The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings - Lot 004 : The Painting (ft. Rebekah Kennedy)

Episode Date: August 10, 2023

When an artist buys a new set of paintbrushes, she gets more than she bargained for.Written by Lauren ShandStars Lauren Clare, Rebekah Kennedy, Addison Peacock, Jade Shand, Everett Shand, Scarlett Shand, Maria McCann, Trevor ShandFeaturing Stephen Knowles as the Antique DealerTheme music by The Newton Brothers Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Hello, and come in. What are you looking for today? I have an outstanding collection of the most disturbing and bizarre objects in existence. Ah, an artist. Okay. Let's see. Check these out. Inside the pouch are seven paintbrushes.

Strange symbols emblazoned onto each of their handles. They hide a sinister secret that you'll hear all about. Close your eyes and picture this. A story I call the painting. Welcome to the antiquarium of sinister happenings and odd goings on. January 17th, 6066. The freshly fallen snow covered the ground and hung on the barren tree branches of cottagewood town. A horse and carriage are seen in the distance.

The More Family Home was filled with warmth, love and love. after. Susan was a mother to three beautiful girls. Her husband Faddeus served as a Union Army chaplain. This left the house ladies to fend for themselves in his vacancy. Mabel was the oldest and was 17 years of age, followed by Adelaide, who was 16, and youngest, Clementine, who was 13. The sisters did everything together, but couldn't be more different. Mabel was tall and lanky with long chestnut brown hair and big hazel eyes. She often wore her hair up to keep it out of her face. She was a talented painter and sold her art to help with the household expenses.

She primarily painted people but occasionally painted landscapes and objects to add variety to our work. Adelaide had long, beautiful wavy locks that framed her elegant face. She was an excellent seamstress. She made all the women in the moor house, dresses. They could not afford to purchase anything as fancy as that in the shops. So Adelaide would buy the fabric and patterns to make her own. She crafted her designs, which she sold to contribute to the family's finances. Clementine had the most stunning, Auburn hair. Her face was covered in tiny brown freckles. She loved to play piano and spend time with her sisters.

I'm such a fuzler. All my paintbrushes are destroyed. I have to get new ones and I know money is tight. This isn't looking very good. Don't say you're a fuzler. Your brushes are well loved. Well, I guess. Will you come with me into town to grab some new ones? You know, it looks like it's about to snow.

I bet we could get there and back before it starts. Where's your sense of adventure? I do have a sense of adventure. I don't consider walking into town in the cold much of an experience. It's more like torture. Come on. Dr. Daniels asked for this over a month ago, and I want to paint Mommy something nice for Christmas. Oh, all right. Let me get my coat and boots.

My thank you. You are my favorite sister. You say that to all of us. Yeah, but I mean it when I say it to you. Maple and Adelaide bundled up in their warmest garments. Adelaide's gloves were tattered and had holes in the webbing. She couldn't afford a new pair. The two sisters took the same path to town. They walked through the woods, a shortcut to the shop's locations.

Just past her gnawed and a unique tree, Mabel saw a building she had oddly never noticed before. It looked like an old shop and had been there for some time. The sign hanging from the front of a store read Edward's supplies and hobbies. In peering through the window, Mabel noticed that the store sold paints and brushes. Her face lit up with excitement. Have you seen this door before?

I don't recall seeing it last week when I fetched mummy some fabric. Isn't that peculiar? It looks like it's been here for at least a century. I know. It doesn't make any sense. How can this structure stand when this building wasn't here less than a week ago? Maybe we should go to the one you always go to. I have a bad feeling about this one.

Something is off and I can't put my finger on it. I think the cold has gotten to your brain. Why would we walk further in the cold when a store is right before us? I understand your reasoning. Promise me that if anything strange happens, we can leave immediately. Of course, I promise. If something odd happened, I would want to leave too. Those brushes are stunning.

I wonder how much they cost. They don't look cheap, but your birthday is coming and you deserve something nice. You're always putting everyone else's needs first. Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go inside. Why, hello. Welcome to Edwards' supplies and hobbies, and I am he. What can I help you ladies with? My sister is looking for some new paint brushes. Yes, I was eyeing the ones with the maple wood handles that are in your window. What are the prices of those? Oh, don't bother with those. I have the perfect brush set for you. These just came in and belonged to a famous Parisian painter from the seven

The first of the first hundreds. They are used, but are in excellent condition. The shopkeeper reached beneath the counter and pulled out a black fabric pouch. He placed it on the glass counter and untied the straps. A total of seven different sized brushes rested inside. He grabbed the thickest brush and put it in Mabel's hands. Wow. Those are breathtaking. Look at the details etched into the wooden handles. Do you know what those symbols represent?

