CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I’m a Dentist. I Know What’s Inside Your Teeth, And It’s Not Decay" Creepypasta

Episode Date: July 24, 2025

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by goose.jpg:   / cheap-dental-i-134727759  Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"-    • "I wasn't careful enough on the deep web" ...  ►"Personal Favourites"-    • "I sold my soul for a used dishwasher, and...  ►"Written by me"-    • "I've been Blind my Whole Life" Creepypasta  ►"Long Stories"-    • Long Stories  FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter:   / creeps_mcpasta  ►Instagram:   / creepsmcpasta  ►Twitch:   / creepsmcpasta  ►Facebook:   / creepsmcpasta  CREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only

Dentists are the worst patients. We all know the signs, but we also know all the excuses. It started a week ago with a deep ache in my jaw. At first, it was sharp and persistent. Then it settled into a low, pulsing pressure that spread up to the side of my face. For the past few days, I'd catch myself grinding against it without knowing, biting down just to meet the resistance. It got bad enough that I had to take an x-ray between appointments. I thought maybe I'd miss something obvious, like a cracked cusp, an inflamed ligament.

But everything came up clean. I told myself it would ease up in a day or two. Most things do. I work at a small dental practice, which consists of three rooms in a waiting area, no larger than a living room. The building had once been a bank, long before my room. my time, and the old vault door still sat bolted to the rear hallway wall, a relic we couldn't afford to remove.

We used the bolt as a supply room now. Stock came in through the side entrance and got stored behind that heavy door where the safety deposit boxes used to be. I'd taken over the practice from my mentor nearly 20 years ago, back when the carpets were new, and the NHS still sent inspectors. Since then, I've had budget slag. suppliers cutting corners, fewer staff and fewer patients who could afford regular care. But I kept going.

The girl in the chair today couldn't have been more than eight. She was nervous, fidgety, her small hands tugging at the cuff of a school jumper as we went through the usual questions like, how many times the day do you brush and manual or electric? All of which her mother answered. She chipped one of the molars chewing on a hard sweet, and a small cavity had opened up beneath the crack, just deep enough to need filling before it turned into something worse. She looked terrified. It's just a small filling, that's all. I reassured her, keeping my voice low and easy, the tone I'd perfected over years to calm my patience.

Nothing you'll even notice after a day. She gave me a look like she wasn't so sure. I had one just last week myself, I added, opening my mouth so she could get a good view and pointing towards a tooth with a gloved finger. Didn't hurt at all, barely felt it really. A lie, technically. The ache had been waking me up some nights now. A deep, throbbing thing, under the back of my molar they'd patched with one of the new composite kits.

That's what I get for letting a student dental nurse practice on me. But I assured this girl that she had nothing to worry about. I had perfected this. She seemed to relax a little at that, enough to lean back without gripping the chairarms so tightly. Kelly stood to my left, ready with a suction, watching the girl more than the tools. She'd been assisting in this practice longer than I'd been running it. She had a good instinct for nerves, knew when to speak and when not to. I gave her a small nod of approval and adjusted the light.

As I worked, a slow, pulsing pressure pressed in my jaw, which seemed to keep in time with the drill. I ignored it. When the girl and her mother left, I cleaned down the room and logged the notes into the system. Another job done. Outside, the afternoon had sun. started to slide into gray, the sky thick with the kind of clouds that promised rain by evening.

I was halfway through preparing for my next patient when the receptionist buzzed through. Mr Collins is here early, says is in quite a bit of discomfort. I checked the screen. Collins had only been in two weeks ago. A standard cavity, nothing remarkable. Composite filling, same batch as the others. Just as I was about to call him, I caught a notification at the bottom of my screen. It was another email from my daughter, Claire. I didn't have time to open it now. She was still abroad, enjoying her 20s, moving from place to place.

She mentioned before that she didn't trust the dentists out there. Just a few weeks ago, I sent her some spare composite kits, adhesives and a new pack of etchenbond. They wear extras from the new supplier. They'd sent more than I ordered, probably hoping to keep me on as a regular customer. I sighed and roped at my jaw. Then I called Collins through. He shuffled into the chair with a stiff weariness.

He was in his mid-forties. Over the ten years he'd been coming here, I'd learned that he was a factory worker, and the kind of man who didn't come from, plain unless something was really wrong. It's been aching like hell, he said. Keeps me up some nights. Feels like it's moving, if that makes sense.

