There was a girl named Rina, a small-time streamer who spent most of her nights in front of a ring light, talking to strangers for hours. She didn’t have friends in real life — only usernames in the chat who sent her small gifts.

One night, during a late livestream, a gift notification appeared:

“Anonymous sent you: SkinGlow Premium Cream.”

It arrived the next morning in a plain jar. No brand, no label — just a soft, sweet smell. The card inside said, “For a more beautiful you. Apply generously.”

Rina laughed at the weirdness but decided to try it on stream. “Why not? Maybe it’ll make me pretty enough for more followers,” she joked, smearing it across her arms and neck.

At first, it tingled pleasantly. Her viewers spammed heart emojis. But halfway through the stream, someone in chat typed:

“Wait… what’s that on your shoulder?”

Rina leaned toward the camera. A small, wet slit was forming in her skin — and inside it, tiny teeth.

She gasped, but the chat exploded with excitement. “Fake effects, right? Do more!”

Lonely and craving the attention, she smiled nervously and kept streaming. Over the next nights, she kept applying the cream.

The mouths multiplied.

One on her leg whispered at night.

One on her hand laughed when she dropped things.

One on her stomach giggled and asked for food — “Feed me, Rina.”

She should have been horrified. But for the first time in her life, she wasn’t alone. They talked to her when chat was quiet. They told her she was beautiful. They told her to keep going.

Her streams got longer. Viewers couldn’t look away as new mouths appeared — on her arms, her neck, her cheeks, even inside her eyelids. Her eyes vanished, replaced with hungry grins. The last stream anyone saw her in, her body was nothing but mouths, chattering in unison.

The camera fell over, but the stream never ended.

It’s still live.

The chat is empty now.

But sometimes… people say they hear her voice, asking softly:

“Want to try my cream?”