They are quite unique, aren't they? I believe they have something to do with old royalty. These are truly beautiful, but I don't have the pocket money for them. It's been a good month in sales. So this one is on the house. Oh, I couldn't. It's such a kind gesture, and I appreciate it, but it's too much for me to accept. That reminds me.

How long has your store been open? We have been open for a few months. Isn't that peculiar? I went the same way into town last week, and I could swear I never came across it. Are you sure you've been here that long? I would recall something so grand as my store's opening date. Perhaps you overlooked our establishment because you simply weren't looking for it. Perhaps.

Please accept these brushes as a warm gesture of gratitude for visiting. Since you are hesitant to receive this gift, how about you bring me your first painting using these, as payment. Does that seem fair? Mabel looked on shore. Mabel, you are a talented artist, and he would be lucky to own one of your paintings. This is an extraordinary gift, and how often do those come along? Don't let your pride get in the way this time.

We could use the money. So, do we have a deal? All right, Edward, that sounds fair. Yes, we have a deal. Mabel and the shopkeeper both reached out and shook each other's hands. The shopkeeper packaged the brushes and handed them to Mabel, who looked delighted. The woman left the store Gitty and traveled back to the family home. I'm in disbelief that you got a free set of brushes. I know! I'm so glad we stumbled across that store.

The ladies returned home to spend the rest of a day finishing their chores. In the following weeks, Mabel kept her word to the shopkeeper. She painted Rosalie, the little child who lived across the way. Rosalie had long blonde hair. Each strand looked like spun gold. It curled at the bottom, and she had gorgeous green eyes that resembled emeralds. She painted her with a big smile, picking flowers in a field of wild midnight blue daisies in a farmhouse in the distance,

with a docile pond to the left. Stunning geese surrounded it. These were all things that Rosalie suggested to be in her painting. She loved animals and swimming in the pond in the summer. Mabel used vibrant colors that looked like they were jumping off the canvas. Mabel couldn't believe how well her painting had turned out and knew it had to be the high-quality brushes she had received. Thank you, Mabel, for painting thee.

Thank you for being so polite and for being so patient. Edward is going to love it. Let's get our coats and I'll walk you home. Mabel took Rosalie home and headed back through the woods with the framed painting. She had delicately wrapped it in the muslin and put a ribbon with a bow on top. When she finally arrived at the snarred and sinister-looking tree, mysteriously she did not see the shop at all. All that appeared to be there was miles of forest.

She was excited to pay off her debt and to see what the shopkeeper thought of her artwork. You have to be kidding me. I swear the shop was right over there. Maybe this isn't the treaty I thought it was. I mean, buildings don't randomly disappear after a couple of weeks. Mabel continued through the forest till she made it into town. There was no sign of a store she in Adelaide had visited a few weeks past. She asked a few people in town if they knew what had come of Edward's supplies and hobbies.

And they had yet to learn, in fact, the most peculiar part was that they had never even heard. of the establishment. She thought it odd and would have thought she had dreamt it, but she and Adelaide had been there, and they couldn't have shared the same delusion, could they? Adelaide, the strangest thing happened. I went into the woods today to pay off my debt, to the shopkeeper, and the whole store was gone. It vanished into thin air as if it was never there at all. On the subject of vanishing, I have dreadful news. What is it? Is it, Father? Is he okay? It isn't, Father. It appears as though Rose is. Rosalie has gone missing.

What? How? Her parents went to her room this morning, and she was gone. Disappeared without a trace. For what do they think it was? They aren't sure, but I fear something horrible has happened to her. They have a search party going out this afternoon. Let's go with and see if we can be of any service. Mabel held the portrait of Rosalie a little tighter in her arms.

She carefully unwrapped the muslin to look at the sweet child again. When she looked closer, she realized that the smell she'd painted on Rosalie had turned into a frown. A feeling of dread washed over her, and she dropped the painting on the floor. Adelaide picked it up and handed it back to Mabel. Here you go. You need to be careful with it or the frame will break. Are you okay? What's wrong? Did you do this? Do what? You're starting to scare me.

Did you paint over Rosalie's face? Of course not. What do you even mean? When I painted this portrait, Rosalie had a bright, beaming smile. And now she has a sad look on her face, almost vacant. Do you think Clementine did this as a joke? I don't think so. Why would she? How could someone be so cruel?

When Clementine and their mom got home, they confirmed that her sister had nothing to do with Rosalie's altered expression. They suspected it might have been some unruly boys that come in to be tutored by Susan. She would often help the neighbour children of the wealthy with reading a math to earn some extra income. It was assumed that one of them had been the culprit. Mabel packed up her art supplies the following morning and headed out to paint the doctor at his newly opened practice. He was very wealthy and beloved by the town. He thought a portrait of himself at the office would be lovely.

