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Billy Hindle
Hi there, Billy Hindle here, the voice of Alice Dyer in the Magnus Protocol. As part of the Magnus Archive's 10th anniversary, Rusty Quill is hosting a special Magnus Live show at the upcoming Crossed Wires Podcast Festival in Sheffield. Join co creators Jonathan Sims and Alexander J. Newell on 5 July for a new iteration of our live show. Statement Begins, where you can hear fan favorite statements such as Anglerfish Red Live and gain exclusive insights into the creation and history of the show straight from the creators themselves. You can buy your tickets now, including limited numbers of meet and greet tickets from Crossedwires Live or the link in the description of this episode.
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Jameela Jamil
What if you laughed all through your commute? Or if you heard the funniest story while at the gym? Well, now you can I'm Jameela Jamil, and guests on my new podcast Wrong Turns share their most mortifying and hilarious disaster stories. I'm talking people like May Martin, Bob the Drag Queen, Katherine Ryan, Jake Johnson Margaret Cho, Simon Pegg, Penn Badgley, and so many more. So listen wherever you get your podcasts. Wrong Turns Where Dignity goes to die
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Jonathan Sims
hi there, Jonathan Sims here. And before today's episode, I wanted to tell you about from the Library of Jurgen Leitner, an upcoming the Magnus Archives prequel novel available for pre order right now at www.rustyquill.com novel Return to the World of the Magnus Archives Inn from the Library of Jurgen Leitner an official prequel novel written by Nebula World Fantasy and Aurora Award winning author Premie Mohammed. With the help of yours truly, from the Library of Jurgen Leitner explores an infamous organization from the Magnusverse for the first time. The perilous private library of the enigmatic collector Jurgen Leitner from the Library of Jurgen Leitner will be published on October 27, 2026 and is available for pre order now as a hardback audiobook and eBook. Visit www.rustedquill.com novel for more information. That's rustyquill.com novel or click the link in the show notes of this episode.
Narrator (Fictional Story)
The tooth fairy's tale by ben folk. Screams of pain, sobs of children, voices raised in grief, anger and consuming fear. Stepping through the ER of the Macris Family Hospital is like diving headfirst into the raging depths of a storm swept ocean. Small, unassuming and woefully understaffed. It is not used to such strain. The quick strides of my clogs, cement boots squeaking across freshly mopped linoleum are the only thing that keeps me from being swept away by the torrent.
Billy Hindle
There.
Narrator (Fictional Story)
The front desk. I wrap my knuckles across wood, but her back is turned, a phone pressed to her ear. Her tone is low and assuring. But beneath the table, fingers tug and tug at a loose string. An ever increasing stack of intake form sits waiting for attendance. Emily. I call, then again, louder. The chair swivels and eyes barely register my presence before a clipboard is thrust into my hands. I don't look at it. Not yet. Time to continue. Onwards. Squeak. Squeak across the floor. I quicken my pace to avoid a sliding trolley. Its occupant, an elderly liver spotted man, grimaces in pain. Bubbling red burns curl up his limbs, practically spelling out the hiss of flames. I drag my eyes away. Onwards, head down, eyes forward, one foot after another. I reach the elevator. A doctor rushes out, a resident scrambling to follow suit. I step past them and inside to tap the button marked B. The metal cage shudders, then trundles downwards at a shaky pace. You can do this. It is only once I push through the final heavy door and into the cold steel coffin of the morgue that I breathe a deep, shuddering breath that reminds me all too much of the storm upstairs. I take the liberty of another. Then, gloves on, face shield up, I get to work. You can do this. The first body. You must understand when I say that this was my first day on the job, I do not in any way mean that I didn't know what I was doing. No years of training, toil, and sweat had led up to this moment. I had certainly done a couple of autopsies before, always accompanied by an attending
Billy Hindle
physician or a team of other students, of course.
