The Tooth Collector (and Other Tales of Terror)

The Tooth Collector and Other Tales of
Terror

By: Lindsey Goddard

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 Lindsey Goddard

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reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork
herein is prohibited. Thank you for respecting the hard work of
this author.

This book is a work of fiction. Any
resemblance to real life people or events is strictly
coincidence.

ISBN: 9781311746948

Table Of Contents

The Tooth
Collector

Blood
On The Highway

Invitation
Only

The
Patch

The Woman In The Niqab

The Blue
Girl

What
Happens In Vegas

All The
Rage

Damaged
Goods

The
Gift

About The
Author

The
Tooth Collector

“What's his motive?” Jenny blew a bubble with
her purple chewing gum, popped it between her pink painted lips and
started chewing it again. She pushed a lock of curly blonde hair
out of her eyes and pressed the crosswalk button, waiting.

“What do you mean by 'motive'?” Cynthia
asked.

“I mean... investing in this idea of yours is
a financial risk. What does he stand to gain?”

Cynthia took a deep breath. It tasted of
exhaust fumes, but she didn't mind. It was a breezy day in April,
and the afternoon was alive with the thrum of taxi cab engines and
bustling pedestrians. It comforted Cynthia, strolling through the
busy city, being in the middle of it all.

“He's going to double his earnings. That's
what he stands to gain.” Cynthia's blue eyes lit up as she spoke,
reflecting her emotions like two cerulean mood rings. “Combining
our businesses is a win/ win situation. He sells movies; I sell
CDs. The Internet is destroying our sales. It's the perfect time to
work together, to buy that empty office between our stores, knock
down the walls and triple our floor space. We can redesign the
layout, get some flashy advertisements, and hopefully attract some
new customers.” Cynthia watched the traffic light change. A new
direction of cars rolled through the intersection. The corner of
her mouth curled into a half-smile as she fantasized about her
plans.

“Mommy!” A shrill voice penetrated her
daydream. Kya tugged at her arm. “Mommy, look!” The girl flashed a
proud, gap-toothed grin. Blood dotted her lips. Bubbly red saliva
coated her teeth, pooling inside a fresh hole in her bottom gum.
“It fell out!”

Cynthia crinkled her nose, eyeing the bloody
tooth her daughter clutched in spit-covered fingers. She sighed.
Kya was losing teeth faster than a tree shedding leaves in Autumn.
It was a wonder that her gums weren't entirely barren. And Cynthia
hated handling the teeth—odd little pieces of human anatomy,
porcelain smooth on one side, rough and blood-stained on the other.
But a visit from the tooth fairy meant the world to Kya, so she was
forced to play along.

The traffic light flashed “WALK” in bold
white font. “We can go,” Jenny said, ushering for Cynthia and Kya
to come along.

Cynthia knelt down and smoothed the stray
hairs that had fallen from her daughter's redheaded ponytail.
“Honey, put the tooth in your pocket until we get home, okay?” The
girl nodded, licking a drop of blood from her lip. Cynthia grabbed
her hand, and together they crossed the street.

The April breeze blew a napkin from the
table. It went dancing down the sidewalk into oblivion. Cynthia
loved sitting on the restaurant patio, watching the city move
around her. The sun warmed her skin as she sipped her water. It had
been a little too windy for dining, but they had managed.

Her salad was down to the last few leafy
green bites when she heard Kya crying. “Oh no! Mommy! I lost
it!”

She wiped her lips with a napkin, motioning
for Kya to come closer. A half-eaten chicken tender platter sat on
the table beside her salad. Kya had gobbled it down and excused
herself from the table to play games on the sidewalk, like she did
every time they ate lunch outdoors. But now the six-year-old was
upset, visibly shaken and heading back towards the table in
tears.

“Mommy! It's my tooth! I lost it!”

Cynthia smiled. “Yes, I know, sweetie. You
put it in your pocket, remember?”

“No, it's not there!” Kya pulled her pockets
inside out to expose the cotton lining. “See?” Her lip quivered as
she glanced toward the crosswalk. “I think I dropped it.”

Kya's orange pony tail bounced as she turned
toward the street. Cynthia reached out a hand, but Kya swatted it
away, taking a step toward the intersection. Cynthia grabbed hold
of her just before she stepped out of reach. She spun her around to
meet her eyes. Snot formed in the little girl's nose as she
whimpered. “I've got to find my tooth!”

“It's okay, honey. We'll leave the tooth
fairy a note.”

Kya's eyes narrowed into thin slits. Her
eyebrows came together, a deep wrinkle in the middle. She bit down
on her bottom lip and stood motionless, staring up at her mother
with a confused expression. “What would the tooth fairy want with a
note?”

Cynthia offered Kya a tissue from her purse.
She took it and wiped her nose. “A note... to explain what
happened. A nice letter that says 'Dear tooth fairy, I have
misplaced my tooth, but I drew you a picture to thank you for
everything you do. Love, Kya.' I'm sure she'll understand, and
she'll like the picture so much that she'll leave you something
special under your pillow.”

