The Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings Presents: Nightmare Soup

Today's episode is brought to you by Good Boy, a new haunted house film told entirely from a dog's perspective.

When Indy the dog moves into a rural home with his owner, he discovers supernatural forces lurking in the shadows.

As dark entities threaten his human companion, this brave pup must fight to protect the ones he loves most.

Don't miss the canine performance everyone is talking about.

See Indy in Good Boy, only in theaters October 3rd.

Get tickets today at goodboy.movie.

Today's episode is sponsored by I Know What You Did Last Summer.

Get it now on digital.

When five friends inadvertently cause a deadly car accident, they cover up their involvement and make a pact to keep it a secret rather than face the consequences.

A year later, their past comes back to haunt them, and they're forced to confront a horrifying truth.

Someone knows what they did last summer and is hell-bent on revenge.

As one by one, the friends are stalked by a killer.

They discover this happened before, so they turn to two survivors of the legendary Southport massacre of 1997 for help.

Starring Madeline Klein, Chase Sue Wonders, Jonah Hauer King, with Freddie Prince Jr., and Jennifer Love Hewitt.

I know what you did last summer is a perfect summer slasher, says Jordan Crucciolo of NPR.

Your summer is not over yet.

Don't miss a killer movie night at home.

Ah, hello there, friend.

Always a joy to see you.

The AC just went out, and.

My, oh my, it's hotter than Satan's house cat in here.

I feel awful subjecting you to this horrible inconvenience.

Listen, while I do my due diligence and get things back up and running, a new diner just opened a few doors down from here, and it's an absolute ice box.

In fact, it might just chill you to the bone.

It's called the Midnight Bite,

and they would be happy to have you.

The antiquarium will be back open for business next week.

Until then, there's a table at the Midnight Bite under your name.

Tell them I sent you, and be sure to try their nightmare soup.

It's their speciality.

Follow Bloody FM's Nightmare Soup wherever you do your podcasts.

I am the watcher, I am the watcher, the shadow's my home.

And I emerge at night, the dark is where I roam.

And then by clearing to your house, I swatch at your door.

I am the side,

the creak of your floor.

Nothing you can say, nothing you can do.

So just get ready for some nightmares soon.

I'm telling you, that song is from the 80s.

There's no way.

It's on the radio now constantly.

Midnight Oil is an 80s Australian band.

Maybe you're listening to oldies.

You nitwin.

You can tell it's from the 80s.

They sing the song like this.

Whatever.

That's a burning is a banger.

Where is this waitress?

I am going to eat my hand.

What can I get you?

Whoa.

What's good here?

The stories.

Hmm?

What in the world could this be?

A small package was sitting just outside the front door of Jenna's house.

There was no address written on it.

No postage,

no markings whatsoever.

She lightly bit her lip, apprehensive at the thought of bringing a mystery package into her house.

But that only lasted a few seconds, as her curiosity soon took over.

Was this an early birthday present?

Maybe a surprise from one of her friends.

She picked the package up and brought it inside,

shaking it a bit before placing it on the kitchen table.

It wasn't heavy and didn't seem that fragile.

Maybe it was that magnetic desk ornament she had ordered months ago that never showed up.

As she tore away the brown paper covering, a small wooden box was revealed.

It was fashioned into the shape of an old coffin, like something a vampire would sleep in.

This is a bit creepy.

Jenna slowly cracked it open, revealing a faded brown doll.

It was crudely stitched together and had buttons for eyes.

Even stranger, it had a little hat that oddly resembled one Jenna liked to wear.

Okay,

now it's really creepy.

She immediately picked up her phone and fired off a text message to her best friend.

Very funny, Julie.

Was the voodoo doll supposed to be an early Halloween prank or something?

Julie responded almost immediately.

Voodoo doll?

What are you talking about?

I didn't send you anything.

Jenna looked back at the doll with its stitched-in smile lying on the table.

Someone was playing a trick on her.

She just had to figure out who.

She poured a glass of iced water and sat down to send more text messages.

But with her eyes locked on her cell phone instead of the glass, she accidentally tipped it over, spilling cold liquid all over the place.