Narrator (Fictional Story)
But I knew what I was doing. I was a forensic examiner fellow, I told myself, and I knew what I was doing. I opened the freezer door and slid out the first body. The tray it lay on clicked smoothly into the transition cart, which I then wheeled over to the central examination table. What had Dr. Bailfuss said before he'd left? It's just a one night conference, remember? Stick to routine. It's a good opportunity to get practice in for when you take over. There's a first time for everything. Maybe take another look at the Coldwater case. Just do three inspections and call it a day. I'll be back in the morning. Well, here was my opportunity. Laughing me in the face. Only three autopsies. Only three bodies. I looked down at the corpse. The flesh on its face was cracked and sunken, twisted from the heat. Blood pooled under blackened cheeks, but freshly shaved sideburns indicated that there had been life just days, hours before. I'd never been good with the freshly dead. His eyes were open, glassy and staring. The surrounding skin, shrunken by the heat, was pulled taut across bone like a shoddy taxidermy display. The worst part was that he looked familiar. Morkhus was my hometown. The house was sold and the parents were gone, but my memories still pocked the streets. The streets that now burned from the horrible fire. I wondered how many of those memories were left. The public library. My favorite ice cream shop. The restaurants. The pie place the school had. The corpse worked there. Why couldn't I place his face?
Billy Hindle
What did that say about me?
Narrator (Fictional Story)
Why couldn't I? I stomped on the weathered rubber pedal by my feet. There was a click and a whirr as the overhead mics began to record. I began to cut. First the shears. Each article of clothing, one by one. Trousers and undergarments came easily, but the shirt, the shirt was melted and fused to the flesh so caked in ash that the simple Bigfoot and Comic Sans I believe in you was hardly visible. My fingers tore at both flesh and fabric as I pulled, so I gave it a rest. Male sex appears to be in their late 40s. Good. My voice was steady. Signs of hypoxia. Mottled skin in the less charred areas. Soot around the nose and mouth. Fixed and dilated pupils unblinking. Dilated pupils. They looked at me. I shook my head. Cause of death likely smoke inhalation. Obvious. Second and third degree burns across the body. I examined the discarded mangled trousers and fished out a twisted pile of leather. A wallet. Name? Yes. Name legible as Alexander Goodkin's. The name didn't ring a bell. Why didn't it ring a bell? Identification concluded. We'll return to gross and histologic examination for further findings. Quick, thorough and to the point. I scratched the name off the clipboard list of reported missing persons. More bodies would be coming in and thus the priority was to identify, not examine. A much simpler task involved less elbow deep digging. I could do the more taxing parts when I wasn't alone. The staring dead eyed pupils reminded me I wasn't alone. I took a deep breath, slid it back on the cart into the freezer and shut the door. One down. That wasn't too bad, was it? I remember the times when the world moved slower. It felt like a dream then and feels like a dream now. Small pockets of dream in between nightmares. Mom, dad.
Billy Hindle
My tooth is loose. Nothing but laughs and blue glare from the tv.
Narrator (Fictional Story)
But I know they heard. I know they heard because the Tooth
Billy Hindle
Fairy comes when I lose a tooth.
Narrator (Fictional Story)
Well, not the tooth Fairy, but I let them think that I still believe that kid's story. I let them think and I leave
Billy Hindle
the window open for her to flutter in.
Narrator (Fictional Story)
It's like a game and when I hear their footsteps across the carpet, feel
Billy Hindle
their hands slide under my pillow to
Narrator (Fictional Story)
collect the little pearl, trying not to giggle and close my eyes shut the whole time. It reminds me that they hear the second body. Everyone thinks forensics is just dusting fingerprints and catching the criminal, but more often than not it's about reading. Reading the story of a corpse. The angle of a wound was the gunshot homicide or self inflicted. The contusions on their head a slip and fall or a hammer to the head. Obviously some corpses have simpler stories to tell than others, especially when I'm only looking for the exposition. The second corpse isn't as lucky as Mr. Goodkin's no wallet or other form of ID, but her face again feels familiar. There aren't even fingers to go off, at least from what the first responders recovered. A simple, mangled, shriveled, rotting corpse. Buried and suffocated and peeled out from under rubble. I wonder if it left a shadow behind. Like the nuclear outlines in Hiroshima, but stained of grease. Sizzling, dripping grease. I don't have to imagine the stink. Maybe the corpse is lucky. Lucky that they don't have to smell it, see it, feel it. I jolt as the heavy steel door clanks open. Someone comes in and slides a new body onto a freezer tray. I don't look up. Don't pay them any mind. I'm only going to do three bodies. No more, no less. I've already decided on which ones, Mr. Goodkins. The mystery woman on the table right now. And either deceased number three or number four. One of the less burned ones. Or maybe deceased number eight. So charred that it was more of a skeleton. Surely that'd be easier than all the meat. I realise I'm stalling. Everyone thinks forensics is about fingerprints, but more often than not it's about the teeth. Morcris being a small town, there was only ever one dental practice. Smiley Bud's Dental. It made things simple enough for freak events of mass casualty. Not that such a thing had ever happened here before. Even if they had, only the charts of specific individuals would be pulled. Those missing or obviously deceased. But with the fire still burning its way through the surrounding forest and her body being found every hour, well, it was better to be safe than sorry. Over 30 years of smiles all pulled and waiting in a dusty paper box for my examination. Crowns, jaw deformities, fillings, teeth loss, teeth shape, X rays, root structure.
