2

Aoi gasped at her reflection in the mirror.

Her tongue lolled from her mouth, writhing like a separate creature, the tiny teeth at its tip clicking faintly. She clapped both hands over her mouth, trying to force it back, but a sharp pain shot through her fingers. The teeth on her tongue tore her skin, and blood dripped.

Panic swallowed her thoughts. Clinging to the reception counter, she stopped searching for the exit key, trembling.

Then, from the back of the waiting area, the door to the treatment room creaked open. A man's silhouette emerged. Aoi's gaze snapped up.

It was Sato, the clinic's dentist.

Sato was in his early forties, lean, with thin gold-rimmed glasses. His short, gray-flecked hair was neatly combed, his pristine white coat unwrinkled. His eyes were sharp, capable of diagnosing a patient's dental issues with a single glance.

But now, those eyes were clouded, unfocused. In his hand, a dental drill hummed softly.

"Aoi, you're making quite a racket this late."

His voice was calm, but eerily mechanical.

He stepped forward, switching off the drill. Silence returned, though Aoi's ears still caught the faint slither of flesh stirring beneath the floor.

Gripping the counter's edge, she forced words out.

"Dr. Sato… something's wrong with the clinic. Teeth, flesh, coming from the walls…"

Her voice broke, fear fraying it.

Sato tilted his head, advancing slowly into the waiting area. His footsteps echoed unnaturally on the tiles. Aoi glanced down. The tips of his polished shoes seemed to sink into the floor, as if the tiles had turned to soft membrane.

He stopped before her, leaning in close. His breath carried the sting of disinfectant mixed with a sickly sweet rot.

Aoi shrank back, cornered against the counter's edge. Sato smiled, pulling a small dental mirror from his pocket. He brought it to her lips, prying them open.

"Easy now. Let me take a look."

Aoi tried to resist, but his fingers were unnervingly strong, locking her jaw in place. The mirror slipped into her mouth, cold metal grazing her teeth, prodding the alien thing on her tongue.

A sob escaped her throat.

The mirror reflected more than just the teeth sprouting from her tongue. Her gums were swollen, something writhing beneath them. Sato's eyes narrowed, a satisfied smirk curling his lips.

"Remarkable. It's already begun."

His words iced her heart.

He withdrew the mirror, picking up the drill instead. It whirred to life, its spinning tip scattering the fluorescent light.

Aoi bolted. She leapt off the counter, crashing into a waiting room sofa. The cushions sank unnaturally under her weight, a wet squelch rising from within. Glancing back, she saw red liquid seeping from the seams, crawling across the fabric like thin veins, coiling around her arm.

"Don't run, Aoi. This is treatment."

Sato approached slowly. Each time his coat brushed the membranous floor, red streaks trailed behind.

Blood dripping from her mouth, Aoi scrambled over the sofa, ducking behind the counter. Her bare feet flinched at the floor's cold tiles and the occasional soft pulse of flesh.

Sato's footsteps drew closer. She held her breath, curling beneath the counter.

Then, her eyes caught something carved into the counter's underside: countless tiny toothmarks, as if something had gnawed at the wood.

She reached out, quietly sliding open a drawer. No pile of teeth this time—just a stack of old patient charts. She grabbed one, illuminating it with her phone.

No names, no addresses. Just scrawled notes in red ink: "Proliferation of abnormal oral tissue," "Observation of self-generating teeth." At the bottom, Sato's signature.

A chill gripped her spine. He knew. He knew what was happening in this clinic.

Sato's footsteps stopped. Above her, the drill's whine resumed.

Aoi crushed the chart in her fist and crawled out from under the counter. She darted across the waiting area, heading for the sterilization room. There was an emergency exit there—she hoped.

Pushing open the door, she was hit by the thick stench of blood. The red stain in the sink had spread, spilling onto the floor.

She gripped the sink's edge, searching for the exit. The doorknob was soft, yielding like flesh under her grasp. Tiny teeth sprouted from its surface, pricking her palm.

"Aoi, refusing treatment only makes it worse."

Sato's voice came from behind. He stood in the doorway, drill in hand. Beyond him, the corridor walls pulsed, rows of teeth flickering in and out of sight.

Clinging to the sink, Aoi caught her reflection in the sterilizer's glass door. Her eyes bulged unnaturally, fine veins spreading around her pupils like gums.

She screamed, smashing the sterilizer's door. Glass shattered, slicing her arm. Her blood dripped into the sink, mingling with the fleshy floor.

Sato stepped closer, the drill's hum rattling her eardrums. Aoi grabbed a sterilized scaler from the sterilizer and hurled it at him. It grazed his shoulder, embedding in the wall. Blood sprayed from the wall, staining his coat.

He laughed, raising the drill. Aoi kicked the sink's edge, slamming her body against the exit door. The toothed knob stabbed her stomach, but she shoved harder, forcing it open.

Beyond the door was darkness.

Cold wind stung her skin. Without looking back, Aoi plunged into the void. Sato's laughter and the drill's drone faded behind her.

Her feet landed not on asphalt but on something soft, fleshy. In the darkness, the teeth on her tongue began to click again.