Lot 113 : Alex

A mortar to desire, the ability to imagine it as if it's happening,

“to experience it as if it is happening while nothing is happening,”

and everything is happening at the same time. [laughs] Now then, a book, hard leather cover, no publishers mark, no internal index, only a single word pressed into the front, a name, Alex, and you best believe it is calling yours. 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. Reason Initiates Include, Matt, Shantel Booth, Mary E. West, Dan Macgrin-Coloss, Sasha Smith, Torrey Selzny, L.C. Red, and Abbey the Enchantress. We are ever appreciative of your devotion to the order. Go to the Obsidian Covenant.com to receive the sacrament. [laughs]

Sounds harmless enough, right?

Welcome to the Antiquarium of Sinister Happenings.

And I'm going on.

“I remember stumbling through the forest at night.”

I was on my hands and knees, the gun had fallen for my hand, and I could feel the dirt and snow between my fingers. Not too far off was a faint light. I squinted, focused on the ground beneath me. That that moment I heard a sound. It sounded as if it were moving away.

It wasn't possible to focus. I had no idea where the noise was coming from or where it was going or what was making it, but it was close. My fingers brushed against the hard metal object.

“The gun, I had found it, picked it up, and brought myself to my feet.”

When I rose, the light was no longer visible. I flinched suddenly, a gunshot. I saw a burst of light far away. I listened carefully. There was another bang quickly followed by four more in rapid succession.

Briefly, tating the scene with splotches of light. Then I heard another sound, a wild, desperate scream. It was silenced only moments later. I couldn't care less about the gunshot or the scream, or even the ominous sounds around me. I had to get out of the cold.

I began walking towards the scream. To war the location of the light that was now extinguished. I walked and soon found myself on the edge of a clearing. In the middle of the clearing, it was a small decrepit wooden cabin. The cabin seemed to tilt right, then left, and focus in and out.

It was becoming hard to stay conscious. But I had to keep walking. I stumbled against the door. As soon as I stepped inside, the sounds from the forest cut off.

That was all I remember from that night.

That's all I remember at all.

“The memory of where I was, or how I got in there, eludes me.”

I awoke on a cold wooden floor lying face down. My face ate, and my muscles were tense. I sat up and looked around. The cabin was a single room, and a complete mess. Old books, papers, and various objects were strewn about.

It was charcoal in the fireplace. Some of it burned. The rest scattered across the hearth is if someone had tried to extinguish the fire in a hurry. There was a rucksack, cropped up against the wall next to the fireplace.

It was a standard green and brown model with dozens of miscellaneous items tied to the side

objects that were too large to fit adequately into the main compartment. A large roll of fabric, metal pod, and a small hatchet hanging off the back. I examined the items briefly, then reached for the zipper and pulled it open. I threw its contents onto the floor.

“I saw tightly package rolls of clothing, bags and bottles and cans and packages.”

None of these were immediately useful to me. None of these told me where I was or even who I was. I reached for a smaller pocket on the outside of the rucksack. Inside was a book. Finally, information.

I pulled out the book and looked at the hard leather cover. Alex. There was no title, no dates, and besides the name on the cover, it was entirely unadorned. Judging by the survival equipment in the rucksack, whoever this Alex was. Their situation must have surely been similar to my own.

I could only hope this book contained useful information. I opened the first page. The survivor with no name must be shot on sight. It was an absurdly vague point.

“It had made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.”

My name was the thing that had eluded me the most. My life and my experiences were incomprehensible blurs of emotion, but at least I could recognize the emotions for what they were. My identity, however, was a complete void. Or it could be the purpose of that warning I thought.

Perhaps the person who wouldn't say their name could not be trusted. No. It couldn't be that simple. The list went on for an incredible amount of pages, and each note seemed more absurd than the last.

At some point I had stopped reading the notebook all together, and was simply trying to make sense of what it was about. The points were all about staying safe, not trusting people, and avoiding infection. Some were common sense, like, no one where your north is,

but others were far stranger, like, only ever cutting your hair outdoors,

and always cutting it as short as possible to avoid contamination.

My own hair was quite short, now. I wondered whether this rule may have been common knowledge for me at some point, but why couldn't I remember? I closed the book and leaned back. I looked down at the leather cover.

Alex, I thought to myself, "My name is Alex. It was simple, really. If I didn't have a name, I would take one for myself until I could remember my real name.

Alex, it was as good a name as any. Then, if anyone were to ask my name, I could say it. Then the rule would be satisfied. Whatever the reason behind the note, I knew it was important to have a name.

Alex, I said it out loud to see how natural I could make it sound. Alex, I repeated what is your name? I said as if speaking to a stranger, it's Alex. I looked back at the notebook. Alex was my name.

