The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings - Lot 143 : This Town Has Rules About The Thing That Mimics

Episode Date: August 27, 2026

Lot 143 : This Town Has Rules About The Thing That Mimics   Consigned by Russ Boyd   Starring Trevor Shand Fiona Thraille   **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. 🥗 Factor: https://www.factormeals.com Use Code: Sinister50off 📱 Mint Mobile: https://mintmobile.com/SINISTER 💚 Antiquarium shop: https://theantiquarium.myshopify.com   Featuring Stephen Knowles as The Antique Dealer   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.

J equals T. Hello, dear friend. Welcome back. Every town has its customs. Little traditions. Peculiar superstitions. Rules that may seem rather silly to an outsider. But I found that when the locals tell you not to do something,

it's usually polite to listen. Today's acquisition, a large bedroom mirror from a quiet little town surrounded by forest. An ordinary mirror by all appearances. Though perhaps appearances aren't always the most reliable measure of such things. The account accompanying it is titled, This town has rules about the thing that mimics. 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 Gabagool, Paula Henley, Novelty, Sabrina Bowser, Melinda Shatcher, and Indfun Baptiste. We are ever appreciative of your devotion to the order. Go to the obsidian covenant.com to receive the sacrament. Now, oh yes. To the antiquarium of sinister happenings and odd goings on. The drive was long and exhausting.

It was always fascinating to me how a six-hour drive just sitting on my ass could tire me out much more than an eight-hour shift standing up did. Something about holding yourself in one position, I guess, staring straight ahead. There was also something about being stuck that folded over you like a weighted blanket. Heavier and heavier as the minutes passed. I took a lot of bathroom breaks and just stood next to my car, staring out into the fields. and then later on, into the forest. Each rest stop was thicker with trees and thinner with other people. By the time I pulled into the driveway, it was dark outside.

And I was in an awful mood. I hated arriving places in the dark, you know what I mean? This is the worst possible place to do so. I was meant to live here. And my first time seeing the area was supposed to be a chance to feel it out and get comfortable. Driving through the winding neighborhoods and the blackness, just left me feeling more disoriented than the arduous process of moving already was. I regret it leaving so late. I regret it making so many stops, but it is what it is. As my car door slammed shut, and I slung my overnight

bag over my shoulder, the porch light came on, a yellow glow that emanated peacefully from just under the wooden awning. My new neighbor cracked the front door open And a little dog squeezed its way out Bounding towards me Cosmo Cosmo come back here The border collie leapt into the air

His paws scraping the front of my sweatshirt with each jump I laughed My bad mood beginning to melt away pretty quickly Hi Cosmo Hi puppy, are you so friendly? I mumbled Crouching to ruffle his ears and hold on on his collar, just in case he was a runner.

I'm so sorry. The woman called, jogging down the driveway to meet us. She took his collar from me, steering him back toward the house. He hardly ever gets to meet new people. I hadn't known what to expect, so I could hardly say she looked as I'd expected. I'd only ever seen old pictures of her with my mom in their college dorm or holding me as a baby with a big grin on her face. In the glow from the porch light, I could hardly make out much detail. other than her pale blue pajama pants and knit sweater.

Her hair was light brown with a good streak of gray, tied up in the back of her head with a ribbon. I watched the mess of hair Bob as I followed her up the front steps. As soon as we got inside and the door was securely shut behind us, she released Cosmo and opened her arms. I set my bag down and hugged her. She smelled strongly of lavender and something earthy. and her frizzy hair tickled my ear.

I'm so glad you're here. Joan released me, clasping her hands in front of her and beaming at me. Oh, look at you. I haven't seen you since you were a little baby. I got a better look at her now. She had soft wrinkles around her eyes. Light her eyes than I thought they'd be from the pictures. One was droopier than the other.

I forgot if my mom had met her. that she'd had a stroke or maybe it was Bell's palsy. Aging had also shrunk her down. In college, she'd look much more filled out, her cheeks flushed with warmth. I smiled back, letting her take my hands in hers like older women seemed to love to do. I'm so glad you got here safe. I was a little bit worried about those winding roads, especially at night. I thought you might get lost. I waved her off, picking my bag up off the floor. Nah, I had directions I couldn't get lost. Oh, you folks in your technology.

