Gods Teeth Evidence Kit

EVIDENCE KIT: GOD’S TEETH
Remnants, Hints, and Desperate Obfuscations

U SE E H ER E MAY N EV ER BE FORGOTTEN
WHAT YO yond gh horrors be
pa ign De lta Gr een : Go d’s Teeth takes Agents throu
The cam t in darkness.
In thi s evi de nc e kit we bri ng to light moments best lef
imagining. of the threats
d’s Te eth ch ap ter, the se pieces evoke the awful truths
Gathered by Go rs that
Th is kit ask s pla yer s to see themselves and the powe
that face the Agents. shattered glass.
the m. It sca tte rs hin ts an d implications like shards of
claim
of a dreadful tome.
the Ag ents’ world and a summary
» GO FORTH: Fragments from of destruction.
pursuit of a foe in dire need
» THE LONG YEARS: Maps of video
hle t, a fly er, a bir th cer tifi cate, a map; a glimpse of a
» WHITE TEETH: A pamp po rtant texts.
get s mo re dis tre ssi ng wi th every view; summaries of im
that Agents’ most
Co ver s an d sum ma rie s of seven books on the life of the
» THE SPIRAL:
dangerous foe. r that
sum ma ry of the en em y’s deepest secrets and a poste
» THE HIDDEN GOD: A
es and souls are ruined.
holds the rules by which liv the fierce
SH TAR : He wa s a go d wh o laid some special stress on
» SREDNI VA
impatient side of things.
d’s Te eth evi de nc e kit inc ludes a free PDF download.

Every purchase of this Go tin board, the
nd ou ts for yo urs elf . Sh are them on the table, the bulle
Print these ha d waits.
ite wa ll. W he rev er the pla yers gather, a Nameless Go
screen, the clean wh
DELTA GREEN EVIDENCE KIT: GOD’S TEETH

MSRP $19.99
Stock code APU8124 • ISBN 978-1-940410-73-9
Published by Arc Dream Publishing
Sold by Studio 2 Publishing
Get more great games at www.arcdream.com.
This is a work of fiction.
// EVIDENCE KIT: GOD’S TEETH //
ARC DREAM PUBLISHING PRESENTS
DELTA GREEN EVIDENCE KIT: GOD’S TEETH
BY CALEB STOKES
EDITOR SHANE IVEY ILLUSTRATOR DENNIS DETWILLER

GRAPHIC DESIGNER JEN MCCLEARY COPY EDITOR STEPHEN BUCK
DELTA GREEN CREATED BY DENNIS DETWILLER, ADAM SCOTT GLANCY & JOHN SCOTT TYNES
Delta Green Evidence Kit: God’s Teeth is published by Arc Dream LLC dba Arc Dream Publishing in arrangement with the Delta
Green Partnership. The intellectual property known as Delta Green is ™ and © the Delta Green Partnership, which has licensed
its use in this volume. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity with people or events, past or present, is purely coincidental and
unintentional except for those people and events described in historical context. Written by Caleb Stokes. All text and illustra-
tions are © 2023, the Delta Green Partnership. All rights reserved worldwide by the copyright holders. For a free PDF of this
book with your print purchase, contact Arc Dream Publishing at arcdream.com; at 522 W. Riverside Ave., Suite #4121, Spokane,
WA 99201, USA; or by email, info@arcdream.com. For more Delta Green, visit delta-green.com.
Sold for Arc Dream Publishing by Studio2 Publishing:

2663 Byington Solway Road
Knoxville, TN 37931, USA
phone 1-865-212-3797
email jims@studio2publishing.com
Delta Green Evidence Kit: God’s Teeth product stock code APU8124
ISBN 978-1-940410-73-9
Printed in the United States
987654321
3
// Evidence Kit: God’s Teeth // // Delta Green //
Contents
Part One: Go Forth The Spiral
“The Meet”............................................................ 3 Hope Comes Back to Life....................................15
“The Manila Folder”.............................................. 4 The Long Road Home..........................................17
“Red Thoughts in the Slideshow”........................... 4 The Road Show................................................... 19
“Every Child Wants a Pet”.......................................5 Learning to Fly After We Fall...............................21
“Babushka’s Bedroom”........................................... 6 The Hype Train................................................... 22
The Long Years Learning to Fly After We Fall (Summary)............ 23
“Finding the Skoptsi”..............................................7 The Hype Train (Summary)................................. 23
Part 3: White Teeth Part Four: The Hidden God
“The Song”............................................................. 8 “Tillman’s Apartment”......................................... 24
“The Pamphlet”...................................................... 9 “The Airlock and the Rules”..................................25
“Nika’s Thesis” (Trust Your Local Police)............. 10 “Sredni Vashtar”....................................................... 26
“Nika’s Thesis” .....................................................11
“Crystal Killian’s Journal”.................................... 12
“Identifying Noella” ............................................ 13
“Insurance”.......................................................... 14
4
// Delta Green // // Evidence Kit: God’s Teeth //
“T he M eet ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 27
5
“T he M anila F older ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 29
“R ed T houghts in the S lideshow ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 33

