Explore Dentophobia

It felt like nothing could dampen his good mood; as Dr. Teeth strutted down a street, in New Orleans, Louisiana, he looked around, at all the familiar shops, recalling fond memories. He saw an old music shop, Jerry’s Tunes, and let out a light chuckle, knowing that was where Floyd used to work. “Love that bassman.” Dr. Teeth smiled, softly, before continuing his walk. He didn’t know how he ended up back in his hometown, but he seemed to dig it, until he heard an unsettling noise, and that noise almost sounded familiar to him. “W-What's that…?” he gulped, as his usual smile disappeared, and his eyes widened. He glanced at an adjacent building's window, and gasped, at what was there: the silhouette of a dentist preparing to operate on a patient. “That dental office wasn't there, a minute ago…!” Dr. Teeth gasped, in horror, before he heard the unsettling noise, again. This time, he knew that sound: the high-pitched whirring of a dentist's drill, and it was one of his least-favorite