The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings - Lot 125: The Shortcut

Episode Date: May 18, 2026

The Shortcut From the world of Andre Ovredal’s PASSENGER, in theaters May 22nd Starring Addison Peacock Trevor Shand April Consalo Jade Shand   Unsought Goods **Many thanks for patronizing our curious little establishment through the Rocket Money and Shopify links below. Your continued support helps keep the lamps lit and the shelves full of peculiar treasures. We are most grateful. Rocket Money: http://rocketmoney.com/SINISTER Shopify: https://www.shopify.com/tash Antiquarium shop: https://theantiquarium.myshopify.com Theme music by The Newton Brothers   Additional music by CO.AG ([e-mail])   Clement Panchout   Vivek Abhishek   SUBSCRIBE to them on YOUTUBE: / vivekhsihba   LIKE them on FACEBOOK:  https://rb.gy/nhgn0i Follow them on Spotify/ iTunes/ Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/rxdcjqt Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

130 million people take road trips every year. 15,400 of them are never seen again. Have you heard the story of the passenger that's been circulating online lately? A young couple set out on a van life road trip, but a few nights in, they came across a brutal car accident on the side of the road. I'm not talking about a typical crash, and something about this was off. and there's one detail that keeps coming up. The car they found had three deep scratches carved into the side.

Not dense. Scratches. They stopped. They saw it. And then they left. But here's where things got strange. Not long after, creepy things start happening. They began to feel...

Like they weren't alone in the fan. Like something followed them from that road. People online have started connecting it to something they're calling, the passenger. Supposedly it attaches itself to anyone who encounters it and marks their car with three scratches. And once that happens, it doesn't let go. If these reports are true, this couple didn't just. witness something on that highway.

They carried it with them. From Andre Overdahl, director of autopsy of Jane Doe, comes passenger. Only in theaters May 22nd. Get tickets now. What you're about to experience exists in that world. The shortcut.

The plane had been delayed. It was almost midnight, and I was still an hour from home, somewhere between Franklin and Wellington. I yawned, barely able to keep my eyes open. Faster route available. Turn right in half a mile. Usually I opted to stay on the main roads, but I was so tired.

I flicked on my blinker and turned onto the two-lane road curving off into the woods. The road was desolate, weaving through a patch of thick forest. A crescent moon poked through the intertwining branches. My headlights flashed over a pair of glinting eyes, a fox. maybe, or a raccoon, before it turned and disappeared back into the darkness. I jumped when my phone began to ring. Sorry, I'll be home soon. There was just so much traffic. This is just not your day, huh?

I know. Between the traffic and the plane, it's like three hours later than I thought. I don't know how I'm going to get up for work tomorrow. Call in sick. I might. So... How's a conference? Was it fun? Um, no. Unless you're really into learning about 50 different types of...

Oh, sorry. Mike? Who just texted you? Mike? I just got a weird text from Ellie. It says, so sorry about Audrey. Sorry about what? I don't know. Did you tell your plane was delayed or something? No.

Maybe she feels bad you had to be at this shitty conference all weekend. I guess. Oh, maybe it's an insult. Like, so sorry about Audrey. So sorry you have to be her husband because she just sucks. You're so mean! The forest fell away, revealing a neon red diner sign shining through the fog. Despite the 24-7 sign in the window, the parking lot was completely desolate.

Was that you? Oh, what the f? Yeah, I just got another text. Uh, this one's from Marissa. What is she saying? It's weird, she doesn't really text me. Um, she says, I'm sorry about Audrey. Is there anything I could do to help? My heart began to pound.

Silence sank into the car. I stared out of the trees, twisting and overlapping in the darkness. I glanced at the table. GPS at my icon crawling along the serpentine road in the middle of nowhere. What is she talking about? I don't know. This is really weird. Did someone post something about me? Let's see, let me check.

No, not on Facebook at least. I stared out into the darkness. What were they talking about? I squinted as another neon red diner sign poked through the trees. How many diners did they have out here? Anyway, someone must be losing their shirt. I don't know. What time are you getting back?

I'm still a half hour away. The GPS keeps adding time. Okay. I guess I'll let you focus on driving, and we'll talk in a bit. I hung up the phone and hit the gas. The forest on either side of the road fell away to reveal an open field. Acres of dark, freshly plowed earth. No more diners.

at least. The moon hung low in the sky, not quite full. The fence ran along the road, rickety and old, broken in several places. Motion caught my eye. Someone walking on the side of the road? I squinted trying to get a better look. My phone rang, and I jumped. You just scared me to death. I glanced in the sideview mirror. Nothing. No one there. Just my mind playing tricks on me. Audrey. Emma just texted me. And Olivia. Both of them so sorry about what happened to you. Just what exactly did you get yourself into? What? Nothing!

