It gives far easier than he'd expected, peeling back like tissue paper to reveal what lies beneath. A single tooth stares up at him. It's a canine, slick and white where it protrudes up and out of his skin. In the fluorescent light, it looks almost unreal, like it's some photo-edit or image manipulation, but Aaron can still feel the root of it embedded in his stomach, exerting a dull, faintly painful pressure against his flesh. Numbly, he takes it between forefinger and thumb, grasping it as firmly as he can, and then, with a sharp inhale, he tugs.