I nodded, already pulling up the x-ray from last time. Any swelling, fever? No fever, a bit tender, hurts more at night. It has a dull sort of pressure. I lined him up for a fresh x-ray, tilting the the sensor to catch the apex properly. My jaw throbbed as I worked, as if it were keeping pace with the harm of the machine. I tried not to rub at it while he watched.

When the image loaded, I pulled up the last one beside it for comparison. I'd taken it barely a fortnight ago. I was expecting a slight shift, perhaps a faint halo of the apex, something I could attribute to early pulpitous or a missed microphys. fracture, something familiar. Instead, the interior of the tooth looked dramatically worse. There were voids and areas beneath the enamel that had been solid a week ago, now hollowed. The density wasn't right, and on closer inspection there was a neat round hole.

I leaned in closer to the monitor. I've been staring at dental films for 30 years, and I never seen voids like that. Clean, deliberate looking, almost surgical, except no drill had done this. Still, I kept my tone calm when I turned back to Collins, no point worrying him unnecessarily. All right, let's have a closer look. Sit back for me. He settled into the chair again, slower this. time, rubbing his jaw the wince as he went. I called through for one of the dental nurses to come in and assist,

and told her I'd be removing the filling to take a closer look. Kelly came in. Composites failing already? She asked, pulling on gloves. Maybe, I need a proper look, I said. She didn't ask to see the x-ray and set up the tray. Despite her lack of questions, We both knew patients didn't usually end up back in the chair this soon unless something had gone wrong.

Collins lay back and waited. I adjusted the light, checked the anesthetic had taken hold, and gave it another minute just to be sure. No need to rush. The drill felt heavier than usual in my hand. I worked carefully, easing through the composite in slow, deliberate passes. Kelly held the suction ready without a word. Something about the way the filling lifted didn't sit right. The material crumbled away too easily, coming loose in brittle flakes instead of the solid

predictable chunks I'd placed. Beneath it, the tooth wasn't solid. The structure had given up on holding shape. Kelly noticed it too. I didn't need to look to know she was. watching. When I glanced up, she met my eye with a silent, questioning look. I gave a small nod. Carry on. I irrigated the cavity, cleared what debris I could, suction catching the fragments as they floated free. The deeper I went, the more of it seemed to fall apart under the burr.

It shouldn't have looked like that. Not this soon. Not from a sin. simple filling. Kelly handed me the ender probe without asking. I tapped gently at the exposed dentin, probing for stability. The tip sank deeper than it should of, catching an avoid beneath the surface. I paused, leaning in closer, adjusting the light for a better view. The walls of the tooth flexed under pressure and gave way too easily. Beneath it all, beneath what should have in a solid structure. With space, I felt Kelly nervously watching me work. I rinsed again, dried the area, and leaned in with a mirror.

The void seemed to taper off somewhere deeper than I could reach, a narrow track disappearing beneath what remained of the root structure. It wasn't a crack, it wasn't decay. It looked, for lack of a better word. Eaton. Technically, it was still repairable. The nerve looked untouched, and there was just enough structure left to rebuild on. Nothing a decent lining and fresh composite couldn't shore up for now.

Let's get the filling kit, I said, sitting back. Kelly peeled off her gloves and went to the supply cupboard. I heard the box tear as she opened it. They make these things thinner every year, she said, frowning at the mess. You so much just look at the strip wrong and it bursts. The packaging was flimsy because the supplier was cheap. I'd started ordering from abroad when the budget shrank further. It was from somewhere Eastern European and half the instructions were printed in a language I couldn't read.

We've been running lean for years. you cut corners where you had to. I worked quickly, but carefully, lining the cavity and rebuilding what I could. It wasn't perfect, but it would hold for now. Colin sat up slowly once I was done, stretching his numb jaw. Give that a day or two to settle, I told him. If it gives you any more trouble, you know where to find me. He nodded.

Thanks, Doc. We'll keep an eye on it. Don't hesitate to reach out. Kelly stripped off her gloves and started clearing the tree. She waited until Collins had gone before she spoke up, hovering by the sink with a forehead brow. What was that? she asked, quieter now. I've never seen a tooth come apart like that. Neither have I, I said.