Billy Hindle
Hell, I even saw a before and
Narrator (Fictional Story)
after braces peg in there. 32 fingerprints for each corpse. The corpse. I moved my gloved hands towards the corpse's droopy, gloopy mouth and prod it testingly. Jaws fused together as I thought. I take a deep breath and pick up the scalpel. The lips cut astonishingly similar to the clothing. The flesh stretches and peels ever so slightly before giving way to the cutting blade, letting flakes of air, fried skin, blossom down the back of the throat. I grab the oral retractor, one prong under each jaw to pry the lips open. Only the mouth is too tight to get a good angle. I pick the scalpel back up and carefully carve open the corpse's cheeks. One prong under each jaw and elevate the tissue. I crank and crank and crank, staring at the widening mask of grinning blood and soot stained enamel. Why does this bother me tonight more than any other night? Why did he have to leave me alone? Who am I kidding? I lean forward towards the grin. The blood is almost gone now. Something doesn't look right. The smile looks too small. The teeth aren't connected to the gums, the roots hanging suspended mid air glints of wire sticking and lacing through gaping holes in the gums. Crimson droplets stick to it like dew in a spider web. Abnormal metal obstruction in the mouth. Thin floss like strands piercing through the gums in multiple areas, wrapping around the it hits me. Baby teeth. I am looking at baby teeth. I remember being so proud of my loose teeth.
Jameela Jamil
Teeth.
Narrator (Fictional Story)
I would tell everyone about them. The head librarian with her shrewd glasses but kind smile. The ice cream scooper with his youthful face and crooked grin. The principal even though he would just press his mouth tighter and tell me to hurry on everyone. Soon my friends joined in a bragging competition of sorts. They laughed and called us cute, but I prided myself on being a trendsetter. The two fairies.
Billy Hindle
Apprentice, they called me.
Narrator (Fictional Story)
Who called me that? Soon my entire class joined in. We just wanted to share our smiles with the world. The Third Body it is long into the night before I return to the examination room. Hours. Hours of talking to the police, phoning in the homicide division, explaining the situation to prying, curious staff. But mostly I was sitting in the dark hallway of an empty wing, away from the storm, away from the fire, and most importantly, away from the teeth. Blood still speckles the blue rubber of my gloves. The bodies are right where I left them. The woman on the table, Mr. Goodkins, half hanging out of his homey freezer, mouth wrenched askew and teeth glinting. It was the first thing I checked. The same as corpse number two. Teeth gone, ripped forcibly out, likely by pliers in their gaping blood. Dried holes. A tasteful reconstruction. Metal fishing line and hooks thoughtfully wrenched this way and that around a central hidden pearl. Baby teeth. Baby teeth. I bet if I check the other freezers I will find the same. I take the deepest breath of my life, eyes tightly shut. One more body. One more body. My feet drag me to freezer number eight. It slides open, wheels screeching like nails on a chalkboard. The most charred body of them all. The heart of the flames where it all started, barely recovered by the firemen they're investigating for potential signs of arson. Now what story does this corpse tell? Do the worn, torn fingernails speak to insanity? Do its wide, yawning eye sockets whisper of a watchful, patient gaze, an artist's appreciation effort spent, positioning the corpses just right as to look like an accident amid the blaze? Does its grinning, skeletal, too small smile greet an old friend? The two fairies apprentice, they called me, whose grin is that? I look at the baby teeth, tiny and innocent despite their yellowing tinge. I look down at the dental record in my hand, my dental record pulled from the files. I do all the measurements, all of the testing, but I already know. A footstep on the carpet, a hand under my pillow, an open window. They're my teeth. He has my teeth. Your smile lit up the room. You were always beaming, no matter the circumstances, My little trendsetter. I'm so glad I could be your tooth fairy.
