Susie began to pull her teeth out as
soon as they grew in. One by one, her pearly whites would emerge from her gums
and one by one, she would yank them out. No one ever saw her do it, but if they
had, they would have grimaced reflexively. Susie pulled out her teeth in the
most gruesome ways imaginable.
The first time, she simply
yanked it out with her pudgy little fingers. It hadn’t required strength so
much as brute force. After the second one, this method grew dull, so Susie
found a pair of her father’s pliers and tugged and tugged until the third came
out. When she released it from the pliers, it turned to dust in her hands,
crushed by the force. She smiled her toothless smile as the dust scattered in
the wind.
Her favorite method of removal
became the tug on the door. She heard a mother suggest it to her young son, a
son older than Susie whose teeth were ready to come out. The boy wailed at the
prospect. Surely his mother must be joking? Susie did not think the mother was
joking. She thought the mother was a genius. So when tooth number nine came in,
Susie waited as long as she could for that little sucker to grow. Then, she
tied one end of a string to the pebble of a tooth and skipped to the door
handle to tie on the other end. Stepping away from the door, she slammed it as
hard as she could with a broom to make sure the distance was just right. She
could not stop smiling at all the blood and gore.
Susie’s parents, after a bit
of time, grew concerned about the absence of their daughter’s teeth. Surely she
should have grown some by now? They took her to a pediatric dentist, a
specialist they never knew existed and asked what was wrong while clasping
their sweaty hands to Susie’s dry ones. He took an x-ray and could not fathom
what he saw.
“It looks as if those
teeth did appear because they’re not in her gums anymore,” he said while
scratching his chin. “See the adult teeth in there? And see how some baby
teeth have yet to come up?” Susie’s parents nodded at the news, while
Susie’s eyes widened. She’d get a whole new set of teeth? What a delight!
That night, her mother tried
to comfort her daughter who did not seem distraught enough at the news.
“Your teeth will
come,” she said, not at all convinced. “And when they do, the Tooth
Fairy will come and bring you money!”
Susie had no interest in
money. So, as far as her parents could tell, her teeth never came, and they
brought her back to the pediatric dentist once more.
“That’s odd,” he
said, scanning the fresh set of x-rays. “See how there had been baby teeth
here before? They’re gone now!” He pointed to the old x-ray, then the new,
while the parents sat and puzzled with him. Susie licked her gums, then smiled.
The pediatric dentist glanced over.
“May I have a moment to
speak with Susie alone?”
This made Susie’s parent’s
uncomfortable, yet everything about the situation made them uncomfortable. So,
they left the room. The pediatric dentist sat in his chair and stared down at
Susie while she laid on the patient chair.
“Susie,” he said,
“do you know where your teeth went?”
She smiled her gummy smiled
once more and pulled out a baggie she kept hidden in her pocket at all times.
Inside were seventeen lumpy, bloodied pearls of teeth, one for each she had
pulled (minus the one that had turned to dust). Some were too small to have
fully formed. The pediatric doctor had never seen anything like it in his
thirty years of practice.
“But Susie… why? What
have you done?”
Susie shrugged her shoulders.
“Haven’t you ever wanted
to control your own body?”
The pediatric dentist had
nothing to say to that. He sent Susie home, telling her parents he would think
over her case a little bit more.
That night, the pediatric
dentist stared in the mirror, lips sealed, until finally, he bore his own teeth
to himself. Each one immaculate and cared for, he had never once considered
doing to himself what he had done to others. His teeth were fine, he thought.
Or were they?
He clasped one of his dental
tools in his hand. Meant for a child, it felt small for the first time. Then,
he brought it to one of his teeth and pulled. Blood gushed everywhere as he
examined what had been a perfectly healthy tooth. He smiled.
“Ah!” he cried.
“I understand now, little Susie.”
THE END
Kristen Seikaly is a Michigan native who lives on the outskirts of Philadelphia. Her work has appeared in Thrice Fiction, Story Seed Vault, Lost Balloon, and Flash Fiction Magazine. Her piece “Planetary Disappointment” was longlisted for the Wigleaf Top 50.
I wrote this script for Beyond the Veil awhile back, exploring the bond between two twin sisters, Edith and Edna, who had lived their lives together. There was a terrible car crash and someone didn’t make it. The other is trying to contact them beyond the veil…
Beyond the Veil Setting:
Two women reach out to one another individually in a séance setting.
One sits on one side of a dining table. The other sits at the other side. Each studies a candle just beyond her reach; there is darkness between the two candles. The long table is barely hinted at in the interstice between the two but it is clearly present.
The camera is stationary showing both in profile staring through each other.
The women are both portrayed by the same actress who is also the voice of the narrator, who is unseen. All three voices are identical so that it is impossible to tell which of the two women the narrator is supposed to represent.
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Both women are spliced into the same scene. They are together but apart. The two candles remain for the duration of filming so that the two halves of the film can either be overlapped (so that both women appear incorporeal) or cut and sandwiched in the middle between the candles (so both women appear physically present). It is possible to set the scene thusly using both methods in different parts of the story, with both women seemingly flickering in and out of being, both individually and apart.
Script:
I. Black, audio only.
Narrator:
I was riding with my twin sister.