One of the ice cubes slid over to the right arm of the voodoo doll.

As soon as it touched the fabric, an instant freezing sensation shocked Jenna's skin.

Jenna backed away from the table in disbelief.

That's not possible.

Her lips were trembling as she watched the ice cube melt next to the doll.

She grabbed another ice cube from the freezer, her hand trembling from fear and the cold.

She slowly walked up to the doll and touched its left arm with the ice.

Again a frigid chill burned on her skin.

Jenna stumbled backwards, catching herself on the kitchen counter.

Her entire body was was shaking with terror as her mind tried to comprehend what was happening.

She walked over to the doll and placed it inside the box it came in.

She needed to put it somewhere safe until she figured out what to do.

As she walked out of the kitchen and turned the corner, she tripped on her dog Zeus.

a large German shepherd who was lying in the family room.

Jenna crashed to the floor, sending the the box with the voodoo doll flying across the room.

The box hit a bookshelf, snapping open the wooden lid and causing the doll to tumble down violently.

As soon as it hit the hardwood flooring, a sharp pain erupted from Jenna's lower back, causing her to cry out in agony.

She got to her knees, then tried to crawl towards the doll.

But when she looked up, she saw Zeus standing over it.

No!

Zeus, please!

Come here!

Leave the doll alone!

But Zeus didn't listen.

He sniffed the doll a few times and wagged his tail.

It had been a long time since he got a new chew toy.

That's um.

Yeah, we're really just looking for some food.

You know, like eggs.

Two eggs.

Maybe a waffle.

You have a menu.

Maybe she can help us.

She's busy.

Hey.

Excuse me.

Mich, I'm talking to you.

Said a greasy, heavy-set man.

Katie rolled her eyes as she walked past the booth.

Then she took a breath, forced a smile, and turned around.

Yes.

What can I do for you this time?

I'm sorry, but this chicken nose soup is just unacceptable.

It's not hot enough, and it tastes like the cheap stuff you buy at the value market.

I thought this was supposed to be homemade.

It is, sir.

Well, can you have your cook try again?

Surely he can do better than whatever this is.

Sure thing.

We'll get another bowl out to you as soon as possible.

Tell them not to use as much salt.

My dog wouldn't even eat this.

Katie grabbed the bowl and walked back to the kitchen.

I hate to do this to you, Johnny, but the guy says he wants another bowl of soup.

He says this one's too salty or

not hot enough.

It doesn't taste right.

Something like that.

What?

This will be the third one.

Johnny threw his arms up in the air, frustrated and tired.

He was a skinny, middle-aged man with a quick temper.

He was also the owner of the struggling diner.

You and I both know there's nothing wrong with that soup.

Everyone loves my soup.

I swear, some people make it their mission in life to be jerks.

I've been serving this guy for over an hour.

Can you give it one more try?

I really need the tip money.

Even though I doubt this guy is much of a tipper.

Katie was a college student who needed every dollar she could make.

She was pretty, but always looked a little run down from being overworked, studying too much, and not getting enough sleep.

Yeah, I'll give him one more.

Guy thinks he can come in here and insult my food.

It's almost closing time.

I'm tired and ready to go home.

Here you go, Mr.

Food Critic.

Johnny poured another bowl of broth and noodles

and then added some different spices and some vegetables.

It smelled and looked fantastic.

And one more ingredient.

Johnny peeled a large sliver of dry dead skin.

skin off his nose and dropped it into the soup.

You're not seriously gonna serve that,

right?

I certainly am.

I'm the boss, and I am not making another bowl.

That guy deserves it.

He's one of those people who thinks servers and cooks are just slaves to be ordered around.

Katie looked at the soup for a good ten seconds, trying to decide what to do.

Fine,

just because I'm ready to go home.

Edie walked down to the front of the diner where the man was waiting.

He was the only customer left in the place.

Finally, took you long enough.

Katie bit her lip, fighting back the urge to say something in response.

The man grabbed a spoon, holding it like a caveman,

and then slurped up some soup in a disgustingly loud fashion.

