The Nightmare Soup Sampler!
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(Please note the stories here have been reformatted for the best mobile reading experience.)
The Toothache
“It really hurts, Doc. I’ve had cavities before, but this one is something else.” Gary applied steady pressure to the left side of his mouth with his hand. “Even talking hurts.”
Dr. Stevenson pulled Gary’s medical and dental history from an overstuffed cream folder and flipped through the information. His grey eyebrows were steady and straight, the wrinkled corners of his mouth showing zero signs of emotion. He’d been doing this for such a long time that this was just another run-of-the-mill patient… or so he thought.
“Well, let’s make sure there isn’t an abscess or something in there. You’re probably right, though, just a nasty cavity. Lie back and let’s take a look.”
Gary sat back as the seat automatically reclined. He was a younger guy, early 20s, but he looked a bit older. His mouth was already full of silver and gold fillings because as much as he tried, he just couldn’t put down the soda and junk food.
Dr. Stevenson snapped on his white latex gloves and turned on that annoyingly bright light that hovers just above the patient’s face. Soon, the dental assistants and their rolling chairs wheeled over to Gary’s side, ready to start the exam.
Gary hated this part. They would soon be prodding around his mouth, poking, scraping, and digging with their little metal tools. They would drill his teeth with that gross, crunchy toothpaste, then use that little suction mechanism to slurp up the spit coming out of his mouth. And eventually he would get lectured about how he didn’t floss enough or how he should stop eating junk food.
But first, they had to address this horrific pain. It seemed to originate in one of the back-left molars, and whenever Gary moved his mouth, it sent a wave of pain radiating through his jaw and upper neck, like a pulsating electric shock.
“Okay Gary, let’s see what’s going on. Say ‘Ah.’” Dr. Stevenson leaned in with his little magnifying tool. Immediately he saw a gaping hole inside Gary’s second to last molar. It looked like the tooth had decayed far into the gum line and went deep down to the root.
“Yep, there she is. That’s a big-time cavity… looks like it’s starting to form an abscess as well. That probably explains the radiating pain and swelling; to be honest we might have to pull the tooth.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s a possibility. Let’s get you over to the x-ray machine, and that will give us a better answer.”
Gary got up and trudged over to the x-ray room like he had several times before. It was the same old song and dance: Put the heavy plastic bib on, bite down on those plastic things, and let the x-ray machine do its work.
After about 15 minutes, Dr. Stevenson walked back in with the x-rays. The stoic, emotionless expression on his face had just a hint of curiosity. You could tell because his eyebrows were ever so slightly turned up.
“Okay Gary, hop back into the exam chair for me.”
“What did the x-ray show?”
“Well… I’m not exactly sure. I need to check inside the cavity, so I’m going to numb the area before I start digging around in there.”
“Wonderful…” Gary rolled his eyes sarcastically.
Again, the dental assistants wheeled over, and Gary reclined back and opened his mouth.
“Okay you’re going to feel a slight pinch… here it comes.” Dr. Stevenson injected the surrounding area with numbing agent and then grabbed a small, needle-like tool to insert into the rotting area of the tooth.
“So, when we checked the x-ray, it looked like there was something lodged inside the cavity.”
“Like what?” Gary mumbled.
“That’s what we’re getting ready to find out.”
Dr. Stevenson carefully stuck the instrument into the rotting hole and slowly moved it around.
Almost immediately, Gary felt a strange vibrating sensation. He then looked down to see something that startled him: Dr. Stevenson’s eyes were as wide as could be, his grey eyebrows pointed up to his forehead, and his nose was wrinkled in disgust.
“I think I’m going to be sick!” One of the assistants immediately stood up and ran away.
“What’s wrong?” Gary asked.
“Umm… I’m not sure how to tell you this Gary, but there’s a—"
“Ouch!” Gary screamed. The vibrating inside the tooth suddenly morphed into a sharp pain, cutting right through the numbing agent.
“Ow…ah… ahhhhhh!” Gary began screaming; the pain was like razor blades in his mouth. Something was crawling out of his cavity. He could feel it squirming and writhing as it pulled itself from the rotting hole. Pus and blood started squirting out as Gary felt little legs grasping onto his tongue.
Dr. Stevenson sat back in horror. As Gary continued screaming, a six-inch centipede, soaked in blood, emerged from the cavity where it had been living. It quickly scurried onto Gary’s chin and down the side of his face, it then dropped down to the floor and in the blink of an eye darted into a small crack in the wall.
Gary never ate junk food again after that day.
Author’s note: Centipedes, millipedes, and other creepy crawlies love dark, moist areas, so it’s no surprise they have been found living in human ear canals, nasal passages, and other body cavities. Some even burrow inside your skin and lay eggs, a fact that is sure to make your skin crawl, quite literally.