I wondered what folks she was referring to. City folk, young people. Maybe a combination of both. Let me make you some tea and let's chat. Or some coffee. Do you drink coffee? Oh, I'm sorry, let me show you where to put your things. She motioned for me to follow her down the hallway.

Cosmo nipped at my heels, yipping at me. I would love some coffee, thank you. I felt sleep closing in, and I'd rather stay up late than be rude to my host by crashing. She opened the door to a guest bedroom and stood aside. It was pristine. The covers tucked in like in a hotel. The only other things in the room were a rocking chair in the corner, a bedside table adorned with a doily and a little figure of a deer,

and a large mirror right across from the bed. I set my bag down on the floor, looking around. I can only drink decaf, but I keep the regular kind around for guests. She put a pot of coffee on as I found a seat at the kitchen table, admiring her house. It looked old, but well renovated and kept up with. She had this huge skylight right above the stove, and I imagined how nice it must be when it rained.

I had one in my new living room, too. So when will your place be available again? I shrugged, mushing up my hair. They said it should be in the next few days, and it better be because that's when the moving truck will get here. I laughed jovially. I wouldn't want to have to move all my stuff in here. Well, I am in need of some lawn decorations.

They're just doing some last cleaning and checking that all the appliances are in order. Listen, I wouldn't be burdening you if my lease hadn't been ending. It had been really sad to clean out my old place and say goodbye to everyone. Even though I knew they'd visit. Moving here to work in my father's lumber company wasn't particularly the exciting new venture I thought I'd eventually move for, but it was a huge step up the ladder and paid well. Besides, after years in the city, I thought it'd be nice to have some solitude and a new start in a peaceful little forest town. Maybe I'd finally actually do some writing. No, no, not a burden at all.

The kettle beeped, and she poured hot water into her own mug on top of the tea bag. The entire room smelled like strong coffee. calming my nerves. It's nice to have a warm body around. I haven't had much of that since my son moved out. There were pictures stuck to the fridge with various fruit-shaped magnets. I notice now. Pictures of a man who was likely around my age.

Standing with his mother. Standing with another girl on graduation day. I wondered how long had been since he'd left. Is that him? I asked. pointing at the fridge. Yes, that's my boy. She answered, moving to open the door quickly and fumbling around for milk, obscuring my view.

Cosmo whined at my feet. I reached down to pat his head and he nipped at me, so I pulled my hand back. He seemed a little stressed out. Matt. Joan said, suddenly right in front of me, and I jumped. I smiled apologetically at the reaction. and she handed me the mug of coffee and I took it. There are some things I need to talk to you about.

I frowned inquisitively, looking up at her. She took a seat across from me. Suddenly, solemn. What things? I just don't know if you've ever lived in a place like this before. I looked up at the ceiling, thinking about what that could mean. I've lived in small towns before. That's what you're getting at.

I went to college in a pretty small community. It's not that. She continued, sipping on her tea absentmindedly. Although I'm glad to hear it. So, what is it? She hesitated, tapping her fingernails against her mug for a long time before speaking. Her more droopy eyes seemed to blink slower than the other, like it was slightly delayed. I felt bad for noticing, so I looked away.

This place is different. I know your parents didn't tell you anything, and that's because they don't know about it. We keep it pretty hush-hush. Yeah, she looked so stoic now that I felt unnerved. Her face looks strange and uncanny, without a huge smile on it. She sighed and nodded slowly to herself.

as if she was considering how to word something. It's really nothing to worry yourself over. We're all pretty used to it around here. You learn how to adapt. I wish she would just spit it out already, but I wasn't about to tell her that. She'd been such a gracious host. There's a thing. There's a thing around here.

I think it came from the forest, evolved from something else, Probably thousands of years ago. Tell me, do you know a lot of folklore? I stuttered. My coffee's starting to go cold in my hands. Do you mean like the windigo? Stuff like that? Yes, like that.

This is a thing no one has written about yet, though. Although there are similar stories, it's unheard of except to us. I knew a lot about myths people had, forest towns like this, but I didn't know they took it so seriously. My mom hadn't told me her friends were so superstitious. I just need to warn you so you know what to do if you encounter it because you will. She looked at me. Her hair falling in thin curtains on either side of her eyes. Those words sent it chill down my spine because you will. As if it was

some inevitable event, some cosmic, unearthly, destined thing. I was never good with spooky stories. I wondered if she was trying to haze me, you know, trying to scare me out of moving here. Maybe the locals really didn't like new people, and she'd just been great at hiding it so far. Okay. I know this sounds strange. I know you probably don't believe me, but I wouldn't be able to live with my. If I didn't tell you.