By the way he was devouring it, Katie could tell he was finally satisfied.

This is absolutely delicious.

Well worked awake.

The herbs and spices,

they are delightful.

Soup was spilling from the bowl onto the table as the man lapped it up like a hungry animal.

Once he was finished, he got up, paid with a ridiculously large tip and left without saying a word.

It was one of the oddest customer experiences Katie ever had.

The next night, the man returned.

He promptly sat in the same booth and waited for Katie to take his order.

Not this guy again.

Hey, good to see you again.

What can I get you tonight?

The man tapped his fingers together in anticipation.

I'll take the chicken noodle soup again, please.

Tell the chef to make it exactly like he did last night.

Alrighty.

We'll get that out to you here in a bit.

Heedy walked back to the kitchen and leaned up against the wall.

You'll never guess who's back.

Chicken noodle soup guy.

Johnny threw his head back in disgust.

Seriously?

He says he wants the chicken noodle soup.

Just like he made it last night.

Has he been less of a jerk so far?

Yeah.

Not too bad.

Okay, well, we'll spare him the skin soup this time.

Johnny whipped up a batch of chicken noodle soup minus the dead skin flakes

and served it up.

Katie delivered it to the anxious man.

In fact, he was sweating with excitement.

One bowl of chicken noodle soup.

Here you go.

Enjoy.

The man quickly slurped up a spoonful right as Katie placed it on the table.

Wait.

This

is wrong.

She's missing something.

This is not exactly as it was last night.

I want the exact same

recipe.

I, um,

okay.

I'll tell the kitchen

Katie placed the uneaten bowl of soup in front of Johnny unsure of what to say Seriously he's sending this back again

he says he wants it exactly like it was at the end of the night frustrated and insulted Johnny nodded his head slowly

This guy wants exactly the same thing, huh?

That's fine.

I'll give him exactly what he wants

Johnny scraped some dead skin from his forehead and sprinkled it into the soup like it was table salt.

There you go.

Serve it up.

Katie brought the bowl to the man in the booth.

He quickly tasted it, looked at Katie with a large, jagged smile,

and drank down the soup in a matter of seconds.

Yes.

Delicious.

Marvelous.

He then immediately got up, paid with another extremely large tip, and left without saying a word.

The man came back every night for two weeks, and each time he brought along a friend who was just as odd and equally as rude.

Soon the diner was packed every evening with these strange customers, all demanding the special chicken noodle soup.

Something was seriously off about these people, but business was better than ever.

So Johnny gave them exactly what they wanted.

Katie knew it was wrong.

But the tips were so incredibly good that she just

ignored her conscience.

Then one night, Katie walked back into the kitchen and noticed Johnny rubbing some lotion on himself.

His arms, face, and neck were raw from peeling off skin.

He was using himself like a human cheese grater.

Johnny, this is insane.

Look at what you're doing to yourself.

Johnny hung his head for a moment.

I know, this is crazy, but business was so good, I...

I just couldn't stop.

Katie walked towards the door.

I'm gonna tell them the soup is no longer available, alright?

They can order something else or leave.

Katie walked out into the crowded diner, where all of the strange characters were anxiously waiting.

I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but we will no longer be serving the chicken noodle soup.

I'm very sorry.

We're um

out of the special ingredients.

The customers started yelling and screaming.

The original chicken soup man stood up, his eyes fiery and intense.

You don't understand.

We need our soup.

We need it now.

The other customers continued to to scream and yell.

Johnny could hear everything from the kitchen.

His temper started to rise.

And a couple of seconds later, he completely lost it.

He burst through the door and yelled at the top of his lungs.

It was skin.

My skin.

The secret ingredient you love so much was my gross, dead skin sprinkled into your soup.

How do you like that, huh?

You come in here every night rude and demanding, treating my waitress horribly?

Yeah, you tip her well, so what?

Doesn't mean you can be complete jerks.

No more soup.

No more skin soup.

You can all leave now.

Goodbye.

But all the customers just sat there silently.

The chicken soup man stood up again.

His stare was cold and unnatural.

Wait.

It was your

skin?

That tasted

so good?