Mabel was happy to help, and it was known that he paid very well. Thank you for spending your Sunday with me. Oh, of course, I am all. honored. What would you like painted in the background? I would love if you got my medicine jars on the shelf. Great. I can do that. Don't make me look goofy, all right? I won't. I will do the outline and then finish the rest at home.

It takes me a few weeks to complete a painting. Well, that is quite all right. I'm in no rush. You take your time. Rome wasn't built in a day now, was it? I suppose it wasn't. Mabel meticulously sketched the outline on the canvas, which took a good part of a day. Mabel was a perfectionist and took pride in her work. When she was done, the doctor paid her the most she had ever gotten for a painting. Here, this is for the deposit, and I'll pay you the balance when the piece is finished.

Thank you, Dr. Daniels. You are very generous. Think nothing of it. And you can call me Jacob. Mabel packed up her art supplies and headed back home. This is a message from the customer service department at the Antiquarium. We're sorry you're having trouble. The chaos magic encoded within this audio file has detected excessive levels of transference from your subconscious. Please hold and we will resume your sacrament momentarily.

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Mabel, Adelaide and I were thinking that since Mommy's birthday is coming up in a few weeks, so we could all make her something special. You could do a portrait of the family. I have a beautiful photograph of us all that you can draw inspiration from. I'm writing her a piece on the piano, and Adelaide is writing her a story. What a splendid idea you both had. Dr. Daniel said he was in no rush for his piece. Now I can work on both simultaneously.

Any word on Rosalie? No, I'm afraid not. I'm going to go and fix the expression on her face and make it as it was. Mabel headed upstairs and grabbed the canvas. She was in disbelief at what she'd seen. Rosalie was no longer picking flowers. in the field. She was inside the farmhouse looking out the window. She had a saddened look and tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. She looked slightly taller and a bit older. The field of

midnight blue daisers had all wilted and overgrown weeds had appeared. She was livid that someone had been so disrespectful to her art again. She asked her mother if anyone had been to the home for tutoring, but not a soul had been by. Her heart started to race and she had this horrible feeling in her stomach. She thought, how could this be? A fear turned to anger. She pulled out her brushes and painted over the changes that had been made to the art. She worked into the morning to turn the girl's sadness into joy and to bring the beautiful field of daisies back to life. When she awoke in the morning, she wiped the sleep on the corner of her eyes. She noticed that her painting wasn't as she had left it. Rosalie had aged over a decade. Her face looked

Distorted with a sinister smile. She held a dead, bleeding goose by its neck in her left hand. Mabel wondered if she was still dreaming. She rubbed her eyes again and took another look at the painting. She was horrified by what she saw. She was puzzled also as to how this was happening. She ran downstairs with tears streaming down her face looking for her mother for solace and guidance. She tore the two neighborhood boys,

packing their school supplies when she arrived at the foot of the stairs. Bram, the older brother, smiled at Mabel and mischievously winked at her as he put the last of his papers in his back. Mabel was seaving with anger. She pushed the painting before Bram's face. Bram examined it and looked frightened by the image. Interesting painting, Mabel. You think me a fool, do you?

Huh? I don't think you a fool. It's a rather odd painting. I know you did this and I will prove it. Did what? What if I done to upset you? That's enough, Mabel. She has fallen ill. My apologies, Bram.

I have not. He changed it. I know he did. Just look at his fingers. Susan apologized to Bram for Mabel's behavior and sent him and his brother home. She gave them freshly baked muffins for the walk. Have you lost your mind, Mabel? What was that? Why, of course not. This is Bram's fault. He's the one you should be questioning. I spent the better part of the night correcting my painting and returning it to its original state. When I awoke, I noticed that the picture had changed. form again to this dreadful state.

That boy had red stains all over his fingers. He must have snuck into my room and painted this horrific image while I was sleeping. He had those stains because he was helping Clementine paint a bowl of apples. She wanted to surprise you with it when it was done. He is a very kind and gracious boy. He was at the working table the entire time. How could he have managed to have anything to do with this? Are you feeling okay?

Well, I suppose. I don't know who's defacing my property. It keeps happening, and I know I'm not imagining it. Someone or something is doing this. Many people are coming in and out of this house for studies. It must be one of them. I have to find this wretched person. I know it, honey.