Cynthia chewed her lip, hoping that Kya would
accept this solution. She was a strong-willed child, very emotional
at times, but a good kid at heart. Kya was an only child, with
fiery red hair and intelligent, fierce green eyes that were a
mystery to Cynthia. Brown hair and blue eyes were dominant in
Cynthia's family. And Kya's father had been blonde with brown eyes.
But the red hair must come from his side of the family. She would
never know for sure, of course. The coward didn't stick around long
enough to discuss the genetics of their child; he simply
disappeared when he heard the word “pregnant”.

Oh well. Cynthia fell in love with those
emerald eyes the moment she held Kya for the first time. She loved
being a mother, single or not.

She pulled the frowning child to her chest
and hugged her, patting the small of her back. “It's okay. The
tooth fairy will come.” She gripped Kya's shoulders, gently
squeezing as she looked her in the eyes and smiled. “Now go play.
We'll head home in a bit.”

Kya hung her head. “Okay,” she muttered. She
knelt down to scoop up the Barbie she'd left lying on the sidewalk.
Ken was sprawled at her feet, too, but she didn't take notice.
Instead she watched the cars in the street, eyes fixed on the
crosswalk. Dirty tires rolled over the white painted lines. A gum
wrapper skittered across the asphalt. For a moment, not a single
car passed, and Kya squinted, scanning the ground for her
tooth.

“Now back to this motive thing.” Jenny smiled
as she pushed her bowl of pasta to the side. “Like I said,
everybody's got a motive. I'm just wondering why this guy is
willing to risk such an investment with a partner he barely
knows.”

“What are you getting at?” Cynthia narrowed a
suspicious eye at her friend, waiting for the catch.

“Well, look at you!” Jenny gestured toward
Cynthia with a wave of her hand. “You're gorgeous. You're smart.
You're single. I wouldn't be surprised if this guy is after
you.”

Cynthia laughed, a little too high pitched.
She didn't like where this conversation was going. She hadn't dated
since Kya's father flew the coop. A relationship wasn't worth the
pain it might cause if things ended badly, especially now that
Kya's feelings were involved. Cynthia was still wounded. The
emotional scars from being left to raise a child alone had never
fully healed. “Abandonment issues” was putting it lightly, she
knew.

Jenny leaned in. “Do you think he's cute?
Because I think he's cute. That's why I figured you two might, you
know, hook up...”

Cynthia sighed. “My interest in him is
strictly business.” She sat up, prepared to argue her defense, but
the sound of squealing tires caught her attention before she could
continue.

A silver Suburban skidded toward a BMW that
had spun out of control and landed sideways in the road, blocking
the intersection. The driver of the BMW had slammed the brakes and
jerked the wheel, sending the sports car across the oncoming lane.
One of its wheels was bent, and the tire hissed air as it
deflated.

The Suburban plowed forward. The smell of
burnt rubber hung in the air as the SUV slammed into the sports car
with a loud crunch, leaving black skid marks in the lane. Shards of
glass rained down on both vehicles. Some of it bounced off the
wreckage and settled in the street as frantic onlookers rushed
toward the accident. One of them screamed, “The child, the
child!”

Cynthia's heart sank. She searched the
sidewalk for Kya. No sign of her. She sprang from her chair,
screaming “Kya! Where are you?”

She ran from the restaurant patio. One of her
high-heeled sandals caught a crack in the pavement, and she
stumbled, pushing her way through a crowd of onlookers gathered at
the curb. One of them shot her a dirty glance, but the cold
expression softened as Cynthia ran toward the scene of the
accident.

Cynthia wailed, “No! God no!” A purple sleeve
poked out from underneath the smashed BMW. And the tiniest bit of
orange ponytail. Blood began to pool around the mangled form of a
little girl, barely visible through the twisted metal in the
road.

Traffic came to a stop. Ignorant motorists
further back began to honk their horns. Shocked citizens helped a
limping man from the SUV as Cynthia ran to where Kya was sprawled,
pinned down by the wreckage. Blood leaked over the white painted
crosswalk, mixing with splinters of broken glass.

She fell to her knees and reached for the
tiny hand with pink painted fingernails. She called her name over
and over. But the girl didn't respond. She lay in a twisted heap.
Crimson splatters stained her clothes and streaked her little face.
One of the BMW's tires had flattened a portion of her thigh. Her
chest was crushed against the pavement.

Cynthia closed her eyes against the horror,
but the smell of smoke rising from the engine and the sirens
blaring in the distance assured her this was real. The sirens drew
closer, and Cynthia opened her eyes. She stared in disbelief at her
daughter's body beneath the car as hot tears welled in her
eyes.

Then someone was there, kneeling beside her.
Long, brittle strands of hair hung from the hood that covered its
head. The tangled locks were mostly black, speckled with strands of
gray and white. A breeze blew around the dark stranger, whipping
its hair and ruffling the gray cloak. Cynthia saw a portion of its
face through the obsidian shadows of the hood—two glittering red
eyes, its gaunt cheekbones set too high above a crone-like nose.
The gaping, toothless mouth grinned at her, wickedly.

She scrambled backwards, looking around, but
no one else seemed to notice the strange figure in the billowing
robe, kneeling before the wreckage beside Cynthia. It crouched over
the upturned hand of Cynthia's dead child and ran a pale, bony
finger down Kya's gore-splattered wrist. The spindly fingers roamed
to the center of her hand and plucked a pearly, white tooth from
the palm.