So.

delectable?

Johnny looked around in confusion.

Uh,

yeah,

I guess so.

You can all leave leave now.

Sue me, do whatever you like.

I'm done with the restaurant business.

Please leave.

The man took a step forward and started to drool.

It made the soup so

savory.

Like a rare spice.

It was delicious.

Magnificent.

A wondrous journey for the taste bud.

I must have more.

And look,

everyone,

look at all that delicious skin he still has.

Johnny took a step back.

You're creeping me out, man.

I know what I did was horrible, but the restaurant is closed.

There's the door.

The chicken soup man took another step forward as all the other customers silently stood up,

each one of them salivating and biting their lips.

But we can't leave.

Oh no!

We're still hungry.

And there is so much of that

succulent, tasty skin to go around.

Enough for all of us.

Katie realized something horrible was about to happen as the diners lumbered toward Johnny like zombies.

Suddenly, the chicken soup man rushed forward with a ravenous, gut-wrenching scream.

The other customers sprinted right behind him.

Johnny tried to go for the back door, but there were just too many of them.

Katie stumbled out of the front entrance, screaming so loudly she almost popped her own eardrums.

She fell hard on the concrete of the parking lot and looked back to see the diners devouring Johnny, feasting on his skin like a rare delicacy

and smiling like it was the best meal of their lives.

She sprinted down the road, looking for help.

The sound of Johnny's horrific screams fresh in her mind.

As well

as the stench of hot,

savory

chicken noodle soup.

Water up!

Hi, y'all.

It's Daisy with your ad break.

Okay, back to the show.

Look, I think we're just gonna get going.

Here's like five bucks, you know, for your time.

I think there's a chicken place down the block.

Yeah,

I feel like we've been here for days, but that might be the booze.

I

am the watcher.

The shadows are my home.

I emerge at night.

The dark is where I roam.

I creep up to your house and I scratch at your door.

I'm the sound in your basement.

The creep

of your floor.

I watch from your window while you sleep in your bed.

I'm the phantom that stalks you,

filling you

with dread.

When you walk alone, I follow with glee.

There's nowhere to hide.

There's nowhere to flee.

One day, I'll strike and the game will be done.

But for now,

I just watch.

It's so

much

more fun!

I'm watching you now.

Go ahead.

Take a look.

You'll never see me.

So just keep reading

that book.

Yeah, I have work pretty early if you just scoot out of our personal space here.

We'll just get going.

You know what?

Here's a ten.

I think I have a couple of singles.

You can't leave now.

You haven't heard the specials.

We haven't heard anything.

You told us a story, and then that nut ran over here and just spouted gibberish.

I'm so confused.

You haven't

heard

the specials.

Okay,

lay it on us.

All right, everyone.

Today we have a new student in class.

Please welcome Mariana from Brazil.

Mr.

Anderson motioned towards the back row, causing everyone to turn in their seats.

A shy, timid girl wearing a beanie sat quietly at her desk.

She brushed the jet black hair away from her eyes and awkwardly raised her hand in acknowledgement.

Hello.

Even with only one word spoken, her accent was easy to pick up.

It's incredibly tough moving to a new place, let alone a new high school in a new country.

Let's make Mariana feel right at home.

Mr.

Anderson then went right into the day's lesson.

Dude, she's really cute.

Logan leaned over and whispered to his friend Drew.

You don't have to tell me.

I have eyes, too.

Something you want to share with the class, Drew?

Drew snapped forward and straightened his posture.

No, Mr.

Anderson.

I'm good.

Okay, then.

As I was saying,

zombies are, in fact, real.

Drew's attention immediately went back to the lecture.

What?

No, they aren't.

Mr.

Anderson smiled.

Well, maybe not the zombies you think of when you watch Night of the Living Dead.

But in the insect world, zombies absolutely exist.

Mr.

Anderson pulled out a large glass ant farm from behind his desk.

Look at this ant.

It's infected with a fungus called Ophiocordyceps unilateralis.

Ophicordo...

what?

Drew and the other curious students walked up to look.

The spores from the fungus attach to the ant and start eating through its exoskeleton.