Skin Soup
“Hey… Excuse me. Miss! I’m talking to you,” said a greasy, heavy set man.
Katie rolled her eyes as she walked past the booth, then she took a breath, forced a smile, and turned around. “Yes, what can I do for you this time?”
“I’m sorry, but this chicken noodle soup is just unacceptable. It’s not hot enough, and it tastes like the cheap stuff you buy at the value market. I thought this was supposed to be home-made?”
“It is, Sir.”
“Well can you have the cook try again? Surely he can do better than whatever this is.”
“Sure thing. We’ll get another bowl out to you as soon as possible.”
“Tell them not to use as much salt. My dog wouldn’t even eat this.”
Katie grabbed the bowl and walked back to the kitchen.
“I hate to do this to you, Johnny, but the guy says he wants another bowl of soup. He says this one is too salty, or not hot enough, it doesn’t taste right… something like that.
“What? This will be the third one!” Johnny threw his arms up in the air, frustrated and tired. He was a skinny, middle-aged man with a quick temper. He was also the owner of the struggling diner. “You and I both know there is nothing wrong with that soup. Everyone loves my soup. I swear, some people make it their mission in life to be jerks.”
“I’ve been serving this guy for over an hour. Can you give it one more try? I really need the tip money… even though I doubt this guy is much of a tipper.”
Katie was a college student who needed every dollar she could make. She was pretty, but always looked a little run-down from being overworked, studying too much, and not getting enough sleep.
“Yeah, I’ll give him one more… Guy thinks he can come in here and insult my food. It’s almost closing time; I’m tired and ready to go home. Here you go Mr. Food Critic…” Johnny poured another bowl of broth and noodles, and then added some different spices and some vegetables. It smelled and looked fantastic.
“And one more ingredient…” Johnny peeled a large sliver of dry, dead skin off his nose and dropped it into the soup.
“You’re not seriously going to serve that, right?”
“I certainly am. I’m the boss, and I’m not making another bowl. The guy deserves it. He’s one of those people who thinks servers and cooks are just slaves that can be ordered around.”
Katie looked at the soup for a good ten seconds trying to decide what to do.
“Fine… just because I’m ready to go home.”
Katie walked out to the front of the diner where the man was waiting. He was the only customer left in the place.
“Finally! Took you long enough.”
Katie bit her lip, fighting back the urge to say something in response.
The man grabbed a spoon with his pudgy fingers, holding it like a caveman, and then slurped up some soup in a disgustingly loud fashion. By the way he was devouring it, Katie could tell he was finally satisfied.
“This is absolutely delicious! Well worth the wait. The herbs and spices, they are delightful.”
Soup was spilling from the bowl onto the table as the man lapped it up like a hungry animal.
Once he was finished, he got up, paid with a ridiculously large tip, and left without saying a word. It was one of the oddest customer experiences Katie ever had.
The next night the man returned. He promptly sat in the same booth and waited for Katie to take his order.
“Not this guy again,” she mumbled to herself. “Hey, good to see you again, what can I get you tonight?”
The man tapped his fingers together in anticipation. “I’ll take the chicken noodle soup again, please tell the chef to make it exactly like he did last night.”.
“Alrighty, we’ll get that out to you here in a bit.”
Katie walked backed to the kitchen and leaned up against the wall. “You’ll never guess who’s back. Chicken noodle soup guy.”
Johnny threw his head back in disgust. “Seriously?”
“He says he wants the chicken noodle soup just like you made it last night.”
“Has he been less of a jerk so far?”
“Yeah, not too bad.”
“Okay we will spare him the skin soup this time,” he said, laughing.
Johnny whipped up a batch of chicken noodle soup, minus the dead skin flakes, and served it up. Katie delivered it to the anxious man. In fact, he was sweating with excitement.
“One bowl of chicken noodle soup, here you go, enjoy.”
The man quickly slurped up a spoonful right as Katie placed it on the table.
“Wait… this is wrong. It’s missing something. This is not exactly as it was last night. I want the exact same recipe.”
“Um… okay, I’ll tell the kitchen.”
Katie placed the uneaten bowl of soup in front of Johnny, unsure of what to say.
“Seriously! He is sending this back again?”
“He says he wants it exactly like it was at the end of the night.”
Frustrated and insulted, Johnny nodded his head slowly. “This guy wants the exact same thing, huh? That’s fine. I’ll give him exactly what he wants.”
Johnny scraped some dead skin from his forehead and sprinkled it into the soup like it was table salt. “There you go, serve it up.”
Katie brought the bowl to the man in the booth. He quickly tasted it, looked at Katie with a large, jagged smile, and drank down the soup in a matter of seconds. “Yes! Delicious! Marvelous!”