6
“E very C hild W ants a P et ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 44
7
Yelena’s Notes
A disorganized jumble of papers contains Yelena Kalamatiano’s journals, experimental logs, enemies list, and recipes. These
documents represent a lifetime spent pursuing the mysteries of Shub-Niggurath, called the Magna Mater or Great Mother, as
part of a patriarchal subculture unappreciative of her gifts: a horrifying subsect of the Skoptsi.
Though far from a complete history, the documents provide a basic outline of Skotpsi theology as well as the location of
the Basilica of Our Virgin Mother and the names of prominent cult members in the unincorporated community called “Mos-
cow on the Chesapeake.” Long-term study could slowly reveal bits of information about the cult and its history.
As Yelena grew older, the loss of the Black Icons and the cult’s refusal to grant her immortality made her bitter toward the
group’s elders. Meanwhile, the boys in the Skoptsi spent their time occupied by their “diversions,” horrifying sexual abuse in
the name of their goddess. The papers are part coup and part fantasy of what she would do if given sufficient power.
Using her already considerable skills as a sorcerer, Kalamatiano began experimenting with a way to recontact
Shub-Niggurath’s spawn, such as the otherworldly terrors called haedi nigritiae, and grant herself immortality. The efforts
were fruitless, resulting in nothing save the accelerated depletion of the cult’s already dwindling stable of child victims. How-
ever, Kalamatiano did stumble onto a new ritual she calls “Estrus of the Mother.” It did not grant her immortality, but it trans-
formed her and provided a grotesque tool for enhancing her sorcerous power. She details that and many other awful rituals.
“B abushka ’ s B edroom ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 64
8
“F inding the S koptsi ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 88
9
“T he S ong ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 146

“T he P amphlet ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 149

11
“N ika ’ s T hesis ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 157
12
The Effects of Traumatic In-Group Behavioral Fluency on Late-Stage First Language Acquisition
A litter of handwritten and printed pages comprise a manuscript version of Nika Leninovna Chilikov’s master’s
thesis in child psychology. Only the abstract, first few pages, and bibliography are complete.
Chilikov’s subjects are the children shipped from Maryland to the King-Torino Children’s Refuge. Each is giv-
en a simple moniker (“Sub. A,” “Sub. B,” etc.) to protect anonymity. The “Methods” section, which describes each
child, makes it clear Chilikov included herself in the study. The consulting Ph.D. on the thesis is Sarah Brice, who
worked at King-Torino and signed off on the use of her case files. Brice died of a brain tumor in 2012.
The thrust of Chilikov’s argument is that under certain extreme conditions of educational neglect and physical
abuse, housing victims together may actually impede their development of language skills. She explains that strict
in-group norms forged in the abusive environment can severely alter behavior and communication. The paper re-
counts, through a veil of objectivity, Chilikov’s own struggles after accepting the tutelage of Dr. Brice, the violence
she endured at the hands of her former friends, and her slow progress in education despite enormous pressure
to shut down.
Chilikov’s notes include a few sketches of drawings left by the children, including a small, childlike figure with
red hands stands triumphant over larger, adult victims all lying in blood. The head of each victim has a red splotch
that might represent the brain. Other children and small animals watch in a crowd. Other sketches include a pole
with a pair of horns atop it against the sun at the horizon, a strange dead tree curling against stars and the moon,
and a campfire seen through a thicket of skinny trees. She cannot decipher their meaning. The “red brain” design
appeared most often. The subjects drew or painted it only when they were separated for lengths of time, leaving
symbols for each other in a playroom. It first appeared in 2004 outside the office of Dr. Brice, whom the subjects
loathed and feared for trying to help them communicate. In 2006, one of them drew it on a sketch of a particular-
ly brutal caretaker. In 2007, one of them drew it on every copy of a cheery, cartoonish pamphlet that encouraged
children to trust police.
“N ika ’ s T hesis ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 157
13
Crystal Killian’s Journal