The fungus then spreads throughout the ant's body and even to its brain, where it takes complete control.

It forces the ant to move to a location where the fungus can grow.

After that, something really gross happens.

A fungus stalk erupts from the ant's head and releases more spores into the air, thereby continuing the process all over.

If you look closely, you can see the stalk I'm talking about.

Pretty soon, the fungus will spread, creating more zombie ants.

Remember the whole ordeal with the botfly, Mr.

Anderson?

Why do you keep bringing stuff like this in?

Don't worry, Logan.

This can't infect humans.

And I bring it in because I think it's fascinating.

Mr.

Anderson gestured towards the back of the group.

Mariana.

Did you know this type of fungus is found primarily in Brazil?

Mariana slowly nodded.

Mm-hmm.

Made a young girl sick.

Everyone in the class immediately backed away from the ant farm.

Now, Mariana, I'm pretty sure that's impossible.

This fungus only infects carpenter ants.

No.

The girl was from my town.

I remember.

Mr.

Anderson didn't quite know how to respond.

But before he could say anything, the bell rang and the students quickly grabbed their books and exited.

Hey, Mr.

Anderson, let's see what those ants look like now.

A week had passed, and Drew was eager to see if the ant farm had transformed into a micro-zombie apocalypse.

You guys really want to see?

Mr.

Anderson grinned.

The whole class nodded.

and walked to the front of the room.

This type of experiment was exactly why everyone loved his class.

As soon as Mr.

Anderson pulled out the ant farm, every corner of the room gasped.

The fungus had completely taken over, turning the glass display into a grotesque collection of ant corpses covered in mold-like spores.

It was disgusting.

Logan piped up from the side of the room.

You're sure this stuff is safe, right?

Yes, Logan, I did my research.

It can't hurt you.

The next day, however, Mr.

Anderson found that five students were out sick.

Then on Wednesday, that number increased to twelve.

And on Thursday, it was twenty.

By Friday, Mariana was the only student in class.

And by this time,

even Mr.

Anderson wasn't feeling well.

Mariana, that girl from your town,

are you sure the fungus is what made her ill?

She raised her head from her desk.

I am sure.

How is that possible?

It's only supposed to infect ants.

Mariana adjusted her beanie and stood up.

She walked over to Mr.

Anderson and examined his pale, sweating skin.

In my town,

it has evolved to infect humans.

What?

How do you know that?

Ah, well,

the ant farm did not make everyone sick.

I did.

Mariana slowly removed the beanie.

As her black hair fell, Mr.

Anderson stumbled out of his chair and backed away in terror.

A large cauliflower-shaped stalk jutted out of Mariana's skull like a grotesque tumor.

It glistened under the classroom lights, covered in dark brown mucus.

It throbbed and pulsated as it expanded in size,

all the while shooting tiny spores into the air around her.

The girl from the town

was me.

Mariana sat down next to Mr.

Anderson as he trembled on the floor, his skin burning as more spores burrowed into his flesh.

Don't worry, Mr.

Anderson.

You and the others will all be part of the colony

soon.

This episode of Nightmare Soup was written by Chris Feinstein, based on the works of Jake Try, and illustrated by Andy Suzoka.

Stevie was played by Chris Harris Beache.

Mark was played by Chris Feinstein.

Betty was Nicole Doomer.

Billy was Atticus Jackson.

Jenna was played by Ashley Jones, and Julie was played by Daisy McNamara.

The chicken soup man was Jesse Hall, and Johnny was played by Scott Paladin.

Katie was played by Bailey Wolfe.

Drew was Dustin Parsons.

Logan was Kayla Tempshiff.

Mariana was Rissa Montenez, and Mr.

Anderson was John Grills.

Our dialogue editor was Dustin Parson.

Sound design was by Jenny Snyder.

Original music was by Matt Royberger, featuring the voice of Melissa Lusk.

I'm your showrunner, Daisy McNamara.

Our creative director is Pacific S.

Obudaya, and our executive producers are Tom Owen and Brad Niska.

And this is a Bloody FM Show.

For more information, visit bloody.fm.com.