Come on. Five of your friends all texting me saying the same thing. They're sorry about what happened. So what happened? Nothing. Did something happen out in Reno? Was fucking Christopher there? No. Well, then what are they talking about?

What'd you tell him? I haven't even talked to them. Mike, really? This is getting ridiculous. Stop lying to me. I'm not lying. Well, what is it then? I don't know.

Why would he immediately go to cheating? He was so paranoid. What are they talking about then? Doubt nagged the back of my mind. Had they seen something online? Did someone post something about me? What were they talking about? My heart sank.

This wasn't good. Just get home. Then you can figure out what's going on. Listen, I think I'm lost. I'm going to call you back, okay? He started yelling something, but I hung up and pulled off onto the shoulder. The GPS now said 31 minutes. Clearly, I was lost.

When I pulled out my phone, though, I saw I had a new notification. Ellie O3 tagged you on Instagram. It was a photo of Ellie and me, arms wrapped around each other, smiling in her apartment. The caption, Miss you so much, followed by several white hearts and a dove emoji.

I squinted at it. Wait, what? What? I'd seen her last weekend. Why was she posting this now randomly? Is this what all those texts were about? So sorry about missing me? What the hell was going on? I called Ellie. The line rang and rang until it went to voicemail. I opened Instagram back up, staring at the photo. So weird. That's when I noticed there was a comment on the post. Hope they find her soon.

I froze. Find me? What the hell? I threw the phone into the cup holder and pulled back onto the road, curving around the bend and starting downhill. I hit the gas, the speedometer crawling up to 35, 40, too fast for the twisty road. I jostled as I took a curve.

No. There was someone standing on the side of the road. My headlights flashed over them. and then they were gone. I hit the brakes, too late, glancing into the sideview mirror. It was so fast I couldn't tell whether they were young or old or anything else about them, except that they were wearing dark clothing and had pale, almost sickly skin. But I had seen someone.

I was sure of it. Who the hell would be out here so late walking on the side of the road? No, not walking. just standing there. Who would be standing on the side of the road at almost 1 a.m. I slowly made my way around the curve, gasping in air as reality set in. I'd almost hit them. I was so caught up and being lost, I'd almost run someone over.

The shrill sound of my phone made me yelp. Mike! Your mom, just calling me. She didn't sound so good. She's super upset saying all these weird things about you going missing. I told you you're not missing. I was just talking to you, but she didn't believe me. Audrey, it's bad.

I don't think she's taking her meds. She thinks I'm missing? Yeah. She said she calls you ten times and you didn't pick up. All her texts were left on red too. I haven't gotten any calls or texts from her. I figured I figured. I don't know.

A horrible sinking feeling flooded me. The weird texts, the Instagram post. They all, too, sounded like something happened to me. Did my mom text all my friends I'd gone missing? And they all believed her? Do you think my mom told Marissa and everyone? And that's why they've been texting you? I've been getting more texts.

More? Yeah. From Dave and Sam. and like everyone saying how sorry they are to hear about you asking if there's any updates. It's just, it's so weird. It's so fucking weird. They seem convinced that you're missing. But I mean, there's no way your mom has all their contact info.

I don't know. Maybe it's some sort of prank? But I knew that wasn't true. Dave didn't even know any of my friends. So how would he be in on it? And my mom certainly wasn't the kind to fool around like this. I took a deep breath and stared out into the darkness. We're fields.

They seemed to stretch on forever, rising into rolling hills at the edges of my vision. The GPS still said 29 minutes until home. I saw someone walking on the side of the road. Actually, not even walking. Just standing there. Okay, that's terrifying. I know. I'm just going to focus on driving now, I guess.

All right, just... I will. I hung up. The silence rang in my ears. The desolate fields stretching out all around me. Not a light, rebuilding, or any evidence of civilization in sight. The fog seemed to grow thicker, swirling in the headlights.

I just want to be on. I want to hold Mike and fall asleep in my own bed. It was too quiet. I reached over and clicked on the radio. Harsh static filled the car. I winced and spun the dial looking for a station. After a few seconds, a voice cut through the silence, slow and looting. Give your warning sign if danger is near, so that I may stop while the path is clear.