The journal is bound in faux leather, a mass-market model purchased from Borders bookstore. Only about half of its 300 pages
contain writing. The cover and pages are torn from a variety of animal teeth and claws, likely the same that shredded most of
the other books and documents found in the trailer’s office. Most pages are clotted with blood that pooled around the document
where it lay on the floor. This makes parsing the document difficult. Ink has run or been overwritten by bloody grime.
Killian’s notes trace investigations into the forces that destroyed her life in her time with Delta Green from 1996 to 2001,
the year she fled with her family and began the inevitable process of their leaving her alone with her obsessions.
C-Cell
Killian mentions working with an FBI agent and an intelligence officer, given the pseudonyms “Cole” and “Cooper.” To a reader
who knows how Delta Green worked in those days, it’s clear that she advised them as a friendly at first and then as an agent
beginning in 2000. She writes that “Cole” and “Cooper” died in a shootout and fire at a taxi garage. Cole handed her a folder
of evidence that he had found and told her to run. She writes about the folder like a source of the most traumatic horrors imagin-
able without ever giving details.
It’s clear why Delta Green once found her a useful asset. Once freed from the constraints of her family life, Killian made
remarkable progress in multiple lines of inquiry using pure academic research. If her journal is any indication, her work and
psychological stability deteriorated steadily over the years.
Skoptsi
Much of the still-legible material regards the history of the American offshoot of the Skoptsi, based on what Killian remembered
of the investigation before she fled. She discovered anthropological records suggesting the cult’s original purge from Russia and
immigration to the U.S., settling in Los Angeles in the early 20th century and decades later in Maryland.
She even made some remarkably accurate suppositions as to the nature of their worship of “The Magna Mater,” presented
to the public as a version of the Virgin Mary but worshiped secretly with horrific and bloody rituals as a pagan goddess of
eternal life. Most importantly, Killian linked ownership of the Basilica of Our Virgin Mother in Maryland, at the community nick-
named “Moscow on the Chesapeake,” to the cult.
The Program
Another line of inquiry regards the fate of survivors of Delta Green. This section is largely written as interviews with code named
subjects (unless it is to be believed that Killian received information about Delta Green from the members of Boyz II Men and
C+C Music Factory). Each coded entry appears to be notes hastily scratched after interviews with other operatives of “the
Group” that she managed to track down. Though she never mentions interviewees by name, she took first-hand accounts of the
conflict that gave rise to the Program. Killian corroborated the radio silence she experienced with that of other agents, though
none appeared to have experienced the total loss of fellow agents that caused her to flee.
The interviewees warn of a new, “official” group entirely suborned by the enemy and urge Killian to stay in the shadows.
She muses that the silence of the leaders of “the Group” may have been a coincidence that unfortunately intersected with the
disaster during the Skoptsi investigation, but the thought of both misfortunes falling on her at the same time appears to be too
much for her to have entertained for long.
Killian made only one slip in her notes. She includes enough scattered details about “Cole” to piece together that he was an
FBI agent who vanished in 2001. Then in one hasty, exhausted scrawl she calls him “Hall.”
The Children
The final investigative thrust of the notes appears to concern the whereabouts of the children from Cornucopia House. Cut off
from access to federal documents, Killian made the least progress on this front. She wasn’t sure if the children were alive or if her
final order had been followed, and this uncertainty seemed to cause her much distress.
She never knew the names of the children housed at Cornucopia House in the first place, and sealed juvenile records made
finding more information impossible. The most she managed to maintain was an up-to-date record of information available about
the “friendlies” she sent to destroy Cornucopia House, hoping that, if need arose, keeping track of them would lead her to the
whereabouts of the children.
Killian notes seeing a number of strange symbols or icons sprayed like graffiti. She sketches a “red brain” that she saw on
trash at her trailer in 2016. She mentions trying to gain access to the “GARI database” to search for it. Her notes wonder what
the symbols mean or what locations they represent. She did not live long enough to find out.
“C rystal K illian ’ s J ournal ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 164

159 page
“I dentifying N oella ,” G od ’ s T eeth
15
“I nsurance ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 161
16
“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212
17

