Lot 056 : The Funeral (A Trilogy in Two Parts)

Hello, my friend.

Thanks for stopping by.

As luck would have it, if one could really call it luck at all,

another item arrived for you earlier today.

A photo album passed along through generations of the Miller family.

It holds a horrifying secret that I do get the feeling you will soon discover

for yourself.

You're invited to a hell of a family reunion in

the funeral.

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 Early Miller, Jungi Right Hand, Liam Mitchell, Donica DeGree, Lacey Miller, Ashley Fisher,

Jin,

Bridget Criswell, and Miss World.

We are ever appreciative of your devotion to the Order.

Go to theObsidianCovenant.com to receive the sacrament.

Now,

where were we?

Oh, yes,

welcome to the antiquarium of sinister happenings

and odd goings-on.

The Funeral Part 1

My mother is standing over an open grave with bloodshot eyes while clutching the arm of my father.

My father has his gaze averted, not able to look into the hole in the ground prepared for my casket.

In another photo, my childhood friends me and Ted are holding each other's hands, both dressed in all black.

And then there is one from afar, but I can clearly recognize my sister Emma.

She's holding a plush rabbit I gave her for her 10th birthday to her chest, and she's wearing the black dress she wore for her high school graduation.

The weirdest part is

that it appears as if she's staring right at the camera.

Her head slightly tilted.

That one hurt the most to look at.

Except maybe for the one with the gravestone.

Liam Miller.

1999 to 2024.

Beloved son and brother.

My name.

My year of birth.

And the year I died.

The photos were sent to me from an unknown number, and I can't even say how long I spent staring at them, zooming into different faces and things in the background.

I took in every detail,

trying to figure out if it was AI generated or if some very sick person had created them with Photoshop.

Either way, they were fake, of course.

As I was very much alive and did not have a funeral.

But even knowing that, I couldn't help the knot forming in my throat.

And then I deleted them and blocked the number.

Some might consider that stupid because I was deleting proof of some form of harassment, but those photos just made me feel sick.

All I wanted to do was be rid of them.

And I kept it a secret.

I didn't want the people I loved who were in those photos to see them.

To watch themselves grieving me.

Especially not my family.

When you're in your 20s, or any other age I could imagine, the last thing you want to be reminded of is your death, especially so visually.

I've had issues with anxiety semi-regularly since high school.

It's gotten better ever since I finished college and found a job in my own apartment, but those photos triggered something.

This irrational feeling of paranoia kept following me.

And when I couldn't sleep properly anymore, I took some time off work and decided to visit my parents.

I drove down without warning them because I thought it might be a nice surprise for them as well.

And for Emma.

She still lived at home and asked me to visit quite often.

Luckily, I had a key because when I got there, no one was home.

I made my way upstairs to my room to drop off my bags when I passed Emma's bedroom and froze in front of her open door.

The dress,

her black graduation dress that she wore on the photos of my funeral, was laid out on the bed.

The plush rabbit she'd been clutching to her chest draped right on top of it.

This couldn't be a coincidence.

I went inside the room and sat down on her bed,

inspecting both the rabbit and the dress.

Not sure what exactly I was looking for.

Liam?

The voice of my sister startled me.

I hadn't heard the front door open or shut.

Neither did I hear the wood creak beneath the staircase that led upstairs.

Slowly, I turned around.

My sister was standing there, as if she'd seen a ghost.

She was the female copy of my dad.

It became more apparent the older she got.

The same strawberry blonde hair, pale skin full of freckles, and athletic style.

I was more like my mom.

Tan, with black, slightly curly hair.

Fucking hell, you scared me half to death.

What are you doing here?

She walked up and tried to hug me, but I stayed frozen.

I came to

visit.

Where are mom and dad?

She took a step back and frowned.

Visiting Aunt Carol for the week.

Didn't you call them?

I shook my head.

Hey, is everything okay, Liam?

You seem weird.

What are you doing with that dress?