She rinsed the instrument. slower than usual, like she was waiting for me to come up with an answer. It looked, I don't know, like it had rotted from the inside out. She set the scalar down a little harder than necessary. Not decay, though, was it? No, I said, not decay. She gave a short shake of her head, almost to herself. Weird one

Kelly wasn't one to push but I could feel her watching as I roll my chair back to the computer waiting for me to tell her it was nothing or that I'd seen worse or that I knew exactly what had caused it when she realized I didn't have an answer she left to go on a break

with a bit of downtime before my next patient I opened up my inbox Claire's emails were still sitting there Flagged in bold. I clicked open the first one. Hey Dad, I got around to using the stuff you sent. Figured you'd find this funny. I propped up a standing mirror on the kitchen table,

wedged the torch between two cookbooks, and angled everything just right so I could see what I was doing. Looked ridiculous, crouched over my own reflection with a filling kit in one hand and a dental probe in the other. I should have taken a picture. You'd either have died laughing or disliked. sewn me on the spot, probably both.

It's not perfect, but it's holding. I'm pretty proud of it, if I'm honest. Thought you'd be proud too, considering how I used to cry any time I lost the milk tooth. When I finally make it back home, you'd better have a job waiting for me. Love, Claire.

I leaned back in the chair and let myself smile just for a moment. Then, I clicked open the next email she'd sent earlier. It wasn't like her, sending tooth so close together. Hey Dad, hope you're all right. You've been in my mind lately. I'm starting to think I didn't do the filling properly, after all.

My jaw's been aching for a few days now. Worse than I thought it would be. It's gotten to the point I can't really chew on that side anymore. It feels like the whole tooth's about to fall apart if I press on it too much. I'm pretty sure that wasn't in the instant. Not that I could have read them anyway. It's not just uncomfortable anymore. It's painful.

It keeps me up at night sometimes. I know I should get it looked at, but you know me, too stubborn. And if I'm honest, I don't really trust anyone over here to get it right. It makes me nervous just thinking about it. Do you think this is normal? Is this what happens if you mess it up? Or is it something worse? Let me know when you can.

Love, Claire. It was in that moment that I became aware of how hard my jaw was throbbing beneath a molar. I pressed my tongue against it without thinking, and I felt it shift. It frightened me to the point where I froze, and I sat very still for a long time. Let the pulse drag out slow and thick through my jaw. Then, energy surged through me, and my fingers moved before I thought about what they were doing. I pulled up records, checking dates, dragging appointments onto the screen one by one. Collins, the girl, me.

And then Mrs. Graham, the first to receive one of the new fillings. All of us were patched from the same shipment of cheaper supplies. The knot in my stomach tightened as I scrolled through the impover. voices, the dates lining up too neatly. Every name, every filling, every order. It sat there in black and white, plain as anything. Every one of them. My jaw throbbed harder, like something was still working its way through bone, patient, slow, chewing its way out. I thought of Mrs. Graham and picked up the phone, pulling other details from the system. I dialed a number and waited for the tone to connect. Hello, Mrs. Graham. It's David from the surgery. Just a quick call about your recent filling.

Nothing to worry about, but we've started running a new patient care initiative that involves follow-up routines for anyone who's had recent work, just making sure everything's settling properly. Oh, she said, sounds. a little apprehensive. No charge, of course. We're just trying to catch any small issues early before they turn into anything bigger. That's thoughtful of you.

I was actually going to ring. It's been feeling a bit odd since I left. I'd like to have another luck, if that's all right. Could you come in later today? We've got a slot open this afternoon. Yes, that's fine. Better to get it checked, isn't it? "'Exactly. We'll see you then.'

Mrs. Graham arrived late to that afternoon, right on time. We exchanged the usual small talk while I settled her into the chair, nothing out of the ordinary on the surface. "'Doesn't quite feel right, that one,' she said as I adjusted the light. "'And that's what we're here to check,' I said, "'giving her the practised, reassuring smile.' I called Kelly in from sterilization. She slipped on gloves without question and took up a place at my side.

Composite failing again, she asked under a breath. No, just a follow-up, I said. I numbed the area, waited until I was certain Mrs. Graham couldn't feel her thing. Then I worked carefully, easing through the surface of the filling. It crumbled under the burrow and. in soft, unexpected flakes. Beneath it, the dentin looked pale, almost porous, hollow in places.

Kelly shifted beside me, leaning in to watch. Looks the same as Collins, she said, keeping a voice level. I irrigated the cavity as she suction clear the debris. As I leaned closer with a mirror, something small and pale. It was moving, Kelly, I said quietly, passed me the explorer. She did, without comment, though I felt a breath hitch as she saw it too. I nudged the lava free. It was tiny, embedded right where the pulp should have been.

Kelly's wider eyes flicked between me and the thing writhing faintly on the tip of my tool. She kept her composure, barely. Mrs. Graham still had her eyes closed, blissfully unaware. Get the container, I said, steady as I could manage. Now. I've never seen anything like that, she whispered as she passed it over. Neither of I, I said, placing the lava inside with careful precision, snapping the lid shut before I could shift again.