18
19

21
22
23
24

Conradin’s Exercise Book

Conradin’s leather-bound journal dates back to when he was 16 years old. Esau, Jacob, Conradin, whatever you call him,
underwent a remarkable developmental recovery. The tortured prose indicates he only learned to decode language at the
very end of his developmental stage. Though blessed by strange opportunities, Conradin struggled his whole life to obscure
his difficulty with communication, to protect both his father’s snake-oil education empire and his own mission. He treated
every interaction and interior thought as a laborious composition exercise, in need of careful research and drafting. Though
never quite achieving grade-level literacy, tutoring and Conradin’s personal dedication improved his language skills pro-
foundly over the last decade.
Entries during the college years contain concise, careful paraphrases of complex reading assignments given at Duke
and completed by professional plagiarist “ScribeLife420.” Interspersed with spelling and grammar exercises is a diary of
Conradin’s study of the nameless force that drives him. In his years with his father Eli Tillman, he stumbled across Saki’s
famous story of Sredni Vashtar and found it beautiful. Sredni Vashtar became Conradin’s name for his nameless god.
In the journal, Conradin catalogues the strange impulses and certainties that guide him through life. He tries to piece
together everything he can remember from Cornucopia House. He theorizes that his neurological damage could serve to
obscure the source of that power, that influence. It connects him “to the quiet that let us first hear.”
With a brain partially segmented by other eldritch sorceries, Conradin retained limited access to the divine and did his
level best to translate it into paltry words. Conradin studied Egyptology, history, mythology, and quantum physics—at least
insofar as tutors could winnow down the specialist vocabulary into something he could manage. He used his father’s wealth
to buy a degree and research the history of his terrifying god on Earth.
Cults in mythical Atlantis and Lemuria worshipped it before recorded history. The earliest Egyptians sacrificed and
prayed to it as Bast: a protector against evil magic, against evil spirits and cruel powers. Myths named Bast among the god-
desses called the Eye of Re, defender of order against the chaos serpent Apep. The Nameless God warred with the legend-
ary Black Pharaoh, Nephren-Ka, said to be a god himself. But the Nameless God’s hungers consumed even its own worship-
pers. Its power withdrew. It waited. Some say the fabled gods of Earth hide in the land of dreams, no longer concerned with
the doings of humanity. They hide with good reason.
Conradin’s sketches represent his beloved deity as a ferocious lioness, a sunlit guardian and hunter among the stars in
the sky, made of stars and devouring stars. He writes that it—never “she”— feeds on unnatural power. Power itself is the prey
of Bast, the god that hungers, the god that feeds.
Was Bast born into the universe, some strange entity that evolved with it? Is Bast an aggregate of countless weird pro-
cesses of the absorption of power? An emergent property of the ways in which strange energies that we call unnatural move
from state to state, from reality to unreality? Is it, like life itself in some theories, merely a byproduct of the inevitability of
entropy? Is it an epiphenomenon of the unthinkable Source of all power in the universe, in all universes, blindly hungering to
reclaim itself? Conradin does not know.
Bast is but one name for a cosmic need to hunt and consume. It manipulates reality and engineers causality. It singles
out servants that carry out its work and marks them, scars them, and claims them its own, forever: its Teeth.
Conradin explicitly describes how to create new Teeth and continue the cycle. That is the sole purpose of the “Private
Side” of his detention facility.
The latest entries record Conradin’s use of federal resources to hunt for his former peers from Cornucopia House. This
research led him to the Agents’ operations. He’s close to discovering their identities, but he doesn’t appear to be looking very
hard. As if he expects the information to soon reveal itself.
The last page of the journal is dated the day before Agents locate the book. It reads, “They are coming. You are here.”
“T illman ’ s A partment ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 229
26
“T he A irlock and the R ules ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 243
27
Sredni Vashtar
by Saki
h
C
onradin was ten years old, and the doctor had pronounced his
professional opinion that the boy would not live another five
years. The doctor was silky and effete, and counted for little,
but his opinion was endorsed by Mrs. De Ropp, who counted
for nearly everything. Mrs. De Ropp was Conradin’s cousin and guardian,
and in his eyes she represented those three-fifths of the world that are nec-
essary and disagreeable and real; the other two-fifths, in perpetual antag-
onism to the foregoing, were summed up in himself and his imagination.
One of these days Conradin supposed he would succumb to the mastering
pressure of wearisome necessary things—such as illnesses and coddling
restrictions and drawn-out dullness. Without his imagination, which was
rampant under the spur of loneliness, he would have succumbed long ago.
Mrs. De Ropp would never, in her honestest moments, have confessed
to herself that she disliked Conradin, though she might have been dimly
aware that thwarting him “for his good” was a duty which she did not
find particularly irksome. Conradin hated her with a desperate sinceri-
ty which he was perfectly able to mask. Such few pleasures as he could
contrive for himself gained an added relish from the likelihood that they
would be displeasing to his guardian, and from the realm of his imagina-
tion she was locked out—an unclean thing, which should find no entrance.
In the dull, cheerless garden, overlooked by so many windows that were
ready to open with a message not to do this or that, or a reminder that
medicines were due, he found little attraction. The few fruit-trees that it
contained were set jealously apart from his plucking, as though they were
rare specimens of their kind blooming in an arid waste; it would probably
28
have been difficult to find a market-gardener who would have offered