It almost sounded like a child's voice. reciting a poem? A prayer? It creeped me out, and I clicked the radio back off. The forest crept up again on both sides of the car, branches tangling above me, pitch black beyond the reach of my headlights. I hit the gas and went as fast as I could, bouncing over the hills, bracing at the curves. The GPS wouldn't budge. Still 29 minutes left. phone rang. Mike. Are you okay? Yeah. Why? The police just called me. They said, they said they found your car. What? I know. I told them it was impossible. It couldn't be yours because I'd just been talking to you, but they said, they said the plates matched. Where? On some back road outside of Franklin, like halfway off the road.

What? I stared out into the darkness. That's where I am. That's where I am right now. I swallowed my fear. I'm driving. I'm okay. There's nothing wrong. It must be some sort of scam.

They tell you that, so you follow them to some remote location, and they rob you. Okay, but what about the texts? This is not some coincidence. Everyone literally thinks you're missing, even the police now. But I'm literally driving the car they found.

right now, and I'm not fucking missing. Audrey, I asked them to describe the car. They not only did that, they described it down to the rosary hanging on the rearview mirror and that little dent on the passenger side. It is your car. No. Just no. How would they know all that shit?

Well, then someone tried really hard to make it look like your car and even switch the fucking license plates. Mike. You know it can't be my car. How do I know you're you? This happened to Joe, remember he told us? How do I know you're not some AI voice things someone's using and you're dead in a ditch somewhere? That's ridiculous. It has to be some kind of prank.

What, a prank by the police? I checked the phone number, Audrey. I think this is real. Silence pressed in on me. I stared out at the dark road. My headlights floating in the darkness. How can it be real? I'm not missing.

I know. I stared out at the dark road. My headlights floating in the darkness. How can it be real? I'm not missing. I know. I turned the bend. The forest flanking the road fell away.

And there, hovering in the darkness, was a bright red neon sign reading. diner. Horrible realization washed over me. It was the exact same diner. The empty parking lot, the chrome walls. It wasn't just similar. It was exactly the same. I was going in circles. Except that was impossible. I'd been going north or west the entire time. I'd kept checking. There was no way I could have gone in a circle. I think I'm looking. I'm looking. I hit the brakes and swung into the diner parking lot, pulled out my phone. The little blue indicator showed me on a twisting road in the middle of nowhere. I slid my fingers across the screen, zooming out, but there was nothing there.

No other roads, just vast gray emptiness. When I tried to zoom out further, the app crashed. No error message, no warning. I pulled it up a second time, a third, and the same thing. happened. Audrey, you still there? Maps isn't working, or the car GPS. I don't know where I am. Okay, share your location with me. Oh, yeah, I should have thought of that. I pulled out my phone and shared my location with Mike. It seemed like that was working at least, even if Maps wasn't. Do you see it? Yeah, I'm looking at it right now. It just shows you on this road. I'll let me to zoom my

Fuck. It just crashes. Now, every time I zoom out, it crashes. What? That's what's happening to me. Look, there's this diner here. I'm going to see if anyone's in there. Maybe they can direct me back to the highway. I looked up at the diner. It looked completely empty. The window's glowing gold. Every instinct was screaming at me to stay in the car and drive. But what other choice did I have? I got out. The red diner sign glowed above me, flickering in the slight fog. The slam of the door sounded, oddly muffled. I hurried up to the front door and tugged.

Locked. Locked, even though it claimed to be 24 hours. Anyone there? I need help. Nothing. And then I saw her. There was a single waitress, standing at a table on the far side of the diner, facing away from me.

Hey! I see you! I need your help, please! She didn't react. Didn't turn around. What the hell is going on? I ran back down the stairs towards the car, glinting under the single street lamp flickering above. As I reached for the door, I noticed something on the smooth red metal. Three indentations. Almost like cratches. I ran my fingers over them. They were too deep to be caused by a wayward branch.

I glanced around the dark, silent forest, the fog lifting off the road. Then I dove into the seat and slammed the door. That's when I saw it. A flyer on the windshield, tucked under the wiper. In thin, narrow letters it read, Don't drive at night

with a hand-drawn, creepy-looking stick figure next to it. I glanced out the window. There was no one there that I could see. Maybe they were watching me from under the trees. It felt like whoever they were, they were taunting me. I hit the gas and pulled back onto the road. I don't know what to do, Mike.

The waitress wouldn't come out, and someone left a flyer on my car. But there's no one there. I'm going to call the police. But I don't know where I am. Okay, okay. Don't panic. We'll figure this out. Where were you before getting on this road? A street sign or anything? Do you know what town it was?

