The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings - Lot 131 : The Watcher (Chapter 2)

Episode Date: June 24, 2026

Lot 131 : The Watcher (Chapter 2)   Consigned by Brandon Faircloth Starring Trevor Shand Melissa Medina Jarret Griffis   Theme music by The Newton Brothers   Produced by Kevin Seaman   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.

For an ad-free experience, visit the obsidiancovenant.com. Equals why. Welcome back. Tonight's object is a painting. A large tree with dark red bark and deep green leaves. Beautiful work, really. The sort of thing you'd expect to find hanging in a quiet study or above a fireplace. And yet, I've found that the most dangerous objects in this shop,

are rarely the ones that look dangerous. Paintings are generally expected to tell the truth. Perhaps not a literal one, but an emotional one. This painting was created for a very different reason. A reason that is revealed in The Watcher, Chapter 2. 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 Grateful Receiver, Ali Kaleen, Chris Hundven, Aris Knox, Drew Pack, and Kaley, Breed, ever appreciative of your devotion to the order. Go to the obsidian covenant.com to receive the sacrament. Ha ha ha, ha. Sounds harmless enough, right?

Welcome to the antiquarium of sinister happenings and odd goings on. I mean, Melanie, grunted as I stepped forward and started hugging her. Laughing, she hugged me back for a moment. But then she whispered in my ear. We need to talk, and not out here. Can we go inside? I broke away and nodded, wiping at my eyes as I tried to finish unlocking the door with a shaking hand. My heart was pounding, and I still felt like I was in a strange and wonderful dream.

But when we'd gotten inside and sat down on my living room sofa, I forced myself to focus on the biggest question I had. Melanie had still been smiling as we sat down, but now she looked worried and sad. Thomas, that's what I'm here to tell you. Things aren't like you think they are. They never have been. I frowned. A new line of fear cutting through my happy haze.

What do you mean? She held the bridge of her nose for a moment, looking down like she was trying to figure out how to say, whatever it was she had to say. Thomas... You're part of a psychological experiment. I've been part of it for longer than you have as one of the actors, and I still don't know all the details. I'm pretty sure it's run by some government agency,

and I know they're investing a lot of money and time into it, but for what reasons that I'm not so sure. I realized I was bringing my hands. No, that wasn't right. I couldn't be right. This is some kind of trick. Melanie went on. What I do know,

is that you're being watched as a long-term subject. They've constructed this whole scenario where you do a secret job watching someone, me, who looks like they might be trapped. They give you instructions and a way of making choices. You've got buttons or something you can choose between, right? I nodded weakly. My tongue thick in my throat.

Yeah. A red one. And a green one. She sighed and nodded. I think you're testing how much you'll obey, what choices you'll make based off of your morals, your intelligence, and your fear. It's interesting, or at least I thought so, when I first joined up six years ago. They've never officially given me any details, just the overall gist, but people talk. The other actors and me, sometimes we hear things and we gossip.

That's what caused me to start feeling bad. We were other actors. Melanie's eyes widened. Oh, shit. Yeah, uh, sorry. I think they call him Mr. Solomon. And there are others, too. When I just stared at her, she went on.

Anyway, for a long time, it was just the normal job, right? It'd spend six hours a day acting like I'm this trapped girl, mainly faking painting or watching TV. You know, boring stuff. Hold on, you fake the painting. You're not really painting those. No, sorry. I can't paint a bit.

I'm a pretty good singer, though. She tried to smile, but faltered. Reaching forward, she touched my arm. That's why they always have the paintings turned where you can't see them. They're already done beforehand. All you see is some blank canvases, and, well, when they want me to show you something.

Her expression darkened as she went on. That's why I had to break the rules and contact you. When they started doing this hidden message, mind game bullshit, I got worried. Worried you would take it too serious, that you could get hurt or even hurt yourself. As soon as you left your shift tonight, I talked to one of the guys in the video department. He told me about how you reacted and showed me how you were still parked down the street from the building. I drove over. The bedroom set is in a building outside of town. I saw you sitting in your car, and I almost approached you then, but I was scared of getting caught and fired, so I parked and waited until I could follow you somewhere else and let you know I was okay.

