze, raised a table knife and plunged it into her hand.
“Puchi!”
“Everly, what are you doing?!”
Across the table, Old John watched in horror as his granddaughter, mid-meal, suddenly went mad and stabbed the back of her own hand with the knife. He dropped his fork and rushed over to her.
“Bad tooth… remove… not perfect…”
Everly, as if possessed, muttered incomprehensible words while gripping the knife tightly, trying to gouge a piece of flesh from her hand.
“Everly! Snap out of it!” Old John yanked the knife from her grasp, threw it to the floor, and pressed his palm hard against her bleeding hand. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting so strange these past two days!”
“Remove… don’t want it…”
Everly continued repeating her strange words, her eyes blank as she stared fixedly at her hand.
Out of Old John’s sight, the imperfect molar on the back of her hand finally gave way under her efforts. Fresh blood gushed from the base of the tooth, and wherever it flowed—across skin and table—semi-transparent pale yellow blisters began to swell. They started the size of grains of rice and rapidly expanded, until with a pop, they burst open, revealing the crooked, pale yellow molar inside.
“Bad teeth… all bad teeth… must be removed…”
“Ahhhh!” Everly let out a piercing scream and flung her arm with all her strength. Old John felt a sudden, overwhelming force. With all his strength, he couldn’t restrain the hysterical girl—she broke free instantly.
When did she become this strong…?
Once free, Everly walked to the opposite side of the table, head lowered, and picked up Old John’s table knife, raising it again as if to harm herself.
Old John’s eyes widened in alarm. “Everly!” he shouted. Ignoring the food scattered across the table, he lunged forward, intercepting the knife with his arm before it could stab her.
“Puchi!”
Under the immense force, the knife pierced through the skin and muscle of his arm, going straight through. Blood gushed from the wound, hot and thick, dripping onto Everly’s hand.
Everly’s eyelashes fluttered.
Her eyes were still empty, her blue irises unfocused, like a living wandering soul. But somehow, a faint glimmer of moisture appeared in her dimmed eyes.
“Grandpa… tie me… dry toad… wallet…”
She opened her mouth, tears rolling silently down her face, forcing out a broken string of commands through her throat.
The last shred of clarity vanished. The girl screamed and yanked the knife again, attempting to stab her own hand.
Having lived together for so long, Old John had long developed an unspoken understanding with his granddaughter. Hearing her words, a sharp light flashed in his eyes. No longer hesitating, he endured the pain in his arm, grabbed her wrist, and forcibly wrenched the knife from her hand.
Then, seizing the brief moment while Everly searched for another weapon, Old John quickly opened a nearby cabinet drawer and pulled out a sleek, black stun baton.
“Zzzz!”
Blue arcs of electricity flashed, and the hysterical girl shuddered violently, collapsing forward. Her limp body was steadied by Old John. Seizing the moment while she was immobilized, he fetched straps and ropes and expertly bound Everly tightly to the chair, even looping a rope across her mouth to prevent her from biting her own tongue.
Only once the struggling girl was securely restrained did he feel safe enough to leave the dining room briefly. He went upstairs to Everly’s bedroom, retrieved her children’s wallet, and took out the dried toad the so-called fortune teller had given her.
He remembered the fortune teller saying that the item had to be burned to ashes and the powder mixed with water to drink.
Old John wasn’t sure if this South American protective charm would actually work, but given the emergency, he followed his granddaughter’s wish. He poured alcohol over the dried toad, set it aflame, then quickly mixed the ashes with warm water. Using a syringe, he carefully administered the grayish liquid into Everly’s mouth.
The moment the grimy mixture entered her mouth, a change occurred. Just a second ago, her face had been twisted in rage, every muscle tensed, struggling to break free from the chair. The next, it was as if a frenzied addict had finally received the relief they craved. Everly’s violent, wild energy suddenly receded; her vacant eyes flickered, and sharp rationality returned.
“Everly, how do you feel?” Old John asked, removing the rope from her mouth, his voice full of concern.
Everly furrowed her brow, struggling to process the memories suddenly resurfacing in her mind—the white corridors, the strange rooms, eyes forcibly held open, bizarre videos filled with muttering, and the sudden alarms triggered when she looked at the screen… Why had she suddenly forgotten everything that happened after entering the room? Had someone tampered with her memory—and if so, how was that even possible?