He then immediately got up, paid with another extremely large tip, and left without saying a word.
The man came back every night for two weeks, and each time he brought along a friend who was just as odd and equally as rude. Soon the diner was packed every evening with these strange customers, all demanding the “special” chicken noodle soup.
Something was seriously off about these people, but business was better than ever, so Johnny gave them exactly what they wanted. Katie knew it was wrong, but the tips were so incredibly good that she just ignored her conscience.
Then one night, Katie walked back into the kitchen and noticed Johnny rubbing some lotion on himself. His arms, face, and neck were raw from peeling off skin. He was using himself like a human cheese grater.
“Johnny, this is insane. Look at what you’re doing to yourself.”
Johnny hung his head for a moment. “I know… this is crazy. But the business was so good… I … I just couldn’t stop.”
Katie walked towards the door. “I’m going to tell them the soup is no longer available. They can order something else or leave.”
Katie walked out into the crowded diner where all of the strange characters were anxiously waiting.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you all, but we will no longer be serving the chicken noodle soup. I’m very sorry. We’re… umm… out of the special ingredients.”
The customers started yelling and screaming. The original chicken soup man stood up, his eyes fiery and intense. “You don’t understand, we need our soup. We need it now!”
The other customers continued to scream and yell. Johnny could hear everything from the kitchen. His temper started to rise, and a couple seconds later he completely lost it.
He burst through the door and yelled at the top of his lungs. “It was SKIN! My skin! The secret ingredient you loved so much was my gross, dead skin sprinkled into your soup. How do you like that, huh? You come in here every night, rude and demanding, treating my waitress horribly. Yeah, you tip her well, so what! That doesn’t mean you can be complete jerks. No more soup… no more SKIN soup. You can all leave now. Goodbye!”
But all the customers just sat there silently. The chicken soup man stood up again, his stare was cold and unnatural. “Wait… It was your skin that tasted so good? So delectable?”
Johnny looked around in confusion. “Uh, yeah, I guess so. You can all leave now. Sue me, do whatever you like. I’m done with the restaurant business. Please leave.”
The man took a step forward and started to drool. “It made the soup so savory, like a rare spice. It was delicious, magnificent, a wonderous journey for the taste buds… I must have more, and look everyone… look at all that delicious skin he still has.”
Johnny took a step back. “You’re creeping me out, man. I know what I did was horrible, but the restaurant is closed. There is the door.”
The chicken soup man took another step forward as all the other customers silently stood up. Each one of them salivating and biting their lips.
“But we can’t leave. Oh no. We’re still hungry, and there is so much of that succulent, tasty skin to go around, enough for all of us.”
Katie realized something horrible was about to happen as the diners lumbered toward Johnny like zombies.
Suddenly the chicken soup man rushed forward with a ravenous, gut-wrenching scream. The other customers sprinted right behind him.
Johnny tried to go for the back door but there were just too many of them. Katie stumbled out of the front entrance, screaming so loudly she almost popped her own eardrums. She fell hard on the concrete of the parking lot and looked back to see the diners devouring Johnny, feasting on his skin like a rare delicacy, and smiling like it was the best meal of their lives.
She sprinted down the road looking for help, the sound of Johnny’s horrific screams fresh in her mind, as well as the stench of hot, savory, chicken noodle soup.
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The Hunting Trophy
Carly hated going to her grandparent’s house, which was extremely odd for a 12-year-old. It wasn’t because she disliked them, or because they treated her badly. She loved them. It was because her grandpa was an avid hunter, and he loved to display his trophies all over the house. Deer, wild boars, birds, badgers, bobcats… If an animal lived in the Midwest, there was a good chance one of its kind was stuffed and displayed at ole Grandpa Pete’s house.
There was one “trophy” that Carly particularly hated; it was the head of a large buck. “The biggest deer you could ever imagine,” according to Grandpa Pete. It was mounted right above the fireplace in the family room, and impossible to miss.
Something about it just made Carly’s skin crawl. It looked angry that its life had been cut short just to become some old man’s wall decoration. And then there was that time about 3 years ago when Carly was sleeping over. She got up in the middle of the night for a glass of water, and as she passed the family room, a chill ran up her spine. Goosebumps exploded all over her body and her stomach twisted into a tight knot, it was the exact feeling you get when you know someone or something is watching you.
She slowly turned her head toward the fire place and looked up… and the deer head moved. At least that’s what she swore up and down to her parents and grandparents, who only laughed.
But Carly was convinced she really did see that… thing… move, and ever since that night, she hated visiting that house. So she wasn’t too happy when her parents told her they were leaving for a weekend trip, and she would be staying with her grandma and grandpa.