I pointed to her room.

I was cleaning up my closet.

Why do you care?

Without another word, I turned away and headed towards my room.

Emma following close behind.

Hey, how long are you staying?

Did something happen?

Why didn't you call?

I turned around abruptly and hissed.

This is my home.

Can I just stop by?

She shrugged.

Yeah, geez.

Sorry.

I was just asking.

Good.

You just did.

Now can I have some peace and unpack or what?

After calling my parents and confirming that they were really gone for the whole week, I joined my sister in the kitchen to apologize.

Seeing that dress triggered something inside of me.

And while I'm not proud of it, it made me suspect my sister.

Why would she lay out the same thing she was wearing in those photos?

Obviously, it made me wonder if she was the one who sent them to me.

But then again, she didn't even know I was stopping by.

And what reason could she have to pull such a sick prank?

Hey,

sorry about being so weird earlier.

I'm happy to see you.

She tilted her head.

Yeah.

What was that about?

I shrugged.

Been a little stressed out lately.

I walked over and kissed her on the top of her head.

So,

what are we making?

I asked, pointing to the vegetables she had laid out on the counter.

Your last meal.

What?

Veggie lasagna.

Why are you looking at me like that?

I grabbed her by the arm.

What did you say before that?

Vegetarian lasagna.

She enunciated each word.

She shook her head and handed me a knife.

Can you chop up an onion?

Emma changed the topic and started cheerily chatting about all kinds of things that were happening in her life.

A boy she started dating.

How happy she was that she was finally on summer break from college and what her friends were up to.

All the time, I was only half listening.

The loud ticking of the kitchen clock in the background numbing out everything else.

I was going mad.

That was it.

Either that or my sister had a really fucking sick sense of humor.

My pulse started racing, the feeling of nausea washing over me.

Hello, Liam.

Emma pulled me out of my thought jungle.

Are you just gonna keep standing there, or

it will take at least 40 minutes in the oven?

I hadn't even noticed that everything was finished, and that Emma was already loading up the dishwasher.

Um, I think.

I think I'm going to take a quick nap, I mumbled and headed to my room.

I can't say how long I slept, but it must have been much longer than half an hour because when I opened my eyes again, it was already dark outside.

Groggily, I made my way to the kitchen, but it was empty.

No sight of Emma.

So I headed to the living room where I saw that the table was already set.

I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn't imagining things.

The table wasn't set for a simple dinner.

Red candles were burning in ancient iron candle holders.

In the middle of the table was a photo frame, surrounded by pamphlets.

Emma?

I shouted, but there was no response.

A knot started forming in my gut as I walked close to the table and picked up the frame.

The picture inside was a black and white version of a photo of me, taken last year on my birthday.

The pamphlets were for different funeral homes in town.

The photo frame slid from my hand to the floor, glass splintering and pieces flying in all directions.

It felt as if everything was happening in slow motion.

My heart was racing so hard I was sure it would break out of my chest.

Emma!

I shouted, even louder than before.

Emma, where are you?

What the fuck is this?

It's not fucking funny.

There was not one sound coming from inside the house.

I raced up the stairs and passed her room, but it was empty.

So I went into mine to get my phone.

I needed to send my parents photos of this because something was definitely not right with my sister.

I found my phone on my nightstand and realized that I had five missed calls from my mother.

A lump settled in my throat.

With shaky hands, I called my mother and slumped down on the bed.

Her voice was merely a whisper.

Mom, thank God, are you okay?

Your sister called me earlier and got me really worried.

She said you showed up out of nowhere and started acting a little strange.

And then you wouldn't pick up the phone.

I swallowed.

No, I'm not acting strange, Mom.

Emma is.

She's going mad or something.

She's playing mind games with me.

Stop.

You sound just like Ben.

Liam, honey, you really scared her.

I huffed out a laugh.

That witch had called my parents to tell them some dumb story, painting me as the crazy one.

Who the hell's Ben?

