The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings - Lot 057 : The Funeral : Finale (A Trilogy In Two Parts)

Episode Date: September 8, 2024

Another secret is revealed in the photo's of a young man's funeral...Written by LikeyedidStarring Melissa Medina as EmmaRomy Evans as MotherTrevor Shand as LiamConan Freeman as Dadhttps://www.reddit.com/r/Likeeyedid/comments/1en4xzb/the_funeral_final/Featuring Stephen Knowles as The Antique DealerTheme music by The Newton BrothersAdditional music byCO.AG ([e-mail])Vivek AbhishekSUBSCRIBE us on YOUTUBE: https://bit.ly/3qumnPHFollow on Facebook : https://bit.ly/33RWRtPFollow on Instagram : https://bit.ly/2ImU2JV Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Hello? Just give me one second and I'll be right there. Oh, ha ha, ha, it's you. Well, you should have said so. Remember that the most valuable antiques are dear old friends. H. Jackson Brown Jr. He compiled over 500 nuggets of fatherly advice in what he called Life's Little Instruction Book. Number 144 was to take someone bowling.

Never been much of a fan of the game myself, but I suppose it's a nice gesture. Philosophies, morals, beliefs are passed down through a family like a broken face on the floor. Even when you do your best job at sweeping the glass, you somehow always end up with some in your feet. Emma and Liam are trying their best to pick up the pieces. Maybe the answer to their mystery lies, In this dagger, I present to you today. Look at that. Polished to a mirror finish.

Brasshild engraved with what looks like hundreds of tiny sigils. You can feel the indents when you hold it. Ah. You see? Ha, ha, ha. Feels nice, don't it? I think it's time for a bit of a family reunion. This is the funeral.

Part 3. Before we begin, I want to point out some of the customers whose names have been etched in brass on this beautiful plaque I had made above the front desk. These are some of the members of the inner circle of the antiquarium. We go by the Obsidian Covenant. Recent initiates include Just Your Average Rees, Ash and Chase, Wes Weatherington, scary nostalgia, Tim Nacey, Morgan Kirkwood, Zachary Eckert, Jennifer D, and Onix Gentorum. We are ever appreciative of your devotion to The Order. Go to the Obsidiancovenant.com to receive the sacrament.

Now, where were we? Oh yes Welcome To the Antiquarium of sinister happenings And odd goings on I understand that my descriptions of the last day were very This is worn into this world And thrown in with these strangers who call you family

But you have no choice in who they are Or what they're like You're simply supposed to accept that this is life That you can trust them As a child you have to believe that because what else can you do? You don't understand the world yet. I've always felt grateful for the family I had. Two loving parents and a sister who would always be there for me no matter what happened. But who you become depends on more than your closest relatives, more than the people

who raised you. It's years and years of genetics and generational trauma that make us what we are, who we are. Our surroundings can only do so much. There is this whole other area that we have absolutely no influence on because it was all decided before we were even born. And I, for one, was born into a total shit show. After my sister ran away the night before, because she was too scared to be in the same house as me, my mind kept spiraling.

My own thoughts were the one thing I believed I could always trust. I think of myself as a very reflective person, but the events of the past days, if there really is anything I can truly trust. About the photos I received picturing my funeral were a sick game someone was playing, and my sister was the one who had to suffer from the aftermath of my paranoia. Now I've started to understand that the photos were just a means to set something in motion that neither of us ever had a chance to predict the decision of which sibling. I heard the keys turn in the front door just before noon.

The sight of me on the floor with dozens of books and even more newspapers and prints I'd made at the library must have appeared insane. But Emma didn't show any reaction to that on her face. She appeared rather curious as she slowly walked up to where I was sitting. Her eyes were bloodshot. Big creases had formed underneath them. Emma spoke before I had a chance to say anything, which was well enough because I had no idea. What might have come out of my mouth at this point?

I'm sorry I left you alone. She muttered, taking a few steps closer while navigating to the mess of documents I'd made on the ground. I'm sorry, too. I started, but I didn't know what to say. What could I apologize for when I didn't even understand what was happening? Are you yourself again? I've never stopped being myself, M. I haven't no idea what you're imagining.

I tried to keep the sharp tone hidden, but it still found a way out. Something inside of me kept screaming that she was tricking me, but I decided to shove that thought down. Even after I read about all the other sons and our family who had died at my age, there had to be another explanation, and I would do anything to find it. So I started showing her the things that I'd found. Our family tree, death notes, obituaries, newspaper articles. Anything I was able to find online or at the library.