She blinked back, tears. I'm ashamed to say I almost left a couple of times. I don't want to lose this job, and I tried to tell myself you would be okay after. a day or two. I could get them to change the script enough that you felt like I was okay and wouldn't worry too much. I felt an angry heat growing in my chest. Oh, that's nice of you. She looked up, her eyes red. I know, I'm a shit. I'm so sorry. I was being selfish and cowardly, but I didn't actually leave. And then when I saw Charlie leaving the building, saw you running over to him, I knew they were escalating it even further. Charlie?

Melanie rolled her eyes in frustration. Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry. Charlie Jeffreys, he's another actor. In an earlier version of the experiment, he actually played Mr. Solomon, but they decided he wasn't scary enough. So now he's usually in one of the suits.

He's actually done that for your version a lot. You just can't recognize him under all that get-up they wear. I kept curling and uncurling my hand. on my lap. This is all too much. I felt like a pinball going between anger and relief and embarrassment and confusion. So all the stuff he told me, that was all just to scare me? See how I'd react? She nodded as she sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Yes, I'm sorry. That's why I knew I couldn't wait any longer to tell you, but I could see how worried and scared you were going back to your car.

I pulled my arm back from her touch. Thanks, I guess. At least to stop me before I went to the police and looked like a fucking joke in front of them too. I just wanted her gone. Her sympathetic, pitying eyes off of me. Thanks for stopping by and letting me in on it. I tried to make my voice sound hard and unfeeling, but it came out watery instead.

Standing up, I turned away from her so she couldn't see as I started to cry. If you don't mind, I. I need time to think about everything. It's a lot. A moment passed and then her hand was on my shoulder. Thomas, you don't have anything to be embarrassed about. They're very good at what they do. All you did was what you thought was right, because you're a good man.

I thought you were in trouble and I wanted to help. She gently turned me toward her. And when I looked up, she smiled and sniffed again. I know, but you need to realize most people wouldn't have tried to help. Not when it meant giving up their job or risking themselves like that. Not for a stranger. I wiped it my face as I looked away. Well, I still feel dumb, but I'm glad it's not real.

I'm glad you're okay. We both are. I paused and caught her eye again. We are, aren't we? Safe, I mean? Yeah, I think so. Like I said, they have a lot invested in whatever this is. And the fact that they're willing to go as far as they have with you makes me wonder.

But I've never seen any signs of anyone getting hurt. I think the worst that could happen is one or both of us gets fired. I felt my face getting red again. Don't worry about that. I'm going to fucking quit tomorrow. I'll finally get to hit their damn buttons, maybe both of them. I started to smile, but then I saw the look on Melanie's face. Thomas, please don't do that.

I don't think they would hurt us. But if you up and quit, they'll figure out that I've talked to you. I don't think they watch us all the time, but I don't know what they can find out. You know, tracking cell phones, spy satellites, whatever. I'm taking a big risk just being here, and I don't want them catching on. I took a step back from her. So you want to keep getting paid to trick people like me. She reached out and grabbed my right hand.

I had been clenching it unconsciously, and it relaxed at her touch. No, I don't want to. But I wasn't expecting this. How the experiment has changed. Getting to actually meet you. I can't do it long term. But another month or two to save up money Now that you're in on it and won't be scared or hurt by it anymore

That I can do That we both can do We can keep going like normal Take some more of their money and then one of us can quit The next month the other one can And how does that sound? I shrugged uncertainly It made some sense

And once I'd calm down and would probably make more She gave my hand a squeeze And When all this is over I want to get to know you better But I know I've been playing a role But for the most part That's been me

You've been watching all this time I think it's only fair I get to see more of you too Assuming you're interested in that I felt my hand growing clammy in hers As my stomach fluttered Well I mean Yeah

Yeah I'd really like that. How long do we have to wait to see each other again? Work another month or so. Save what you can, and then quit. I'll wait another two or three weeks, and then I'll do the same. And then? She looked up at the ceiling as she pondered it for a moment.