Okay, I have no idea what she's told you, but I'm actually worried about her.

Okay, she did something really...

Wait,

I'll just show you.

I switched the call to video and made my way back to the living room so my mother could see the insane funeral preparations my sister had been crafting.

But as I walked into the room,

it was all gone.

No candles.

No photo.

No pamphlets.

On the table was the dish with half-eaten lasagna and a clean plate with cutlery.

She made your dinner?

That's what you're so riled up for.

No, Mom, this wasn't here just yet.

She must have moved to Emma.

Leo, your sister sister is not home.

Emma!

She called me an hour ago on her way to her friend Layla.

My mind was blank.

My mother kept talking to me, but I didn't know how to respond.

And I started wondering if I was the one making this all up.

Another form of fear came over me when I worried that my own mind couldn't be trusted.

Finally, I apologized to my mother and made up some excuses about me being tired and groggy, and that I didn't mean to scare Emma.

It took a while, but finally, she reluctantly hung up.

I started talking myself into believing that I was wrong.

That my little sister was probably just looking forward to a simple dinner with me, and I had scared her so much that she took off to stay with a friend instead of her own home.

And I might have truly believed that

if it weren't for the red wax stains on the table.

16:

The Funeral, Part 2.

Now that that took a turn, didn't it?

I sense a bit of sibling rivalry in our midst.

Apologies for the interruption.

I have some mothering of my own to do.

Always leave some food out for the neighborhood cats, and I'm getting the sense that they're a bit hungry.

Make yourself at home, and I'll be right back.

The Toxic Avenger is out now.

Experience the long-awaited, totally unrated monster mayhem exclusively in theaters.

Get tickets now at tickets.toxicavenger.com.

Why, hello there.

You've reached the antiquarium.

If you wish to leave a message, please do so with the town and have a great day.

Hi, I um thoroughly enjoyed the candies that were sent with my last package,

but um

I

kind of started getting a writhing, wriggling under my skin.

I think it's

worms

or

something.

I'm kind of getting a little freaked out.

Nobody else seems to see it but me.

Could somebody get back to me, please?

I'm really kind of freaking out here.

I think I'm starting to see it in my eyes.

I think I might need to pull him out.

I think I'm going to pull him out.

I'm going to pull him out.

End of messages.

Thanks for your patience.

I figure it's about time we heard Emma's side of the story.

Let's get back to this tempest in a teacup, shall we?

16.

The funeral.

Part 2.

My brother has been using the same password for almost every account for years.

It really wasn't that difficult to get in here.

Now, it's time for my side of the story.

As children, my brother and I weren't very close.

He's three years older, and when we were growing up, I always wanted to be like him.

I did the same sports, listened to the same bands, and begged him to take me to every event he went to, but it all only seemed to annoy him.

In his eyes, I was a child, following his every step and making him look uncool in front of his friends.

Touche.

But as we got older, that changed.

He started seeing me as an actual person, especially after he moved out.

He'd invite me to his place when I was fed up with my parents because I was still living at home after high school.

I called him crying after my boyfriend broke up with me and he talked to me until I was finally laughing again.

He started becoming the big brother I'd always wanted.

Until yesterday.

When everything suddenly changed.

Now I'm afraid of my own brother and I don't know what to do.

Liam showed up out of the blue, something he's never done before.

He's usually too busy with work to just stop by on a whim, and when he visits, he always calls before.

So I was pleasantly surprised, but also a little worried when he was standing in the hallway that connects our rooms.

He didn't seem happy at all to see me and kept pressing me about something he found in my room.

My black dress.

He seemed to get angry at the sight of it, and that triggered something in me that he couldn't have known about.

Because it was the dress I was wearing to his funeral.

Well, not literally, of course.

I mean, my brother is alive.

But lately, I kept having the same recurring dream.

It started a few weeks ago, with no apparent reason.

There was a service where a man who didn't know my brother was talking about what an astonishing but far too short life he lived.