Have you found the origin? I mean, it must have started somewhere, right? I shook my head. Do you think there's a history of mental illness in our family? Well, the same illness that makes you murder your sibling? They were all murdered? Well, no. All we know is that they died.

The cases were all different. Accidents, food poisoning, suicide. On some, I found no information at all. but, you know, these things can be faked. I don't know what it is. All I know is that I don't want anything to happen. She stayed silent for a moment. We're not going to hurt each other, Liam.

She gently put her hand on top of mine and I squeezed it. But even in that moment, I felt as if I saw a spark of evil in her eye. I shook the feeling off and continued. There's something else that's kind of odd. All the siblings who died were male. But then again, I think there's still a lot I wasn't able to trace down. I suppose a lot of the women changed their surnames after getting married, but... Mom kept her maiden name.

Do you think she knows about all this? I don't know. But I'd really like to know what happened between her and Ben. Emma was flicking through the different papers when another thought popped into my head. Em, can you describe that dream to me? In full detail, please. you can remember. I'd rather not.

I gave her a pleading look, and she finally gave in. What she described sounded exactly like the things I'd seen in the photo. I needed myself for deleting them. My sister was creative, but I doubted that she could create photographs from memory, and the faces, the bodies, and all the details were far too realistic to have been made with AI. Then you'll understand that I'm suspicious of some photos I never seen. saw. I mean, why on earth would you delete them? I don't know, man. She freaked out. It wasn't a very

pleasant sight, you know. Well, don't you have a backup? On a cloud or in the bin? I raised an eyebrow when she rolled her eyes. God, Liam, you're not that old. Give me your phone. Emma was playing around on my phone for at least an hour. And when I saw her face dropping and her skin turning even paler than it was, I knew she'd managed to restore them. That could you like my dream. This is impossible. I told you. I tried to grab the phone from her hands, but she held on tight. Did you try calling the number that sent them? No, I blocked it. Of course you did. Wait, who's that? That woman standing behind me. She zoomed into the face of a woman I hadn't noticed before. When I looked at that particular photo, I was too distracted by Emma and the rabbit.

The woman resembled her mother, but her hair was slick and much longer. almost going up to her hip. Her long dress was black, but most of her body was hidden behind Emma. Just like my sister, she was looking directly into the camera. But she didn't look as if she was grieving. It appeared more as if she was smirking.

I think it's time we call the number. Not disconnected. Or maybe the person can't pick up because it's you, I thought to myself. Just as I was about to. to hang up. The ring ceased, but he answered. Both stared at each other in silence. We wouldn't speak until we heard the person on the other end. There was a crackling sound. Like from a fire, a woman started singing. In the language I didn't recognize, I believed that Emma realized

at the same second whose voice we were hearing, it had picked up right away. Liam, how's it going? He asked without a care in the world. Dad, where's mom? Didn't she tell you? She's on her way home. Work emergency. She was in such a hurry that she even forgot her. My head was spinning. First my sister, now my mother,

and my father didn't seem to have any idea what was going on. Who in my family could I still trust? And what do we have if we don't have trust? Pardon the interruption. I just remembered. I had a quick phone call to make myself with a, uh, um, supplier. Make yourself at home, and I'll be right back. The message.

Sorry about that. I appreciate your patience. Let's join our family drama with the Millers already in progress. Shall we? When my family could I still trust? As the day was slowly coming to an end, I realized that we hadn't eaten anything and that our fridge was empty. so I offered to go to the store.

We could have ordered something, but I needed an excuse to get out of the house for a while to clear my head and make sure it wouldn't spin out of control again, especially as the evening was nearing and the last night had been a catastrophe. When I got back home, all the lights in the house

heard the soft sound and made my way through the door toward the living room. My heart skipped a beat when I beheld that what was in front of my mother was sitting on the floor. clutching a photo album to her chest. Tears were streaming down her face as she was gently rocking back and forth. My sister was sitting next to her.

Her arms wrapped around our mother. It's all happening again. I dropped the grocery bags on the ground and knelt down next to my mother. We can't stop it. You need to tell him what you told you. My mother wiped away the tears from her face, but kept holding that album. It all started when I was about 20. I had a brother, an older brother who I loved deeply.