I swallowed hair. There is a thing here we have no name for. Some people call it a mimic or an echo. A more theatrical of us call it the actor. The children call it the copycat. Okay. She laughed. But it came out shallow and breathy.

Slightly wrong. That's what my son used to call it when he was little. What, um, what does it do? Well, well, she laughed again, nervously dragging her finger along the rim of her mug. It mimics. Mimics, what? Anything. Really, anything. You name it. Anything physical. Trees, lampposts, animals, people.

I swallowed it again Looking down at my hands I didn't really believe her But it still made me feel Fucking weird The air in the room felt thick And hot Whether she really believed it or not

Either way she was trying to scare me And it was working Hmm Forgive me There's someone at the door Curious I don't have any other appointments scheduled but for you. Curious, indeed.

One moment. Apologies. Apparently they had the wrong address. Strange. And even stranger, they knew my name. Now then, shall we? Whether she really believed it or not, either way. she was trying to scare me, and it was working.

If it mimics things, how do people know about it? The consequences. I chewed on the inside of my cheek to keep from shivering. Of breaking the rules. And because sometimes it messes up, a dog with three eyes or a tree with human skin. Sometimes it doesn't have a full grasp of what it's imitating. But it's been getting better with time.

Now she looked sad. She set her tea aside to wring her hands on the table. A couple of years ago, there was a nice family, a couple of blocks over. The wife broke the rules. Whatever you do, if you encounter it, you have to pretend everything is normal. You have to indulge it. Play along. If you acknowledge that it's imitating, it gives it permission.

Cosmo whined and curled up at my feet, shifting anxiously. He pointed his nose up at me, nudging my shin. Permission to do what, Joan? We don't know. No one witnessed it except her husband, and he wouldn't tell anyone what happened to her. All we know is when she woke up, she had two children instead of one. When she told the mimic, it wasn't her daughter.

She shrugged again. Whatever it did to her, it left a horrible mess. The whole town smelled like rotten meat for weeks. Jesus. I leaned back in my chair. For an urban legend, this seemed pretty fleshed out, unless she was lying to me. But she seemed so genuinely distressed

and such a kind woman, it didn't make sense. She'd do that to me. This is so fucked up. It changes every midnight to something different. There will be some days when you don't see it at all, many days, either because it's something small or unnoticeable or because it isn't focused on you. But if it is focused on you,

I need to know you'll be able to handle it, that you'll be okay. Wait, so I ran my hand down my face, rubbing at my eyes. So what do I do again? Theoretically, you know, if I encountered it, she held up one finger. Don't bring it inside your home. If you see a nice chair on the side of the road that feels off somehow, don't take it back to your house. If you see a sad stray puppy,

if someone comes to your door asking for a glass of water, or if they look like an old friend but you didn't plan on having company, That gives it access. And then it could pretend to be anything inside, okay? Okay, got it. She held up a second finger. Never, never touch it, never let it touch you. It will learn about you.

It will get attached to you. If you touch it, it can mimic you. She smiled, sadly. This is sometimes difficult to avoid. It wants to touch you. It will come up with excuses. This is why you really don't want it inside of your house. Okay.

Not only that, Matt. If it touches you, you will never be able to leave. I wanted this to stop. I wanted to go to bed now. I felt on edge. This really wasn't how I wanted to start my new life here. always looking over my shoulder, but I still really didn't want to be rude. She held up a third finger, looking into my eyes.

Her gaze was so intense, almost cold. Never ever let it know that you know what it is. Cosmo started barking, and I almost leapt out of my skin. He started running in circles, pacing anxiously, barking at seemingly nothing. My heart was racing. I looked at Joan. She was looking at me, not Cosmo, searching my face as if to read if I believed her.

I laughed to try to cut the tension. It hardly worked. I think I need to call it a night, Joan. Can I talk about this more in the morning, maybe? She nodded, almost seeming disappointed. The test I hadn't passed. She took my mug, still nearly full of now cold coffee and her own.