I will keep a watchful eye on anyone who enters this house. I want you to take it easy. You carry such a burden on your shoulders for this family, and that's not your job, Mabel. You take some time for yourself and do something, you enjoy. Don't worry about the finances. I have that taken care of. I rented the basement to a sweet couple passing through town. Leave that painting alone. I believe dear Rosalind's disappearance is taking up residence in the corners of your mind. Please lay that painting to rest. The shopkeeper

closed up his shop and gave you a lovely gift. I believe he wanted nothing in return but to see you smile. Thank you, Mommy. You always know what to say. Later that night, Mabel took her mother's advice and continued to work on the family portrait. Susan's words danced in her mind and fuelled her love of art and painting. She spent the next few weeks finishing the family's picture and Dr. Daniel's piece for his office. She wrapped his up in muslin and dressed it in a chocolate brown silk bow. The family portrait was made up of rich colours and captured the warmth of each family member. She painted them at their home in the parlour.

The grand fireplace roared in the background, casting a beautiful glow on the Moore family. Susan's birthday had arrived. Mabel presented her mother with the gorgeous creation, and their mother was filled with gratitude and love. They hung the picture above the mantle over the crackling fireplace for all to admire. You have outdone yourself with this one, Mabel.

Father will be speechless when he returns home to see it. You are too kind. The story you wrote was a little bit. incredible. You should submit it to one of the papers. I always see advertisements looking for authors to submit their short stories. I might be worthy of submission if I was a man. You are worthy. It's a shame society doesn't see it that way. Shame on society for very many things. Agreed. So, how do you like your new fancy paint brushes? Why yes, they are rather fancy. I love them. I have used them on all my new paintings. You can tell the difference between quality brushes versus basic

brushes, I can paint the minor details with them. Like when I painted the anthers inside the daisies on my portrait of Rosalie, I couldn't have done that with my old set. I feel powerful when I'm using them. It's almost as if something greater than myself has been painting these pieces lately. Does that sound odd? It sounds like you're being modest and don't believe you're capable of having such talent, which isn't true. God, I'm lucky to have you as a sister. As am I. I hope they locate Rosalie. Have you heard anything new? I haven't. It's been a while, which probably isn't a good sign.

I keep holding out hope and praying she will be found safe and sound. Me too. Come on, let's get back to the party. I smell cakes and dainties. The more women continued to celebrate the matriarch of the family. Laughter hung in the air and Clementine's piano composition echoed throughout the home. This was the happiest they ever would be. The next afternoon, Adelaide was dust.

the mantle when she noticed that her father's arm was missing from the painting. His joyful-looking face had turned into a look of shock and pain. She ran into the kitchen to tell Mabel, but she found her mother sobbing of a table of a letter in her hand. What is it, mother? What's the matter? I received a telegram that your father has been in an accident. He has lost his left arm, and they might have to amputate his leg. They don't know if he's going to make it. Mommy, that is such horrible news. Poor father. Is there anything I can do to help? I have a horse and carriage coming in an hour

to take me to the infirmary where your father resides. I need you and Mabel to take care of Clementine and the home. I will be back in a few weeks. Of course. We will. Please send father our good wishes. Be careful, Mommy. Thank you, my precious Adelaide.

When Mabel returned home, Adelaide told her what happened to her father and what had come of him in the family painting. When they looked at the pieces time, the patriarch was missing his leg and arm. His face was caked with his crimson red blood. The less side of it had chunks of flesh gone, and half of his skull was cracked and exposed. His eyeball rested loosely in the socket. Adelaide ran upstairs and flipped over the painting of Rosalie. She hadn't glanced it in a few weeks and was absolutely shocked.

Rosalie had grown old, and her body was floating in the pond. was bloated. Worms and crows were eating away her rotting flesh. The crocodile sat at the other end of the pond, looking toward Rosalie's body. She frantically unwrapped Dr. Daniel's portrait and was horrified. A black shadow figure stood behind the doctor, piercing the skin of his neck with a sharp silver dagger. Blood was oozing out of the wounds and turning the doctor's cream sweater and ugly shade of red. Mabel picked up the brushes, put them in a bag, and headed through the forest, searching for the shop that once stood before her. She arrived at this snarled and dark-looking tree

and saw Edward's supplies and hobbies in the distance. She ran as fast as she could to the shop and feverishly opened the door. Why, you seem to be in a rush. Hello, welcome to Edward's supplies and hobbies, and I am Edward. What can I help you with today? Don't you remember?

