The Tooth Collector (and Other Tales of Terror) Read Online Free Page B

“For
every joy there is a sorrow. Sacrifices must be made. That's what
you tell me in my dreams.”
     
    The dark figure said nothing. It was
motionless aside from the swirling aura of misery that surrounded
it, filling Cynthia's heart with dread.
     
    “You bring me the joy of returning Kya to the
world,” she touched her stomach and realized she was not pregnant
in the dream. She didn't like the feeling of her empty abdomen and
frowned, but continued. “So what is the sacrifice?” Her voice began
to shake, eyes wet. “Am I going to die?” It was frightening to put
what had been plaguing her into words. The pregnancy had been so
rough. She was always ill. And now she was losing so much
blood...
     
    The cloaked figure reached behind its back
and produced a large scythe that materialized out of the shadows
that swirled around its presence. The dark power that pulsated like
a force field of wickedness around the stranger seemed to spread
through the atmosphere like toxic gas. The toothless, red-eyed face
leaned forward. Its ghoulish nose poked from the shadows. “For
every joy there is a sorrow. For every good deed, a dark one. And
for every soul I resurrect, one must be taken.” The blade of the
scythe caught the firelight.
     
    “Must it be mine?” She was desperate now,
pleading. “Every night you show me the sins of your mortal life.
You paint a picture of the monster you once were. But that's not
who you are... not any more. Your soul wants to rest.”
     
    The creature's robes whipped around as the
wind picked up speed. Its eyes glowed even brighter. Misery poured
from its heart, filling the room.
     
    “My friend Jenny says no good deed is done
without a motive. I think she's right. You have a motive in
resurrecting a child. A brand new set of baby teeth will await you.
But there's no motive in sparing me. I have nothing to offer
you.”
     
    The floorboards shook beneath her knees as
its thunderous voice filled her mind. “There must be a death! A
sacrifice from the child's own bloodline!” He raised the scythe
high over her head with both arms.
     
    “Wait!” she screamed. “You cannot take a
tooth unless it's offered to you, is that right?” The cloaked
figure hovered there, perfectly still, with the blade held over her
head, its pointed tip angled toward the center of her skull. “What
good will it do you, then... to bring her back, if you're not
guaranteed a single tooth from her head?” Sweat dripped down her
face. Her blue eyes shined with a devious thought. “I can promise
you every last tooth in her mouth. I will offer them to you,
willingly. Just hear me out. This sacrifice you require must be of
Cynthia's bloodline?”
     
    The tooth collector said nothing. Its hands
shook in the air, rattling the scythe. The air around it spiraled
into chaos.
     
    “Her father deserves to die at the tip of
that blade. Not me. Not the one who loves her.” The dark soul
continued floating with the blade aimed at Cynthia.
     
    After a moment, it lowered the weapon. The
cyclone of energy that swirled around it faded to an ominous wind.
It leaned forward, out of the hood, and Cynthia could see its pale,
withered lips and long, cadaverous nose. The skin was alabaster
white and clung to the bone so tightly that its face looked
skeletal.
     
    “We must summon him to this world. Think of
him,” the soul growled.
     
    Cynthia did. She thought of all the good
times they had together, of how she hated him for leaving without
so much as a goodbye. She thought of all the birthdays he had
missed. She hated him for walking out of her life, but most of all
for abandoning Kya.
     
    The atmosphere began to pulsate around her. A
dark force pushed outward from Cynthia's broken heart, spreading to
the far corners of the room. The air was alive with energy. It
danced in waves, gathering speed until a cyclone formed before the
fireplace, spinning out of control. The center of the tiny tornado
grew darker, larger, and