We were in a terrible car crash.
The car drove over the median and rolled.
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It spun off the road where it caught fire.
There was smoke everywhere.
My sister didn’t make it.
II. Fade in to the long table with two lit candles; flames flickering.
Two women are just sitting at either end.
They stare blankly through each other.
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Call and Response
Edith: Now I’m trying to contact her…
Edna: …beyond the veil.
Simultaneous:
Edith: Edna, do you hear me?
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Edna: Edith, do you hear me?
Together (In Unison):
If you hear me, knock three times.
Narrator:
Knock.
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Knock.
Knock.
Call and Response:
Edith: I miss you terribly.
Edna: I miss you so much.
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Edith: Do you remember…
Edna: … the car crash?
Edith: We rolled…
Edna: … over the median.
Edith: There was fire.
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Edna: There was smoke.
Edith: I could hear the sirens.
Edna: They were coming…
Edith: … to rescue us.
Edna: But they were so far away.
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Edith: So far…
Edna: … away….
Simultaneous:
Edith: Are you okay?
Edna: Are you hurt?
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Together (In Unison):
Knock three times for yes. Knock once for no.
Narrator:
Knock
– pause –
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Knock
– pause –
Together (Syncopated):
What’s it like, on the other side?
– long pause –
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Simultaneous:
Edith: I miss you, Edna.
Edna: I miss you, Edith.
Together (Syncopated):
It’s so lonely here.
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Call and Response:
Edith: There’s no one here.
Edna: I’m all alone.
Edith: Without you…
Edna: …the spark of life…
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Edith: …is gone…
Edna: … so far away.
– pause –
Together (Entirely Out of Sync):
It’s so dark.
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III. Fade out to black
Narrator:
I was riding with my twin sister.
We were in a terrible car crash.
The car drove over the median and rolled.
It spun off the road where it caught fire.
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There was smoke everywhere.
I didn’t make it.
I had planned to actually turn this into the video for which it was written, but quickly discovered that my plans for recording required a space that was too drastically different from my new house (and new large gaming table) and that my vision for filming could not be well-fully executed or realized. So now it exists as a script only.
Yeah yeah, the insects tend to get ALL the attention here on Nightmarish Nature. But honestly, this one takes the beefcake. It’s the New World Screwworm Fly, and it’s as terrifying as the name suggests. And they aren’t limited to the Americas, there is an Old World version as well, as they can be found pretty much anywhere tropical or seasonably suited.
Revolting Little Buggers
The Screwworm Fly is a parasitic fly larvae that burrows into its host to feed, named because it seems to screw deeper and deeper into the flesh over time. This process is called myiasis and do NOT look it up online, you WILL regret it. They blur those images out for very valid reasons, trust me (and not because of pornographic content). And these maggots will continue to burrow en masse, rather than staying put as a botfly larvae would.
Do Not Do an Image Search on Screwworm Myiasis, Like Seriously – You Will NEVER Unsee That
The female Screwworm fly lays her eggs on an open wound or orifice of her chosen host… And not just one egg or a couple of eggs, no – hundreds, even thousands of them. Let’s let that sink in a bit, shall we? Or screw in as it were. Although any warm-blooded animal is a prime target, cattle are a fly favorite, costing millions of head of cattle to this sick and disgusting horror annually. And if beef isn’t on the menu, Fido or even yourself might be.
The Great American Worm Wall
In fact, this particular feature here on Nightmarish Nature is so terrifying that the United States has made agreements with all of Central America, even including countries that do not generally share its interests, in order to create a “Great American Worm Wall” to prevent them from spreading back into the United States. I’m not going to go into all of the creepy and juicy details of this bizarre science fiction freak fact, you’ll just have to watch it here on Half As Interesting’s YouTube channel.
Essentially, the Worm Wall is a complicated byproduct of scientists studying radioactivity on the flies’ maturity as well as the flies’ sexual lives and using this information against them to nearly eradicate the species and banish it from much of its former range. So, Peter Parker, if you thought everyone was messing with your love life before, be glad you weren’t bitten by a radioactive Screwworm.
If you’ve enjoyed this segment of Nightmarish Nature, feel free to check out some previous here:
Like I said before, I’m really getting into the spirit of the season this year. So reconsidering The Mourners yet again, and haunting the faith a bit, I decided to share a poem that I wrote thinking about All Hallows Eve as a preview of more things to come this month of October.
On Becoming Hallowed
Holy. Holy. Holy. Light the candle. Chant the hymn.
For now the veil between the living and the dead grows thin.
Fingers held to lips in silence; lies beneath their skin.
Family found, ancestral ghosts return to haunt their kin.
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Skeletons in closets, grotesque yearnings trapped within.
A bleached and bony face flashes a slightly knowing grin.
It’s not the shadows but the darkness that we fear therein.
Bless this Church whose saintly bodies live and dwell herein.
Unto Death, they claim to sanctify our souls from sin.
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Those familiar faces shame; this fight we cannot win.
Come what may, they betray. Pray/prey and heads will spin.
Forevermore and evermore to nevermore… Amen.
I thought this poem really captured All Hallows Eve, in some of the same sentiments as the movie High Spirits, which I loved almost as much as Beetlejuice back in the day.
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