We both sat there for a moment longer than necessary, watching it curl and flex against the plastic. Kelly's gloves creaked faintly as she tightened the grip on the edge of the tray, as if bracing herself against the reality of what we just found. My tongue pressed instinctively against my own molar. I felt it again, that faint shift beneath the enamel, the realization settled hard in my chest. Collins, the little girl, Mrs. Graham, Claire, me. I swallowed hard, tasting the metallic tang of fear crawling up from the back of my throat. Kelly remained speechless, ignorant to the real reason the lava was there.

I need you to head over to Marston's, I said quietly, leaning in close enough that Mrs. Graham wouldn't overhear. See if they'll sell you a filling pack. Say it's for a rush case. Do whatever you have to. Kelly blinked at me, confused. We've got more in the vault, plenty. I don't want what's in the vault, I said. Just trust me on this. Go, beg if needed.

Mrs. Graham shifted slightly in the chair, but kept her eyes closed, still numb, still unaware. Kelly hesitated, then gave a single nod, stripping off her gloves as she left. She returned five minutes later with a fresh kit in hand, looking relieved and a little flushed. They didn't ask questions, just happy to take the money, she said. Didn't even check what I needed it for. Good, I said, let's get a patched up.

We worked quickly and cleanly with the new materials. The tooth was lined, filled and polished to a shine. Mrs. Graham sat up, feeling better. better than she had when she walked in, and thanked us both politely. Feels loads better already, she said. It was worth coming back in. I smiled and sent her on her way. When the door shut behind her, Kelly turned back to me. All right, she said, what the hell is going on? I opened my mouth to answer, but I struggle to find where to start.

It was in that moment that I felt a snap in my mouth. It was sharp and sudden, like a tooth was splintering. Kelly's expression shifted from confusion to horror as I lurched forward over the tray. My hand clamped to my jaw like I could hold it in place, stop it somehow. Open your mouth, Kelly demanded. I obeyed, prying my jaw apart through the pain. Kelly angled the light, leaned in closer, and then recoiled momentarily. A breath hitched sharply, gloves trembling as she adjusted the mirror.

Oh my God, she said, not calm anymore. It's moving. I can see it. It's chewed through. It's bigger. I led out a horrified groan, jaw straining open while her hands were still in there. I couldn't speak. All I could do was make that awful sound as the pain sharpened.

Hold still, she snapped. I felt the gnawing scrape inside the tooth, the way the enamel fractured inward as something forced its way out. The pain bloomed, hot and raw beneath the gum. Before I could brace for it, I felt it push, and a crack as it forced its way out through the enamel. Pain blared sharply and deep through my jaw, worse than any abscess I'd ever treated.

Kelly grabbed the explorer and, without waiting for me to flinch, hooked it in and pulled. I felt the pressure ease in a rush of warmth and blood. Something white, wet, and writhing, slipped free into the tray with a soft, awful sound. We both stared at it. It was another larva, bigger this time, slick with blood and pulp.

Kelly looked at me, wide-eyed, her face blanching beneath the harsh surgery light. Jeez. Oh God, she said, breath catching sharply. What the hell have we been putting into people's mouths? I couldn't answer. I turned away. half stumbling to the sink and threw up. When I finally came back for air,

Kelly was still staring at the tray, pale and silent. I wiped to my mouth, my hand shaking, and crossed back to the computer. I pulled up the website where I'd placed the order. Refresh, refresh again. Nothing. Error screen, page not found. I checked the invoice and grab the box from the bin.

A phone number was printed in small, pale type beneath the logo. I dialed it. The line rang once, twice, then a dull, automated voice cut through. The number you have dialed has not been recognised. Please check and try again. I tried twice more. Same message, same dead tone. I sat back, staring at the box, the screen, the number.

as if something would change if I looked long enough. There was no trail left to follow. How did they even get listed? How did they pass themselves off as legitimate? The package had looked cheap, yes, but not dangerous. There had been no warnings, no red flags, no reason to question it beyond the usual distrust that came with buying cheap. They sent extras, they'd been polite, efficient.

And now, nothing. Half the world away, using the same kit I'd sent, Claire's jaw hurt, with one of those things inside of her teeth, eating away at the enamel from the inside out. I pressed my fingers hard against my temples and felt the pulse through my jaw. And in that moment, I felt utterly held. hopeless.