“We’ve saved the best for last,” Mother exclaims, handing her son another wrapped present.

​

“You really spoil him,” Auntie says, playfully shaking her head.

​

“It feels empty,” the boy says. “What is it? Better not be another sweater.”

​

“Open and see,” Father says. “It’s a rite of passage. Something every boy in our family gets on his twelfth birthday.”

​

“That takes me back,” Grandfather says with watery eyes. “Seems like yesterday you opened yours.”

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“I’ll never forget,” Father says. “I couldn’t contain myself.”

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The chatter piques the boy’s interest, but deep down, he knows it will be boring. Adults and children do not find joy in the same types of gifts.

​

He begins tearing the solid red paper and notices it feels wet on the inner white portion. The box is a plain corrugated cube, about half the size of a bread box. The boy lifts the lid and peers inside.

​

The contents are that of a terrarium, with various green plants such as moss and fern. The boy examines the tiny forest with confusion. “What is it?”

​

“Look closer,” Father says eagerly.

​

The boy leans in and sees movement in the small bushes. Then a shadowy thing zooms from behind it to another grassy patch. The boy smiles, elated by the prospect of a new pet. He has his face within the rim of the habitat, hoping it will come out to play.

​

Something leaps out and onto the boy’s face. He falls onto his back as a long, skinny insect crawls over his hair and neck. The boy wails, grasping at what resembles a demonic centipede, or perhaps a miniature dragon from a Japanese festival.

​

“There he goes,” Grandfather says. “He’ll be talking about this for weeks.”

​

“Boys will be boys,” Mother says, rolling her eyes.

​

“I told you you’re spoiling him,” Auntie adds, holding back a smile.

​

The thing circles the boy’s scalp repeatedly, as if searching for something. Suddenly, it stops at his ear, burrowing itself inside. The boy screams louder, but he’s unable to stop it from entering, from disappearing.

​

“I do love birthdays,” Father laughs.

© Copyright 2025 Alex Tucker

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Alex Tucker is an HWA writer from the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia. His novella Afraid to Feel will debut in Aug 2025 through Alien Buddha Press. Two of his other books will be published sometime in 2026. Alex’s short fiction has been featured by Creepy Podcast and Black Hare Press. Others will be included in upcoming anthologies by Graveside Press, Black Hare Press, and Inky Bones Press. Alex currently lives in Japan with his wife and their two cats.