The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings - Lot 027 : AFTERLIFE

Episode Date: January 12, 2024

An audio technician joins a group of scientists to decipher a transmission from an extraordinary object.Written by S.G.WoodhouseTrevor Shand as Mr.MeltranDee Quintero as ElizabethMark Redfield as Daren DalonFeaturing Stephen Knowles as the Antique DealerTheme music by The Newton BrothersAdditional music by:CO.AG ([e-mail])Dark Horror Music by Vivek AbhishekGet Out by Vivek AbhishekApocalypse by Vivek AbhishekCalling The Dead by Vivek Abhishekhttps://www.youtube.com/@VIVEKABHISHEKCollapse by MyuuCornered by Myuuhttps://www.youtube.com/@myuuRight Behind You by Kevin Macleodhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRdpJq6nmWw Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

My dear friend, I was hoping you'd stop in today. Reason being, something very interesting fell in my lap just yesterday evening, and I reckon it is right up your alley. Extraordinary, isn't it? Your guess is as good as mine as to exactly how it works. It looks like a laptop. yet it isn't one as far as I can tell. Can't get it to open or anything.

It has what appears to be a large, round, circular speaker in the center. I get the feeling that I shouldn't be keeping it around the shop for much longer. Its secrets seem to be much more bizarre than what any of us might be ready for. Let's tune this station in to a program called we found a way to listen to the afterlife, and what we heard terrified us. Before we begin, what are your thoughts on secret societies and things of that nature? As a devoted visitor, you might be interested in our small collective of the shop's most discerning guests. It goes by the Obsidian Covenant.

You'll not only become part of the store's inner circle, but you'll get my undivided attention each week with no interruptions during my recounts. And every month, I'll share with you the tales of a couple of the items from my private collection. Hell, I may even display your name here at the shop. Go to theobsidian covenant.com for more. Now where was I?

Oh yes. Welcome to the antiquarium of sinister happenings and odd goings on. I was working as an audio technician at the time. I did odd jobs for films, music artists, and even a few well-known podcasts. When I was approached by a company specializing in R&D, I initially thought they made a mistake. Their email was a rather mystique. Mysterious.

Looking for an experienced audio technician for one of our projects. We've listened to your samples and your sound processing skills in particular seem to be exactly what we're looking for. Your participation will be remunerated up to $3,000 for three days of work. If you're interested, please reply within 48 hours. As the nature of this project is highly confidential, no information will be passed on to you about the nature of this project before you sign an NDA. To avoid wasting my time with a hoax, I asked for a face-to-face meeting at their company headquarters. To my surprise, they immediately agreed. And the next day, I had an appointment at their premises at 9 a.m.

I announced myself a reception, and a woman in a white lab coat who introduced herself as Elizabeth invited me to accompany her to her office. After signing the NDA and my contract, she led me through a maze of corridors to where I would be working. You'll soon understand why we had you sign a confidentiality agreement. The research we do here is highly confidential and we've already made a major discovery that just needs

one last push. Well, you've definitely got my interest. I hope I can be of some sort of help, I said. It's still in the dark about the mission I was about to be given. We arrived in a spacious room already occupied by another man, also wearing a white

lab coat and who I assumed to be her superior by the authoritative look in his eyes and his advanced age. Mr. Maltren, I presume. Darren Dalyan, chief scientist. Delighted to have you with us. Please, sit down. I sat down opposite down at a table that was empty except for a strange object, whose origin and function I couldn't account for.

Mr. Maltren, I'm not going to beat around the bush. You're going to be involved in the most important project of your life for the next three days. You see this device. This device is what I've been working on for the last 20 years of my life. You see, I've always been certain that there was life after death. And this device, I'm convinced, is what will enable me to prove it. I inspected the object more closely. At first glance, it didn't look like much.

About the size of a laptop, just under 12 inches high. It was entirely black, and only a circle, like a loudspeaker in the center, of the upwardly exposed face was visible. It was connected to a portable keyboard that sat right in front of the scientist. Can't reveal precisely how it works, but to put it simply, this device allows us to listen to frequencies that, until now, had never been reached. Frequencies that we are certain correspond to the beyond. You'll understand the problem we're facing.

Pressing a key on the keyboard in front of her and looking at a screen I assumed was on the other side of the device. Instantly, a sound from elsewhere pierced my eardrums. The sound was unmistakably high-pitched and seemed static, despite the fact that I had had the impression of hearing pitch variations without being able to distinguish them. Elizabeth finally cut the sound of the grimace after pressing a few keys. Mr. Maltren, we're not asking you to believe us about our discovery. All we're asking is that you work hard to analyze and filter the sound and

and turn it into something usable. I was circumspect, but they both seemed very, very serious. So, you really think there's something in that sound. What do you think it is? A silence fell. Elizabeth looked at her superior out of the corner of her eye without intervening. Yes, Mr. Maltren. We think there is something in the sound, as you say.

Your work begins today, and Elizabeth will show you the equipment at your disposal. And with that, I set to work. I was allowed to use all the equipment in the lap, computers and all, including the device in question. But I couldn't take anything home or work from home. Everything had to be done on site and every second had to be recorded by cameras and microphones. I recorded a sample of the sound and started by trying to filter it.

I'd already worked on sound that was cut, corrupted, of poor quality or whatever, and I used every technique I knew to try to clean this up. I spent the entirety of the first day on it, to no avail. The second day, I continued in this direction, not knowing what else to do. My attempts became more and more desperate. I honestly couldn't see how they expected me to get anything out of that uniform, shrill sound. I decided to concentrate on my ears. and listen to the sound produced by the device over and over again.