We have met once before you. You gave me these paintbrushes. That's right. How do you learn? like them. They are beautiful, aren't they? Beautiful. Evil is more like it. Evil? I don't know what you're talking about, my lady. I think you do. Tell me where you got those paintbrushes from. The truth this time. I did tell you the truth. They came in from a famous painter. The most interesting thing about him is that he wasn't renowned for being a painter as I

led you to believe. He was famous for murder. He used the blood of those he slayed to make the most interesting paint colors. His rouge palette was to die for. Those brushes I gifted you were the ones he used in his most infamous creations. You lied to me. I trusted you. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to accept gifts from strangers? Well, let this be a lesson for you. Everything comes at a price.

Nothing in life is free. And just so you know, this shop accepts no refunds or exchanges. You're a monster. Don't forget those brushes and have a wonderful day. Mabel grabbed a set of brushes from the shop counter, tossed them in her bag and headed home. Returning, she entered the parlor with trepidation before looking at the family portrait. She took a deep breath and looked up.

She was aghast by the image. Her mother was lying on a bed of freshly fallen snow, the black carriage atop of her body. The left wheel had severed the top half from the bottom half. The large wooden wheel rested in her chest cavity, with her inside of the tubing. A small intestine was stuck into the spoke. A puddle of blood outlined her cold dead corpse.

Mabel scanned her art. Her eyes were drawn to her. the other side. To find that the only thing that reminded her of her father was his head. All the skin had dripped off, and his cobalt blue eyes stared straight at her. His muscles and tissues stayed intact and clung to his skull. He had a smile on his face, and his salt and pepper hair remained. In the corner, her sister Clementine hung from a tree outside the family home. She closed her eyes, heard the rope drop, and felt the light air movement as the body swung from side to side. She located her sister Adelaide in the picture.

She was going through a stained glass window from the second story. Shards of glass pierced her delicate thin skin. Blood covered her dress. Deep gash was close to her heart with a big piece of glass sticking out. Looking at herself in the painting, she screamed at what she saw. She was lying in a ditch of dirt deep underneath the ground. Her whole body was submerged, and her arms were raised trying to escape her demise. She saw the dark figure that appeared in Dr. Daniels' painting.

It was in the distance pointing at the family. Mabel ran upstairs. To look at the picture of Dr. Daniels in his office to compare the figures, she grabbed the frame and was astonished by what appeared before her. All that was left was the background of the painting. The doctor had disappeared entirely. She looked at the portrait of Rosalie, and the canvas was blank. It looked brand new.

She was in disbelief. She caught a glance of her hands when she put it down. Her hands were caked in dirt. Her nails had sawed packed beneath them. Her heart started beating fast. Why? How do I make this stop? She tried breaking the frame and canvas of the family portrait,

but she started to feel weak. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw dirt expelling from her paws. She tried washing the filth from her hands, but it kept her appearing. She lay down on the fainting couch and started coughing aggressively. She began choking as her mouth filled with soil. Large amounts of dark brown clay expelled from her mouth, her lungs filled with layers of dust and pieces of rich, earthy dirt. She started wheezing as it became increasingly difficult for her to take a breath.

The weight of the soil punched her lungs, starving her of oxygen and life. She took one last look of a damaged painting, and her eyes felt heavy. She couldn't fight the desire to shut them. It was darkness. Thank you for your patronage. Hope you enjoyed your new relic as much as I've enjoyed passing along its sordid history. It does come with our usual warning, however. Absolutely no refunds.

No exchanges. and we won't be held liable for anything that may or may not occur while the object is in your possession. Oh, you think just because you're only listening to my voice that you have nothing to be concerned about? Let me assure you that your visit to the antiquarium, whether in the flesh or in your mind's eye is most certainly not in vain. You are the architect of this place. I must say you've done a hell of a job. Even the way you have given me a face

and carved out the most minute details of my person in that cerebrum of yours is quite impressive indeed. Therefore, the items you procure within these walls, even on a metaphysical level, are very, very, very, Real, and are now and forever part of your subconscious. All part of our standard bill of sale, really?

Till next time, we'll be waiting for you whenever you close your eyes, in the space between sleep and dream. During regular business hours, of course, or by appointment, only for you. Our best customer. You have a good night now. Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings, Lot Zero-Zer4, The Painting, written by Lauren Shand, narrated by Lauren Clare, featuring Rebecca Kennedy as Mabel, Addison Peacock as Adelaide,

Jade Shand as Rosalie, Everidge Shand as Brom, Scarlet Shand as Clementine, Maria McCann as Susan. Trevor Shand as Dr. Daniel, Stephen Knowles, as the shopkeeper, and the antique dealer. Engineering production and sound design by Lauren Shand. The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings is created and curated by Trevor and Lauren Shand. Theme music by the Newton Brothers. Follow us on Instagram and Twitter at Antiquarium Pod. Call the Antiquarium at 646-481-7197.