ten shillings for their entire yearly produce. In a forgotten corner, how-
ever, almost hidden behind a dismal shrubbery, was a disused tool-shed
of respectable proportions, and within its walls Conradin found a haven,
something that took on the varying aspects of a playroom and a cathedral.
He had peopled it with a legion of familiar phantoms, evoked partly from
fragments of history and partly from his own brain, but it also boasted
two inmates of flesh and blood. In one corner lived a ragged-plumaged
Houdan hen, on which the boy lavished an affection that had scarcely
another outlet. Further back in the gloom stood a large hutch, divided
into two compartments, one of which was fronted with close iron bars.
This was the abode of a large polecat-ferret, which a friendly butcher-boy
had once smuggled, cage and all, into its present quarters, in exchange
for a long-secreted hoard of small silver. Conradin was dreadfully afraid
of the lithe, sharp-fanged beast, but it was his most treasured possession.
Its very presence in the tool-shed was a secret and fearful joy, to be kept
scrupulously from the knowledge of the Woman, as he privately dubbed
his cousin. And one day, out of Heaven knows what material, he spun the
beast a wonderful name, and from that moment it grew into a god and a
religion. The Woman indulged in religion once a week at a church near
by, and took Conradin with her, but to him the church service was an
alien rite in the House of Rimmon. Every Thursday, in the dim and musty
silence of the tool-shed, he worshipped with mystic and elaborate ceremo-
nial before the wooden hutch where dwelt Sredni Vashtar, the great ferret.
Red flowers in their season and scarlet berries in the winter-time were
offered at his shrine, for he was a god who laid some special stress on the
fierce impatient side of things, as opposed to the Woman’s religion, which,
as far as Conradin could observe, went to great lengths in the contrary
direction. And on great festivals powdered nutmeg was strewn in front
of his hutch, an important feature of the offering being that the nutmeg
had to be stolen. These festivals were of irregular occurrence, and were
chiefly appointed to celebrate some passing event. On one occasion, when
29
Mrs. De Ropp suffered from acute toothache for three days, Conradin
kept up the festival during the entire three days, and almost succeeded in
persuading himself that Sredni Vashtar was personally responsible for the
toothache. If the malady had lasted for another day the supply of nutmeg
would have given out.
The Houdan hen was never drawn into the cult of Sredni Vashtar. Con-
radin had long ago settled that she was an Anabaptist. He did not pretend
to have the remotest knowledge as to what an Anabaptist was, but he pri-
vately hoped that it was dashing and not very respectable. Mrs. De Ropp
was the ground plan on which he based and detested all respectability.
After a while Conradin’s absorption in the tool-shed began to attract the
notice of his guardian. “It is not good for him to be pottering down there
in all weathers,” she promptly decided, and at breakfast one morning she
announced that the Houdan hen had been sold and taken away overnight.
With her short-sighted eyes she peered at Conradin, waiting for an out-
break of rage and sorrow, which she was ready to rebuke with a flow of
excellent precepts and reasoning. But Conradin said nothing: there was
nothing to be said. Something perhaps in his white set face gave her a
momentary qualm, for at tea that afternoon there was toast on the table,
a delicacy which she usually banned on the ground that it was bad for
him; also because the making of it “gave trouble,” a deadly offence in the
middle- class feminine eye.
“I thought you liked toast,” she exclaimed, with an injured air, observing
that he did not touch it.
“Sometimes,” said Conradin.
In the shed that evening there was an innovation in the worship of the
hutch-god. Conradin had been wont to chant his praises, tonight be asked
a boon.
“Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.”
The thing was not specified. As Sredni Vashtar was a god he must be
supposed to know. And choking back a sob as he looked at that other
empty corner, Conradin went back to the world he so hated.
30
And every night, in the welcome darkness of his bedroom, and every
evening in the dusk of the tool-shed, Conradin’s bitter litany went up:
“Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.”
Mrs. De Ropp noticed that the visits to the shed did not cease, and one
day she made a further journey of inspection.
“What are you keeping in that locked hutch?” she asked. “I believe it’s
guinea-pigs. I’ll have them all cleared away.”
Conradin shut his lips tight, but the Woman ransacked his bedroom
till she found the carefully hidden key, and forthwith marched down to
the shed to complete her discovery. It was a cold afternoon, and Con-
radin had been bidden to keep to the house. From the furthest window
of the dining-room the door of the shed could just be seen beyond the
corner of the shrubbery, and there Conradin stationed himself. He saw
the Woman enter, and then be imagined her opening the door of the
sacred hutch and peering down with her short-sighted eyes into the
thick straw bed where his god lay hidden. Perhaps she would prod at
the straw in her clumsy impatience. And Conradin fervently breathed
his prayer for the last time. But he knew as he prayed that he did not
believe. He knew that the Woman would come out presently with that
pursed smile he loathed so well on her face, and that in an hour or two
the gardener would carry away his wonderful god, a god no longer, but
a simple brown ferret in a hutch. And he knew that the Woman would
triumph always as she triumphed now, and that he would grow ever
more sickly under her pestering and domineering and superior wisdom,
till one day nothing would matter much more with him, and the doctor
would be proved right. And in the sting and misery of his defeat, he
began to chant loudly and defiantly the hymn of his threatened idol:
Sredni Vashtar went forth,