Then he went to the graveyard where his gravestone was already prepared and a hole was dug up.

I would be holding the teddy rabbit he once gifted me, digging my nails deep into the fake fur.

It was the same each time, and each time I'd wake up with my face drenched in tears.

So when I saw my brother at home, all I wanted was to hug him, but he wasn't acting like my brother at all.

He was standoffish and cold, all because of some dress that couldn't possibly mean anything to him.

I couldn't tell him that I'd put it there to throw it out because the dream had left me with a sick feeling each time.

I didn't want to burden him or even scare him, so I made up an excuse and left him alone to start making dinner.

He even joined me later, apologized, and started acting more normal.

At least, that's that's what I thought, until he told me he would be going upstairs for a nap.

I finished everything in the kitchen and set a timer for the food when I got this strange feeling.

It felt like the temperature had suddenly dropped several degrees.

I was just about to head to the living room when I noticed the sound of shallow breathing from behind me.

Slowly, I turned my head and almost screamed when I noticed my brother peeking from behind the doorframe.

Liam, God, you almost gave me a heart attack.

I thought you were taking a nap.

I put my hand on my chest, taking slow breaths to calm my heart, but my brother stayed silent, watching me with a joyless smile on his face.

What are you planning, little Emma?

He finally asked, moving closer toward me.

What are you talking about?

You gave me that knife earlier.

What did you want me to do with it?

I didn't know how to answer that.

Did you want me to cut my own wrists with it?

He asked, his voice dropping.

He was now standing right in front of me, looking at me through his lower lashes.

Liam, what the hell?

I shrieked, trying to push him away with my palms, but he grabbed my wrists and kept me in place.

I'm just joking, Em.

Don't we both like to joke?

With that, he let go of me and turned around.

Liam used to play pranks on me a lot when we were younger.

There was a time when he was around 15 and I was 13 when he'd prank call the house with his cell when our parents weren't home, talking in strange voices to scare me.

He'd usually only stop when I started crying.

It was messed up, but that's what siblings do.

They annoy each other.

But we're not teens anymore, and he was really freaking me out.

I even thought about calling my parents, but There wasn't much they could do from so far away, and I didn't want to worry them with something that was probably nothing.

So I went to the living room and watched some TV while the food was cooking in the oven.

Those words he said about cutting his wrists kept repeating in my mind.

Was it a threat or a cry for help?

I fell asleep on the sofa, the image of the casket appearing in a dream.

When I opened my eyes, a gasp escaped from my lips.

My heart skipped a beat when I noticed that Liam was sitting beside me.

Why are you crying?

Bad dream, I mumbled, rubbing my eyes with the backside of my hand.

I took a deep breath.

Maybe it would help if I simply told him what was actually going on with me.

That way he might back off from his strange act.

Even when he was being an annoying brother, he would always snap out of it whenever I was actually in trouble.

I held on to that, to the fact that my brother loved me and wouldn't want to see me distressed.

Listen,

there's something I need to tell you.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

He draped one leg over the other and leaned his head on his fist, looking like a ridiculous caricature of a therapist.

I'm listening.

I've been having this really terrible nightmare.

At first, it was only now and then, but now I see it every time I go to sleep.

It's

a funeral.

At this, his eyes opened wide and he started smiling.

Actually smiling at the word funeral.

Your funeral.

I know it's crazy, but I've been wondering whether my subconscious is trying to tell me something and seeing that you're now suddenly here and acting so off,

I'm worried about you, Liam.

He nodded several times.

Well,

there's quite an easy solution to your little pickle, isn't there?

You can't be at my funeral if you die first.

And the gravestone said 2024,

so I suppose we don't have much time.

A bitter taste filled my mouth.

What are you talking about?

What gravestone?

I know you're planning something.

I'm not fucking stupid.

He started shouting, but then he closed his eyes and formed his hands into tight fists.

He loudly breathed out.

And when he spoke again, his voice was calm and collected.