Magnus Protocol Announcer
The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non commercial share alike 4.0 international license to subscribe, view associated materials or join our Patreon, visit rustyquill.com Rate and review us online. Tweet us the Rustyquill, visit us on Facebook or email us via mail rustyquill.com thanks for listening.
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Do you like being educated on things that entertain but don't matter? Well, then you need to be listening to the Podcast with Knox and Jamie. Every Wednesday we put together an episode dedicated to delightful idiocy to give your brain a break from all the serious and important stuff.
Jamie
Whether we're deep diving a classic movie, dissecting the true meanings behind the newest slang, or dunking on our own listeners for their bad takes or cringy stories, we always approach our topics with humor and just a little bit of side eye, and we end every episode with recommendations on all the best new movies, books, TV shows, or music.
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To find out more, just search up the Podcast with Knox and Jamie wherever you listen to podcasts and prepare to make Wednesday your new favorite day of the week.
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Billy Hindle
Billy Hindle here the voice of Alice in the Magnus Protocol and I'm here to tell you about from the Library of Jurgen Leitner an upcoming novel available for pre order right now@rustedquill.com novel Return to the World of the Magnus Archives in From the Library of Jurgen Leitner an official prequel novel written by Nebula World Fantasy and Aurora Award winning author Preemi Mohammed. With the help of the Magnus Archives own writer and lead voice Jonathan Sims, from the Library of Jurgen Leitner explores an infamous organization from the Magnusverse for the first time. The perilous private library of the enigmatic collector Jurgen Leitner, where occult books are guarded and researched at a fatal cost. Leitner's library keeps the dangers of these books in check and the would be reader safe, or so Lightner claims. For two of Leitner's employees, the risks are worth it. For Hugh Franklin, the library is a place to belong. For Sebastian Everett, the library is an opportunity to indulge arcane ambitions. Though their 10 years at the library were years apart, Hugh and Sebastian's stories unfold in parallel and their footsteps echo down the same eerie aisles, caught in a web spun long before either ever heard the name Jurgen Leitner. Will they find a way out?
Narrator (Fictional Story)
Or will the library consume them before it's too late?
Billy Hindle
From the Library of Jurgen Leitner will be published on October 27, 2026 and is available for preorder now. Visit rustyquill.com novel for more information. That's rustyquill.com N O V E L.
Podcast: The Magnus Archives
Host: Rusty Quill
Episode: Rusty Fears 7 – The Tooth Fairy's Tale by Ben Folk
Date: May 14, 2026
This special installment of The Magnus Archives presents "The Tooth Fairy's Tale" by Ben Folk, delivered as a chilling first-person narrative in the classic Magnus fashion. Set in a small-town hospital overwhelmed by tragedy, the story follows a forensic examiner’s descent into personal and supernatural horror as they conduct autopsies after a catastrophic fire. The episode explores themes of memory, loss, the macabre nature of dental records, and how childhood innocence can merge with adult terror, culminating in a haunting revelation that ties the protagonist's trauma to the legendary figure of the Tooth Fairy.
On the hospital’s chaos:
"Stepping through the ER of the Macris Family Hospital is like diving headfirst into the raging depths of a storm swept ocean." (Narrator, 04:17)
On forensic work’s emotional toll:
"Everyone thinks forensics is just dusting fingerprints and catching the criminal, but more often than not it's about reading. Reading the story of a corpse." (Narrator, 11:40)
On the horror of the dental discovery:
"The smile looks too small. The teeth aren't connected to the gums, the roots hanging suspended mid air glints of wire sticking and lacing through gaping holes... Baby teeth. I am looking at baby teeth." (Narrator, 15:34)
Chilling finale:
"Your smile lit up the room. You were always beaming, no matter the circumstances, My little trendsetter. I'm so glad I could be your tooth fairy." (Narrator, 19:49)
The narrative is steeped in clinical detachment interspersed with mounting unease, blending procedural forensic detail with memories of innocence—an unsettling juxtaposition. The tone is deliberate, introspective, and increasingly claustrophobic, climaxing with a personal, intimate horror. The final twist, laden with nostalgia and betrayal, is delivered in an understated, chilling manner characteristic of The Magnus Archives.
"The Tooth Fairy’s Tale" encapsulates the Magnus Archives’ power to derive supernatural dread and psychological horror from everyday rituals and childhood memories. It’s an episode that lingers, revealing how loss, trauma, and forensic investigation intersect with myth, ultimately suggesting that even the most innocent traditions can manifest into personal nightmare.