His thoughts were red thoughts and his teeth were white.
His enemies called for peace, but he brought them death.
Sredni Vashtar the Beautiful.
31
And then of a sudden he stopped his chanting and drew closer to the
window-pane. The door of the shed still stood ajar as it had been left,
and the minutes were slipping by. They were long minutes, but they
slipped by nevertheless. He watched the starlings running and flying in
little parties across the lawn; he counted them over and over again, with
one eye always on that swinging door. A sour-faced maid came in to
lay the table for tea, and still Conradin stood and waited and watched.
Hope had crept by inches into his heart, and now a look of triumph
began to blaze in his eyes that had only known the wistful patience of
defeat. Under his breath, with a furtive exultation, he began once again
the pæan of victory and devastation. And presently his eyes were re-
warded: out through that doorway came a long, low, yellow-and-brown
beast, with eyes a-blink at the waning daylight, and dark wet stains
around the fur of jaws and throat. Conradin dropped on his knees. The
great polecat-ferret made its way down to a small brook at the foot of
the garden, drank for a moment, then crossed a little plank bridge and
was lost to sight in the bushes. Such was the passing of Sredni Vashtar.
“Tea is ready,” said the sour-faced maid; “where is the mistress?” “She
went down to the shed some time ago,” said Conradin. And while the
maid went to summon her mistress to tea, Conradin fished a toasting-
fork out of the sideboard drawer and proceeded to toast himself a piece
of bread. And during the toasting of it and the buttering of it with much
butter and the slow enjoyment of eating it, Conradin listened to the
noises and silences which fell in quick spasms beyond the dining-room
door. The loud foolish screaming of the maid, the answering chorus of
wondering ejaculations from the kitchen region, the scuttering footsteps
and hurried embassies for outside help, and then, after a lull, the scared
sobbings and the shuffling tread of those who bore a heavy burden into
the house.
“Whoever will break it to the poor child? I couldn’t for the life of me!”
exclaimed a shrill voice. And while they debated the matter among
themselves, Conradin made himself another piece of toast.
32

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EVIDENCE KIT: GOD’S TEETH

Remnants, Hints, and Desperate Obfuscations

d’s Te eth evi de nc e kit inc ludes a free PDF download.

DELTA GREEN EVIDENCE KIT: GOD’S TEETH

EDITOR SHANE IVEY ILLUSTRATOR DENNIS DETWILLER

Sold for Arc Dream Publishing by Studio2 Publishing:

“T he M eet ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 27

“T he M anila F older ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 29

“R ed T houghts in the S lideshow ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 33

“E very C hild W ants a P et ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 44

“B abushka ’ s B edroom ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 64

“F inding the S koptsi ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 88

“T he S ong ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 146

“T he P amphlet ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 149

“N ika ’ s T hesis ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 157

“N ika ’ s T hesis ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 157

Crystal Killian’s Journal

“C rystal K illian ’ s J ournal ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 164

“I nsurance ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 161

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

“E li T illman ’ s M emoirs ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 212

Conradin’s Exercise Book

“T illman ’ s A partment ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 229

“T he A irlock and the R ules ,” G od ’ s T eeth page 243

have been difficult to find a market-gardener who would have offered

Sredni Vashtar went forth,

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