A flood of memories struck Everly like a chisel hammered into her skull, pounding her brain until her head throbbed unbearably and her features twisted in pain. She let out a hiss, forcing herself to endure, but as time passed, the agony didn’t lessen—it intensified. The center of the pain shifted from her skull to the upper left gum of her teeth.
“Pain…” she murmured.
“You stabbed the back of your hand with the table knife. Feeling pain is normal. Wait a moment, and I’ll help bandage your wound,” Old John said. He quickly cut the ropes binding her arms and legs with scissors. Turning to grab the first aid kit, he was interrupted by Everly’s sudden call: “Mirror.”
“What?”
“Grandpa… I need a mirror…”
Everly lifted her hand to her upper gum, cold sweat pouring from her forehead and wetting her hair. It was a pain she had never felt before, as if someone had pulled the nerves from deep within her tooth roots, strung them like instrument strings, and plucked them to play a heavy metal symphony. Each pluck tugged and stretched her nerves, sending waves of ripping, searing pain. The music was endless, and so was the pain…
It really… hurt too much… Why did it hurt like this? That tooth was definitely not normal!
When Everly was fully conscious, Old John rarely questioned her decisions. He hurriedly found a mirror and handed it to her. Trembling, she took it and held it up to her open mouth.
Between her two regular rows of white teeth, a sharp canine jutted out. It was slightly larger than the surrounding teeth, with a pale yellow tinge beneath the white. Its enamel was worn away, leaving the tooth looking gray, grimy, and foul. Rather than a new tooth, it seemed like a bone dug up from some forgotten patch of earth.
This could not possibly be her tooth!
—From her gum had grown a tooth that didn’t belong to her!
Realizing this, Everly trembled all over, goosebumps breaking out on her arms. She fought the urge to vomit, leapt from the chair, and stumbled into the garage. She rifled through the toolbox and pulled out a pair of pliers.
“Everly…”
“I’m fine, I’m completely lucid now… This tooth is wrong. I have to pull it out!”
The pain continued to intensify, rapidly reaching a level that made breathing difficult and vision blur. If she delayed any longer, the tooth might drain her completely… She couldn’t hesitate. She had to act, quickly and decisively.
With that thought, Everly forced a grimace at the worried old man—a smile worse than crying—sniffed, drew in a deep breath, and clamped the pliers onto the bizarre, sharp canine. She pulled with all her strength, trying to wrench it free.
Though the tooth did not belong to her, its roots were like a massive tree, burrowing deep into Everly’s gum and greedily siphoning the energy and nutrients from her healthy body. It was a leech, a parasite, a dodder vine—once it latched on, it would cling tightly, impossible to dislodge.
“Ugh—aaaaahhhhh!”
Everly yanked downward, tearing, veins bulging across her hands. The more she pulled, the more excruciating it became. The more excruciating, the more she pulled… She felt that on the other end of the pliers, she wasn’t merely wrestling a tooth, but something far more terrifying and powerful.
But she refused to lose. She would not lose. She absolutely could not lose. Any retreat meant being drained, devoured, absorbed—she would not, she would not die!
Suddenly, warmth spread across her hands. Another rough, strong hand reached out, grasping the pliers alongside Everly’s.
Everly tilted her head back, tears blurring her vision, and met her grandfather’s concerned, aching gaze. His arm still bled, pierced through by the knife she had driven into it. Yet with those injured, trembling hands, he stood resolutely beside her, grasping the pliers and pulling with all his strength alongside her. Muscles bulged along his arm in sharp, alarming curves, each sinew flexing as blood spattered around them. Together, they heaved, exerting every ounce of power—
“Ahhhh… aaaahhhhhh!!!”
Bit by bit, inch by inch… until, after a pain so intense it felt as if her very soul was being torn away, Everly’s head arched backward, and the force in her hands suddenly went limp.
Looking down, she saw the pliers had finally succeeded. Between the jaws lay the grayish, dull yellow canine. From its base trailed more than a dozen thin, red, writhing tendrils like ironworms. In the sunlight, they writhed wildly, hissing and crackling, emitting a strange black smoke that quickly turned to ash.
The grotesque tooth that had invaded her mouth was finally pulled free…
“Haha… hahahaha!”
Everly laughed out loud, then her knees gave way, and with a thud, she collapsed to the floor.
Old John wasn’t much better off. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, crouched down, and gently embraced his granddaughter with his bloodied arm. Then, holding her hand, he shuffled slowly, step by step, back into the house with her.