“Dad, no! Please! Isn’t there anyone else I can stay with?”
Her dad simply folded his arms in disapproval. “Carly, come on now, you know this fear of yours is a bit ridiculous. Yes, I admit those hunting trophies can be a bit creepy, but you haven’t seen your grandparents in months. You’re 12 years old; you can suck it up for a weekend.”
And just like that it was settled.
…
When Carly and her parents walked through the door, the smell of freshly baked brownies flowed through the air like a delicious haze. It was that type of pleasant aroma that only comes from “grandma’s house.” And something even more amazing: All the stuffed, dead animal trophies were gone, nowhere to be found. In fact, the whole house had been re-done.
“Well hello dear!” Carly’s grandma and grandpa rushed to greet them, and swooped Carly up into a big hug.
“You’ve gotten so big, it seems like forever since I saw you last.”
“It’s only been like 4 months, Grandma.”
“Well that is forever to a grandparent.”
Carly looked around again, wondering if this was too good to be true. “So where are the...uh… animals.”
Grandpa Pete chuckled to himself. “Well, I built a space for all those critters down in the basement, and that’s where they’ll stay from now on. Your Grandma said it was time, and we knew you didn’t like coming here because of it. So down they went.
Carly gave her grandpa another big hug.
“Well come on in to the kitchen and eat up some of these brownies your grandma made.”
Carly was smiling from ear to ear as her grandpa grabbed her bags and they started walking through the house. But that smile was short lived as they walked passed the family room. Grandpa Pete had moved all the animal trophies except one… the deer head above the fireplace, and it looked angrier than ever.
“Hope you don’t mind I kept ole Gus up there. Your grandma said I could keep one up here, and he’s my pride and joy, so he got to keep his spot above the fireplace.”
Carly’s stomach was queasy at the sight of it, but she forced a smile as best she could.
“It’s… uh… it’s okay Grandpa, I don’t mind it as much as I used to.”
But she did mind it, very much so. She just told herself she would do her best not to go into the family room. It was a big house, and there were plenty of other areas to hang out.
Later that night, Carly was reading a book on the front porch when her grandma called her in. “Carly, come look at this.”
“Be right there, Grandma.”
She found her grandparents sitting in the family room looking at an old photo album. Carly slowly approached, her eyes locked on the deer head above the fireplace.
“Look at your mom back when she was in college. You’re going to be the spitting image of her. I can already see it.”
Carly took her gaze off the deer head and looked down. She really did look like her mom, but that realization was soon replaced by another one. In the photo, her mom was standing in the living room, and right behind her was the deer head. Carly moved closer to get a better look… its face, its eyes, its mouth… they were different.
The hair on the back of Carly’s neck stood up as she backed away.
“What is it, honey?” Her grandma’s eyebrows were raised in concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“The deer… its face… it’s different in that picture. How can that be?”
“Oh Carly, not that deer stuff again, I thought you were over that.” Grandpa Pete stood up and walked toward the fireplace.
“You hear that, Gus? Carly is still afraid of you after all these years. Can you believe that?”
Grandpa Pete chuckled to himself and reached up to jokingly pat the side of the deer’s neck. But as he looked toward his wife, he immediately noticed something was wrong. She had the same petrified expression as his granddaughter. The color had run out of her face, her lips were trembling, and her eyes were frozen in absolute horror.
Pete then felt a burst of warm air on his hand, like something was breathing on it. He slowly turned his head, forcing himself to look at what he knew would be an impossible sight. The deer head had moved, it was breathing, and its cold black eyes were staring right at him, shaking with anger. It had been waiting years for ole Pete to get this close.
Its quivering lips peeled back, revealing a set of jagged, misshapen teeth. It then opened its mouth wider than any normal animal could, its jaw cracking and snapping. It let out a sickening scream that shook the room, and then it bit down into Pete’s hand, ripping the flesh from the bone.
Grandpa Pete fell to the floor, screaming in agony as blood gushed all over the carpet. Carly was frozen in terror, completely unable to move. She could only sit there and tremble violently.
The deer head started to shake back and forth, continuing to scream in a horrific, ear-piercing tone that was gut-wrenching and unnatural. Then the bolts and screws that held it in place started to come out of the wall.
“Get my shotgun!” Grandpa Pete yelled. But before Carly or her grandma could react, the deer head screamed once more, so loudly the windows shook. It then ripped itself from the wall and tumbled down, antlers first into Grandpa Pete, goring him through the stomach.
Grandpa Pete was lying motionless on the floor as a pool of blood collected around him. Then the deer head stopped moving, its deep black eyes now dull and lifeless, its rabid expression of anger wiped away. Whatever spirit that had resided there was now gone… and its revenge was finally complete.
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