On 40, outside of Franklin. All right, I'll tell him that. What's the name of the road? I stared at the car screen. There was no name on the road. It was just blank. I don't know. I don't know. I hit the gas. The red diner sign receded in the rearview mirror. I stared at the compass, still going northwest.

The GPS still said 29 minutes to go. As long as I didn't change direction, I had to get out of here. I had to. The forest crept back up. I rounded a curve, but the compass didn't change direction. That's not possible. Is it? I looked up and hit the brakes. There was someone standing there.

on the side of the road again. From their dark clothing and pale skin, it almost looked like the same person? That's impossible. There's no way. Mike? Someone's at the door.

I glanced at the clock. One 12 a.m. My heart sank. What? It would be there so late. I heard Mike's heavy footsteps over the phone. Then a pause.

It's the pull. Police. What? It's the police. Should I open up? I don't know. Michael Bludgy? Yes.

Your wife is Audrey Bollucci, correct? Yeah. Listen, we're sorry to bother you, so late, but we found some personal effects that we believe belonged to your wife. My heart sank. What? Her shoes were found in the creek next to her wallet. That's impossible. I'm on the phone with my wife right now. She doesn't know where she is. She took her turn off Route 40 outside of Franklin. Here, you should talk to her so you can find her.

A rustling sound as he took the phone and handed it to them. I heard a blip of a low voice and then... A shrill, deafening screech. Like microphone feedback. The winced as it filled the car and ground against my brain. And then the call dropped. No, no! Audrey! Audrey! Is that you? Mike. I dropped and I kept trying to call you back and you wouldn't answer.

Audrey, it's been three hours. Where are you? Mike. What? It hasn't even been a minute. I keep trying back and every time I do it just goes to a busy signal. I don't know what the fuck's going on. Audrey, are you there?

Can you hear me? Mike's voice caught in and out, laced with static. I was losing the connection. What the fuck is happening? I looked at the screen. Two bars. I was losing my signal. Mike, I don't know where I am.

The trees cleared again. The red diner sign glowed in the darkness, mocking me. Cloud swirled around a half-moon, and a horrible silence pressed in on me. A mechanical whine came through the speakers, and the call dropped again. I frantically tried to dial 911. The call dropped before it even connected.

I tried calling my mother, my friends. Nothing went through. I finally called Mike back. After three rings, he picked up. Mike, call the police. Help me. Audrey! Oh, God, are you okay?

I'm right here. It's been a week. No, it hasn't. It's the passenger. That's what they're saying. You went driving at night, and you were cursed. What the fuck are you talking about? It's not just you.

Thousands of people have gone missing while driving at night. They're like marked or something. I understand. His voice cut into static. Jittering blips came through, but I couldn't make out a single word. I began to sob. What the hell was going on? What?

Audrey, don't let it touch you because if it does, it will hurt you. Audrey, whatever you do, don't let it touch you. No, I swear, I heard her, I fucking swear. She's alive. We have to find her. Alive? In the woods? Without a car or shoes or her wallet for an entire week?

Came a bitter voice. My mom's. I don't want to believe she's. dead either, but she has to be. I heard her voice. I heard her voice. I'm right here. I'm right here.

They didn't seem to hear me. But it was clear. Where they were, I was missing. My car had been found. My shoes. I was alive, driving on this road in the middle of nowhere. but in their world I was gone

with a harsh wine of static the call dropped I tried to call him back over and over again but every call dropped immediately or went straight to voicemail I don't know how long I've been driving now hours

days doesn't feel like it's been that long but I don't think I'm going to see Mike again. I don't think I'm going to see anyone ever again. I think I'm going to drive on this road forever, separated from the rest of reality. Because the only thing that does work is a single radio station on AM. I've been listening to it for hours now. It's been cycling through the news. There is one story the man keeps reading over and over among the others. A young woman gone missing somewhere between Franklin and Wellington.

Her car found parked halfway off the road. And if anyone has any information, please, please call the hotline and tell the police, they need your help. But of course, when I call the police, it ends in that high-pitched wine that feels like it's slicing into my skull. The moon hangs low in the sky, waxing. and waning, and the red sign at the diner keeps glowing in the distance. High above the treetops, I keep driving. The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings, The Shortcut,

From the World of Andre Overdahl's Passenger, A time of release in theaters May 22nd, starring Addison Peacock, Trevor Shand, April Consolo, and Jade Shand, consigned by Blair Daniels, produced by Kevin Seaman, theme music by the Newton Brothers. Additional music by Coag. Vivek Abyshech, Clement Panchout, Nicholas Redding, and Conan Freeman. 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 646-481-7-197.