And I was struck again by how beautiful she was, even if she was a little different in person than I'd imagined. Three months from tonight will meet right here. I'll come over and we can start getting to know each other better. How's that sound? Returning her smile, I nodded. That sounds great. Well, that's certainly one way to end an evening.

Thomas seems convinced he's finally figured out what's really going on. I've found that's usually when things become dangerous. Excuse me. Someone appears to be at the front door. I'll be right back. Apologies. Wrong shop. Happens more often than you'd think.

Now then, Thomas finally has the answers he's been looking for. Shall we? When she left a couple of minutes later, part of me hated to see her go. But another part was relieved. I was so exhausted. And while I was so happy she was okay and we'd finally met, I felt like the burned up wire in an old light bulb.

I needed time alone. Time to think and calm down. And most of all, time to rest. I didn't even really remember falling asleep. And when I woke up, I realized my alarm had been buzzing for over 30 minutes. I jumped up and raced to get to my shift at work. As she had been leaving, Melanie had stressed again how we needed to. to act completely the same.

That meant not freaking out, but it also meant not acting like everything was okay either. If I suddenly showed no signs of being worried about her, that that would tip them off to. I promised, and she left after a brief hug and kiss. Remembering that now, through the haze of my tiredness the night before, it felt like a dream.

Still, I went into the surveillance room with a much lighter heart. I didn't have to worry or feel guilty anymore about not helping her, and there was some satisfaction in finally pulling one over on the people that had tricked me for so long. Besides, in three months I'd be done with this place and get to see where, Melanie, in person, at least. Before I got to watch her on the video feed, as soon as I came into work, she was asleep when I first got there, and I found myself wondering if she was as tired as I still felt. when she woke up later and started reading a book,

I found myself beginning to smile and had to stop myself. I should still be acting worried and not smiling like I had a fucking crush. I have to do better. So Melanie didn't get in trouble. About an hour later, she started working on another one of her paintings. Watching her work, I was amazed at how real it all looked. It was hard to see everything from my angle, but I would have sworn she had paint on those brushes

and was really painting whatever was on that canvas. I found myself feeling proud of her. She really was a great actress. Not only didn't I see her giving any clues that we had met her talked, but she really did seem different in the room than she had in my apartment. I suppose that's what she had meant by playing a role. I was almost at the end of my shift, and while I hated to leave her,

I had to admit that I was ready for some more sleep. Trying to guard my reactions all day had been exhausting, and I was dreading the next few weeks. But then I realized she was done painting. I expected her to just go and do something else, but instead, she picked up the canvas at its edges and carefully walked it over to the sofa. Her body was blocking it at first,

but then she stepped aside. It was a painting of a massive tree. The bark was dark red, with a huge twisting trunk that broke off into a dozen branches. Those branches were covered in leaves that were so deep green, they almost reminded me of storm clouds more than the top of a tree. Like all the paintings, I felt touched by it. Even now that Melanie had told me she didn't paint them, the images themselves combined with the colors and the small details they really were amazing. Just like this one, if you look close enough, you could see that there were several small blackbirds in the branches of the tree. It almost looked like they were made of words.

I felt my heart start to hammer, and I forced myself to stay calm. I knew it was all a game now. I just had to play my part a little while longer. Still, the worried me would want to know what the word said, so I might as well try to read them. I squinted, following the birds right to left and top to bottom. That girl isn't me. Away from the painting to see Rachel staring up at me. To do it right now.

If Melanie was somehow a fake, that meant they must have sent her. And if they sent her, they knew about the messages in her painting. They knew about me asking questions. And they knew I didn't hit a button during any other than fear. crawling up my chest, making it hard to breathe. Standing up, I started pacing, periodically glancing back at the monitor to see if Rachel could help me. Tell me what I needed to do next. But she had laid down on her bed. It was hard to tell for sure with her back to the camera, but I think she was crying.

