Aoi ran through the darkness.
The ground beneath her bare feet was springy, fleshy, clinging to her soles. The air was thick with moisture, and each breath carried the taste of iron and saliva across her tongue.
The teeth sprouting from her tongue moved as if alive, nipping lightly at the inside of her lips. The pain snapped her focus back to reality. Her phone's light was dead, useless, so she stretched her hands forward, parting the blackness as she stumbled on.
Behind her, the distant whine of Sato's drill mingled with the pulsing throb of the fleshy ground.
Her fingers brushed something cold and solid—a wall. Its surface was slick, faintly damp.
Aoi traced the wall, feeling for its shape. It was textured with regular ridges. She paused, running her fingers over them. The ridges were teeth, embedded in the wall, trembling at her touch.
Her stomach knotted. This darkness wasn't outside the clinic. She was still trapped in some vast, oral abyss.
"Where am I…?"
Her voice dissolved into the void. From above came the sound of dripping mucus.
Aoi ducked, shielding her head. A drop landed on her shoulder, hot and corrosive, searing her skin. She clenched her teeth, feeling the teeth on her tongue draw blood in her mouth, and ran along the wall.
The toothed wall stretched endlessly, grazing her fingers with light bites. The air grew denser, her lungs laboring as if drowning in saliva.
The wall ended abruptly, and she pitched forward, collapsing. The ground was softer here, swallowing her hands as it yielded.
Crawling, her fingers grazed something hard. She grasped it, tracing its form.
Long, sharp-tipped—a dental pick.
The kind used in the clinic to scrape tartar. But monstrously large, as long as her arm.
Aoi clutched the pick, wielding it like a weapon. A faint glimmer flickered in the dark. She squinted, searching for its source.
The light came from a massive tooth.
It loomed in the darkness, a molar magnified hundreds of times, its translucent enamel laced with red veins. At its base, gum-like flesh writhed, pulsing.
Aoi held her breath. The tooth rotated slowly, facing her. Deep within its enamel, a black shadow swayed like a pupil. Her heart lurched. This wasn't just a tooth. It was alive.
"You can't escape, Aoi. It'll only hurt more."
Sato's voice echoed from within the tooth.
He was nowhere in sight, but his face materialized on the tooth's surface. His glasses glinted, his mouth twisting into a warped smile.
Aoi swung the dental pick, but the tooth knocked it from her grasp. The pick stabbed into the fleshy ground, spurting blood-like fluid. She staggered back as the tooth's fleshy base ensnared her ankle, warm and clinging, its tiny teeth gnawing at her skin.
Screaming, Aoi tore the flesh away. Blood streamed from her ankle, absorbed by the ground. The tooth loomed closer, its enamel reflecting her face. Her eyes bulged unnaturally, her pupils ringed with red, gum-like veins. The teeth on her tongue multiplied, filling her mouth. She tried to close her lips, but the teeth pierced them, blood trickling down her chin. Covering her face, she sank to her knees.
"See? This is what happens when you ignore me."
Sato's voice reverberated from the tooth. Its surface flickered, projecting images of the clinic.
Aoi polishing instruments, cleaning patients' teeth, adjusting the chair at midnight—all distorted, warped. In the background, shadows of teeth and flesh loomed, unnoticed by her as she worked.
The scene shifted to Sato scribbling in a chart: "Oral evolution," "Activation of self-generating tissue." His smile widened across the projection.
Aoi lurched to her feet and charged the tooth. Her hands plunged into its surface, shattering the enamel. Blood and saliva sprayed. The tooth let out a guttural wail, the fleshy ground convulsing.
She thrust her hand deeper, seizing a vein-like structure and ripping it free. The tooth crumbled, the darkness trembling. Her vision flared white, a ringing filling her ears. She collapsed, sinking into the fleshy ground.
When she opened her eyes, she was in the clinic's waiting area.
She lay on a sofa, fluorescent light stabbing her eyes. The teeth on her tongue were gone, her ankle unmarred. She sat up, glancing at the mirror. Her eyes were normal, her mouth unscarred. But in her coat pocket was a chart, bearing Sato's signature and the words "Treatment Ongoing."
Her hands shook. The waiting room door opened, and Sato stepped in, smiling, a dental drill in hand.
"Ready, Aoi?"
His voice was calm, but his eyes gleamed with madness.
Aoi backed away, reaching for the counter. A dental pick lay there. She gripped it, glaring at Sato. The clinic walls began to pulse faintly.
Shadows of teeth slithered from the tile seams.
Her tongue ached, a faint throb.
Pick in hand, Aoi took a step toward Sato.