There was definitely something strange about it. I don't know how to explain it, but the more I listened to it, the more my breathing quickened, as did my heart. And part of my brain screamed at me to end it, or run away, so much so that I was beginning to fear, continuing to listen to it. After all, it was supposed to be a sound from beyond, according to them. Although, I wondered if this scientist hadn't just gone mad, trying to find an answer to his obsession.

The second day ended like the first. I couldn't sleep. The sound kept echoing in my head. It was as if, by listening to it over and over again, it had become imprinted on me. I had the impression of discovering new facets, new variations. It was as if the sound was still happening. But in my head, I turned over in bed for the 15th time and stared at the ceiling. And the vision that came to me stunned me.

At first I thought I was imagining shapes moving because of the darkness. But like the sound, the more I concentrated on what I was seeing, the and dozens of faces. Their horrified expressions distorting their features as they blended into the ceiling and seemed to be trying to break out to extricate themselves from this

solid matter. As the faces tried to push against the darkness to get out, I could hear the sound in my ears getting louder and louder, sharper and sharper. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it would suddenly stop. I could hardly breathe. And for some unknown reason, I was certain

that if they reached me, they would Take me with them. With that thought, I jumped out of bed and in two steps reached the light switch in my room and looked up. And the sound, though persistent, was a distant echo in my... I do apologize, but a delivery just arrived here at the shop and I need to sign for it. Sit tight. And I'll be back quicker than a rat up a drain pipe. Wasn't so bad, was it?

Let's glide back into this nightmare. Shall we? On the third and last day, I sat down at my workstation with dark circles under my eyes. I'd spent the rest of the night on my feet trying to think of a solution. The device again. And after a moment's hesitation, my instinct screaming at me not to press the key, I turned sound so unique, flat and endless, I remember. the first impression I'd had when I heard it for the very first time, missing something behind the uniform appearance of the sound.

What if there were so many sounds that the mush coming out of them made them impossible to discern? I stood in front of my computer and spent the rest of the day isolating and slowing down the sound. It was 7 p.m. and I was finally ready to do a test. At the same time, Elizabeth entered the room. The time you were given is almost at zero. I think I found the solution. Are you ready? Her eyes widened, and she sat down on a chair next to me in silence.

I started the modified recording. I never imagined I'd hear what I heard. A number of heart-rending cries from an infinite number of people, men and women of all ages. Elizabeth's face turned pale. Her gaze locked with mine, both her hands trembling slightly on her frail legs. The screams continued to fill the room,

each passing second seeming to increase the pressure. Um, my superior is going to want to hear this and apply it directly to a device to get a, a real time of translation. Can you do that? She seemed terrified, but like me, she didn't really have a choice. Sure, Elizabeth, I should be able to do it in like 10 minutes.

Just give me a little time to grab something to eat and drink in the cafeteria. I'll bring something back for you too. Despite the fact that the old chief scientist had heard the modified recording, he still asked me, as Elizabeth had planned, to apply the filter to the live sound. And when the device came on, indeed, we... heard again, the screams of what we assumed to be human beings. And it wasn't the same sounds over and over again. It sounded like it was constantly changing. It was as if the sound itself

was alive. The two scientists chatted quietly at the other end of the room and finally came back to me to congratulate me on my work. They both looked satisfied. But I sensed they were still in shock at the implications of all this. I told them that to finish, I just needed a little more time to refine the filtering and write down the method for them to follow once I'd gone. I spent the rest of the night working, and after a while, I realized that it was past midnight. I was just finishing totting at my desk when suddenly the shouting stopped. That's when I realized that the device had been on all this time.

I couldn't believe it. But I had to believe it, because now it wasn't screams I was hearing, but the slow breathing and exhaling of someone. I said something in a language I didn't know, but which I assumed was something close to Latin. I switched the machine off and on again once, twice, ten times, only a deafening silence, and my jerky breathing filled the room. I explained what had happened before leaving. Fortunately for me, as it was all recorded, I had proof that I had nothing to reproach myself for, and they had a clear record of what the voice had said.

I spent weeks trying to make sense of the sentence myself, but the more time passed, the more the words escape me somehow. After a while, I simply got on with my life, but the experience left an indebted. indelible mark on me. Even today, in the silence of the night, I sometimes feel as if I can hear a high-pitched tone inside me. And I know that if I concentrate just a little bit on it,

I'll hear again the horrific screams of that endless human tide. Thank you for your patronage. Hope you enjoyed your new revel. 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.

If you've got an artifact with mysterious properties, perhaps it's accompanied by a history of bizarre and dissonation. disturbing circumstances. Maybe you'd be interested in dropping it and its story by the shop to share with other customers. Please reach out to Antiquarium Shop at gmail.com. A member of our team will be in touch. 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. The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings, Lot 027, Afterlife, written by S.G. Woodhouse, featuring Trevor Shand as Mr. Maltren, De Quintero as Elizabeth. Mark Redfield as Darren Dalyne, featuring Stephen Knowles as the antique dealer. and sound design by Trevor Shand. Theme music by the Newton Brothers. Additional music by Vivek Abyshech, Kevin McLeod, Mew, and Coag.

The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings is created and curated by Trevor and Lauren Shand. Follow us on Instagram and Twitter at Antiquarium Pod. Call the Antiquarium at 646-481-7197.