I don't want mom and dad to come home to a bloodbath.

You can do us both a favor and just leave.

Leave and never come back.

With that last sentence in the air, he got up and left the room.

I wondered if he knew that he had just ripped out my heart,

leaving only emptiness inside me.

After I collected myself, I got into the car.

I hadn't brought anything but my phone because I was too scared to go upstairs to my room.

And there was still this sense of disbelief within me.

This couldn't be my brother.

He would never say anything like that.

But whatever was going on with him, I knew he needed help.

I I just wasn't sure if I could give him the necessary kind.

So I called my mother.

I didn't tell her exactly what he said to me because that would have broken her heart, but I told her to check up on him.

Then I drove to her friend's house to stay the night.

The entire time, my mind was on my brother though, and my thoughts kept spiraling.

Only after I talked to my mother again and she told me that he was fine and that he explained to her that he'd been stressed out did I finally calm down a little?

Before that, I'd even thought about calling the police to check up on him.

I decided against it, but kept checking every few minutes if he'd been online just to make sure he was okay.

I kept it a secret from my friend and made up some excuse about having boy problems.

I just didn't know how to explain what was going on with me, and I was too ashamed to bring my brother down like that.

The following morning, I got into my car, ready to face my brother, when I suddenly got an incoming call from Liam.

Emma.

His voice sounded broken and distraught.

Emma, are you okay?

Yes, I'm fine.

Liam, how are you?

What are you doing?

I tried to sound as normal as I possibly could because I knew that freaking out wouldn't help him.

There was a loud sigh on the other end.

He nervously laughed.

I don't know what's going on.

I don't know what my mind is doing to me.

I'm sorry.

It's okay, Liam.

You're okay.

Just stay home.

I'll be there soon and we can talk, okay?

I heard papers shuffling in the background.

I'm not at home.

I'm at the library.

Library?

Yeah, I've been here all morning.

Emma, just listen to me, please.

After you disappeared last night, mom called me, worried, sick about you.

She mentioned someone named Ben.

So I went through your laptop, but I couldn't find anyone with that name.

I'm so sorry.

I was just really freaking the fuck out.

But then I remembered something grandpa mentioned once before he passed away about a son.

His name was Ben.

He was mom's older brother.

Even then, I thought it was weird that she never mentioned it, but grandpa was dying, and it didn't feel like the right time to talk about it, you know?

Ma'am, calm down.

Mom had a brother?

What is this all about?

He died, Emma, when he was my age.

And he wasn't the only one.

Our family tree is filled with people who died at a young age.

This whole time, I thought you were messing with me, but I believe there's something far more fucked up going on.

Had my brother finally lost his mind, or was there really more to it?

Did you talk to mom about this?

No, I don't trust her right now.

I'm headed home now.

Can you meet me there?

There's something I really need to show you.

For a minute, there was silence between us.

Please, Emma, I don't want to hurt you.

Please, Emma.

This is it.

This is the real story of what's happened so far.

And now, I'm going to see my brother.

To be continued

Q

B

B

E

V

J

X

U

C

M

Y

J

S

X

U

I

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 antiquariumshop 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 056, The Funeral.

Written by Like I Did, starring Melissa Medina as Emma, Romy Evans as Mother, Trevor Shand as Liam, 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 Abishek.

The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings is created and curated by Trevor and Lauren Shand.

Follow us on Instagram and Twitter at AntiquariumPod.

Call the Antiquarium at 646-481-7197.

Hello, and welcome to the world of Scare You to Sleep.

I'm your host, Shelby Novak, a show for those of us who need something a little stronger than counting sheep, who find horror to be a strangely relaxing escape.

Here you'll find a myriad of fright-filled tales, from fictional to true stories, to high strangeness to guided nightmares, where I take you on a journey through your own personal nightmare.

So come get lost in the terror with me.

Listen to Scare You to Sleep wherever you listen to podcasts.

Sweet screams.