Of course, honey. I'm sorry to spook you. It's getting late. I have to go anyways. Get some rest. Cosmo, lay down. He didn't listen. He barked at me,

backing into the doorway. The neat guest bedroom that it seemed sweet before seemed almost eerie now. And the large mirror in front of the bed made me think of stories I had heard when I was little about never having one of those in front of where you sleep. Something about demons coming through and taking you. I couldn't stop thinking about what Joan had said.

Not that it was true, but if it was, had it ever been led inside of her home? How would I have known if it was the chair I'd been sitting on or the mug of coffee or this bed? If she really believed all that, it seemed an awful way to live. I drifted off for a little while. to restless sleep. It only felt like moments, though. Before I was opening my eyes with a start,

Cosmo was barking somewhere in the otherwise silent house. He'd been acting strange all night. I wondered if he was always like that, or if he was sick or something. I waited to hear Jones scolding him or trying to calm him down, but her voice, it never came.

He just kept barking. The floorboards, I freaked as I stood. I walked slowly to the door of the room and hesitated. But if this door was the thing, I was stupid, I was just being gullible. I pulled it open, wincing at the sound of the hinges squeaking. Park form rushed down the hall toward me. My hand flew to my chest, stepping backwards,

until it was close enough that I could tell it was just... It was just Cosmo. He was panting and shaking. And he spun in a circle in front of me. What am I going? What is? He sprinted back down the hall, and I followed him. The kitchen was better lit than the hallway.

The moonlight casting a white glow into the room. I blinked. My eyes adjusting. I glanced at the clock on the stove. It read in bright green numbers. 122 a.m. My eyes drifted to the fridge. In the darkness, the photos of Joan and her son felt almost uncanny.

Like something lost to time. I looked closer. Joan looked happy sitting with her son and holding him when he was a kid. She looked just like she had in the pictures with my mom in college. It must have been not long after that when she'd had him. Her eyes, brown. like I thought they were. They must just look darker in pictures than in real life,

or maybe they'd somehow lightened with age. Maybe she was just a little blind, or whatever she had that made her eye droop, but I looked at another picture. A more recent one of her in this very kitchen, with someone around her age. There were the wrinkles and the half-gray hair. Her eyes were dark.

And neither side. Look dragged down. My eye caught on a white slip of paper. Noseally, I took it from beneath the strawberry-shaped magnet and held it to the light coming from the stove. Hi, Matt. If you're reading this, your mother must have contacted you. So sorry I had to slip out.

Friends sink flooded, and I had to help her pack all her things up. We'll be back first thing in the morning. Help yourself to anything. tea, decaf, and regular coffee for guests. Sorry again. See you soon, Joan. Cosmo snarled. He had his paws up on the windowsill and was staring out at something in the night. With shaking hands, I sat down the note. I walked over to him. My heartbeat, almost audible, in the quiet, under the street lights. There was a man. He was standing directly in front of the house, looking in, but too far away to easily make out.

Taking Cosmo's collar in my hand for comfort, he was waving his arms in some kind of mockery of a friendly gesture. And on closer inspection, mile on his face, similar to the one Joan had worn. His legs were spread too far apart, like a baby deer. like he hadn't yet figured out how to stand properly. His eyes were too low on his face. All the proportions were slightly off. As if he was a children's drawing of something they'd seen once before. It was pretty close.

And he was wearing my clothes. It was me. Forgot my bag. By the time I realized I was already almost out of town. I just wanted to get out of there. I got to the winding roads before I had to stop the car. The further away I get, the more intense the fear becomes. It washes over me in waves as intense as the pain was when I broke my arm as a child.

It's heavy and otherworldly. It feels like descending into hell. It feels like entering another reality. It feels like becoming completely alone. It feels like I'm skin being too. torn from a body. It feels like if I keep driving, the world will end.

And I can't do it. The thought of driving back and climbing into Jones' guestbed sounds like the most comforting thing. In the fucking world? From my mother after the first day of school. I don't think I'll ever be able to leave just like it.

But if anyone ever tells you a story like this one, listen, please get out. 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. Antiquarium of sinister happenings.

Lot 143. This town has rules about the thing that mimics. Consigned by Russ Boyd, starring Trevor Shand and Fiona Thrail, 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, 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 646-481-7197.