But then one day, he changed. It was after he received a newspaper article. It was an article describing how he'd taken his own life. Except when he searched in older newspapers, couldn't find it anywhere. The one he had was the only version. Slowly but surely it drove him insane. At first I, I didn't understand why, but then I realized it wasn't just about the fake note. He was starting to think about his death non-stop.

It got worse each day and finally he started suspecting me. He thought that I plotted his death. He got completely out of control and started. had threatening me and calling me a witch. One night I found him hovering over my bed with a dagger, held to my throat, already drawing blood. I screamed and your grandfather found us. He sent him away to an institution. I was heartbroken.

But even after he was gone, it wouldn't stop. I received letters almost daily threatening my life. How he sent them, I have no idea. For months, I was being. terrorized. I couldn't sleep anymore. I couldn't eat properly. And then he finally freed me by taking his own life. It was the happiest day of mine. She tightened her grip on my hand, her nails digging into my flesh, her mouth open to a wide smile. I'm saying that Emma can be free as well. She just has to want it enough. I looked over at my sister, but she wouldn't mean

my eyes. You're hurting me. We can make it look like a suicide. Or self-defense, your choice, sweetheart. Emma still wouldn't look up. You know there is no other way. He won't stop until you are the one under the ground. Finally, Emma's eyes met mine.

I want to do it myself. My mother gave her a sweet smile and opened the photo album. Hidden inside was a dagger. She pulled out and handed to my sister. But she was holding me tight with a strength that he was. know she had. With strength she shouldn't have, it was at that moment that I knew

that they would do anything to make sure I wasn't leaving this house alive. She used her other arm to push my chest to the ground, and before I could free myself, her knee was already digging into me. Emma, no, please, Mom. I started pleading, but their determined looks did not falter. With the dagger in hand, my sister moved closer. She started gently scraping it over my face,

going down to my throat. happened too quickly for me to understand. Emma had turned the dagger around and slammed it right into the chest of our mother. My mother's eyes was wide. She put a hand to her chest where black blood was staining her white blouse, and then she

started laughing. Mother, it was to influence you both. It was to plant the seed of doubt. Why don't you sit with that for a while? Just know. And when you finally decide it's time for his death.

My chest lifted. I blinked a few times before I was sure that she had disappeared. It wasn't possible, but none of the occurrences of the last day were. My breaths came in shallow gasps, and I was on the brink of passing out. When Emma fell down to her knees beside me, she wrapped her arms around me, her entire body shivering. I'm not sure how long we sat there holding on to each. other. I felt like screaming. Sure if I can trust my own mind anymore and traced her finger down the ground, pointing the black liquid that was now staining it in my direction. What? When you were gone,

I found something online, a site where you can read sorts of stories about old witch trials and one of them happened to be in this town. Part of it was a case where a brother accused his own sister of being a witch. She was burned alive. I was just about to call you when Mom suddenly appeared and she was so distraught and told me that story about her brother.

I think that part must have been true. But as she repeated her story, I was watching her more closely and Mom has a tattoo on her wrist. She didn't. She wrapped her arms around her body. Suddenly she appeared so tiny that I couldn't believe that she just slammed a dagger into our mother's chest, even if it wasn't

her real mother. And when she talked about killing you, something in my mind snapped. It was as if I woke in from a trance. I knew she would never say something like that. Mom loves us, both of us. We received a call from my father that evening. Apparently my mother had been at the airport for hours, but she had been at the airport for hours, because of a strike, she never actually boarded the plane. Eventually, she took a cab back to my aunt's

place. Emma and I still aren't sure whether we should talk to them about what happened. My father would never believe us and probably get us institutionalized. My mother, on the other hand, had to know something. Or maybe she'd buried the truth about her brother's death so deep inside that we'd only wake up a long forgotten pain. We ended the most horrific night of our lives by burning the black dress and the rabbit in the garden. To process everything. Which said, I trust my sister with my whole heart.

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. If you've got an artifact with mysterious properties, perhaps it's accompanied by a history of bizarre and 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 057, The Funeral Part 3, written by Like I Did, starring Melissa Medina as Emma, Romy Evans as mother, Trevor Shand as Liam, Conan Freeman as Dad, featuring Stephen Knowles as the antique dealer. Engineering Production and Sound Design by Trevor Shand.

Theme music by The Newton Brothers. Additional music by Coag and Vivek Abyshech. 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.