No, I needed to fix this. Get her out of there. And if I didn't have a better plan, I'd just have to go with the one I already had. Feeling the hard eye of the ceiling camera on me. I went to the door and stepped back into the locker room. My phone was in my locker, and after messing up the combination the first time, I got the door opened and got it out. Gripping it tightly. I tried to hold it by my side casually, but I knew there was a little point. If they knew everything, I wasn't going to be able to hide anything.

I just had to try and be fast. Get some kind of message out to people that could help Rachel before they got to me. I opened the camera on the phone as I re-entered the surveillance room and hit record. It made a small beeping noise, and once a small beeping noise. I was sure it was recording. I turned the camera on myself. My name is Tommy. Thomas Calhoun.

And my job is watching a woman trapped in a room. This is not a joke or a fucking movie or whatever. This is real. For three years, my job was to sit in this room. I moved the camera slowly around the room, taking in the door to the bathroom, the water cooler, the desk with the monitor's keyboard and button box. And watch a video feed of a woman locked up in a bedroom somewhere, okay?

A step closer to the desk and made sure the monitor showing Rachel was clear and in focus. I didn't know this woman was a prisoner at first, or I tricked myself into thinking she wasn't because of money was good. Either way, the way I know she is now, she's in danger. And so am I. After lingering on video of her for a few more seconds, to make sure every detail could be seen, I turned the camera back on myself. I had the hurry. But the video might be too big to send quickly. I was trying to stay calm, but I felt myself tearing up as I went on. and I did my best to keep my words clear. Please help her.

I don't know where she is. I don't know who has her. I don't know who has her because I don't know who I really work for. And she is not safe. All I know is that I work at a building at Caldwell right outside of San Antonio. I only know the names of two other people connected to this place.

The man who hired me, Mr. Solomon. And a man who might have a job like mine, Charlie Jeffers. No, Jeffries, I think. I don't even know if they're real people. I mean, I don't know if that's their real names, Please, I'm not crazy. I know how this sounds.

Just come here, see the room, figure out where she is, and help her. I heard the muffled sound of the outer door opening into the locker room, and I frantically fumbled with the phone to stop the recording. How do I send? Oh no, how do I... Okay, there it is. I hit the button to share and felt a new panic rising. Who should I send it to?

I had only a handful of contacts, and I just selected them all. Maybe at least one of them would take it seriously and get help. As I heard the door to the surveillance room opening behind me, I had sent to data service or Wi-Fi. Please send again when connected. Fuck! No, no, no, no, no. I turned to see Mr. Solomon entering the room.

He was flanked by two large men in dark suits to look like bodyguards or something. Raising a finger, he wagged it at me. Uh-uh. No service in here, Thomas. But then, you should never need service in here so long as you followed the rules. They took me easily. I tried to get to the bathroom and close the door, but to two guards stop me and pulled me down. They put the zip ties on my hands and feet and pulled the black bag over my head.

Then I was being carried out of the room and it felt like they must have put me in the back of a van that was pulled right up to the building. I was laying on what felt like thin, weird smelling carpet that covered a hard metal layer underneath. I heard someone get into the van with me, and I asked where we were going, if they would just take me and let Rachel go. There was a short laugh overhead, and then Mr. Solomon's voice as he told me that he would explain everything when we got where we were going. For now, he said, I needed to relax. It was a long drive, and I would need the rest. I went to say more, but then I felt a sharp pain in my neck. stabbed me or injected me with something.

I was feeling so strange now. But I had to stay awake. I had to try and get away. I had to. Hello again, Thomas. To be continued. 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.

You have a good night now. The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings, Lot 131, The Watcher, Chapter 2. Consigned by Brandon Faircloth, starring Trevor Shand, Melissa Medina, and Jared Griffiths, featuring Stephen Knowles as the antique dealer. Production and sound design by Kevin Seaman. Theme music by the Newton Brothers. Additional music by... Coag, Vivek Abashek, 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 646-481-717.