It was theirs, the owner of the rock sack. My real name was lost.

but at least I could give myself one. I could start somewhere. Whoever the real Alex was, he was dead. And here I was.

“Searching through his stuff and stealing his name.”

I told myself it didn't matter anymore. I was startled suddenly. A knock on the door. Then three more. I shot up and scrambled to the entrance, searching for the gun.

I had dropped the night before. I found it and robbed my hand around the handle. But before I could get up, the door opened. Your name, what is it?

I've always said from the entrance.

I turned around slowly, lifting my eyes to see the woman in the doorway. I saw through the barrel of a large shotgun. Her finger tends as I hesitated to speak. Alex, it's Alex. This art grip he's slightly in the barrel was lowered. What is your name?

Hoping to make it sound natural. Anna. She passed through the door with a quick step and shut the door behind her. Here early.

“She looked around the room with a look of mild disgust.”

The shotgun still loosen her arms pointing at the floor. Why is the fire out? I thought for a moment. There was a situation last night. I was forced to extinguish it.

She gave me a scornful look.

Your name checks out, so I suppose you're the Alex I was supposed to meet. If it weren't for that, you'd be dead. But don't think I won't be keeping an eye on you. We've a lot to talk about. What had I gotten myself into?

What was I supposed to do? I didn't know who Alex was or why Anna was expecting to meet them. I had to play along. I walked over to where Anna was standing. Do you have access to the city yet?

I had to place myself in Alex's shoes, even if I didn't know who he was or where the city was. I thought about the night before, but the gunshot. The scream. No. I don't.

It's a good thing I'm here then.

I didn't say anything. Suddenly, my arm twitched violently.

“I panicked and reached for it with my other hand, all that's still.”

My breath caught in my throat. I didn't know what the twitch was, but whatever it was, Anna was suspicious enough already. I looked up toward her expecting to see through the barrel over gun again. The shotgun was still pointing toward the ground, and her gaze was set on the fireplace. She hadn't seen the sudden movement.

The twitch. What had it been? Hmm, forgive me a moment. We appeared to have received a new entage. They do prefer these things to be logged immediately.

We'll take log. Ah, you're still with me. Good. Names do require careful handling. Shall we?

The shotgun was still pointing toward the ground, and her gaze was set on the fireplace. She hadn't seen the sudden movement. The twitch. What had it been? Anna looked at the ground for a few moments.

That spoke. We'll leave for the city as soon as the sun goes down. You're lucky they decided to give you access, Alex. My mind focused again. I tried to forget about the twitch.

The city. What city? Right, I suppose so. Security has been pretty tightly. I'm not surprised.

Confection rates are rising. I can't say I blame them. Though I had no idea what I was talking about. Right. If one of them gets inside, it's all over.

I'm glad you understand. This time, I felt it coming before it happened. Another twitch. I felt it creeping up my neck like an insect. I had to shake it away.

But if Anna saw me, what then? I didn't know what the twitch was, but I doubt it. It was anything good. I couldn't let her see. I'm gonna put my stuff in the rock sack.

Trying to hide my anxiety. Of course. As soon as I walked away, I shook my head violently to the side.

Thankfully, Anna didn't see. Before I began picking up the items of the rock sack, I scrambled to find the journal. As soon as I found it, I flipped to the page I'd last read.

As if to answer my doubts, the very first sentence of the page read.

Anyone who makes unexplained sudden movements must be shot on sight. I felt sick. The journal. It was about people like me, and the more I read, the more obvious this fact became. Hemnesia is a sure sign of infection, said the final sentence of the page.

I was the enemy in this journal. But why? Why was I dangerous? The book contained nothing to explain it. I finished packing the rock sack and stood up, walking to where Anna was standing.

You ready, Alex? Yeah. I'm convinced you're not one of them, so I think we're ready to proceed.

“I'm going to give you access to the city, but you have to promise me something first.”

If you feel any symptoms, and I mean any, put a bullet in your brain before you step foot in the city. My body tends.

Alex, you have to understand what would happen if one of them got inside.

The city is the only place left if it falls, there won't be anywhere left in the world to hide. Do you promise? I didn't want to die. Surely there was another way. There had to be.

Alex, did you hear me? No. I wouldn't give up. I couldn't die yet. Not one of my past was a blur of a memory.

The way I saw it, my life had just begun. Why did it have to start in this awful nightmare? Before I could even speak, we heard a noise outside the cabin. A sudden gas, as if someone had surfaced after being underwater for too long. And a ran outside before I even had time to process as well as happening.

Quickly fall apart behind.

“We circled the cabin until we reached the wall where the sound had come from.”

There, slumped against the wall of the cabin, was a man covered in blood and snow with a rifle on his lap. His wounds were vicious and erratic. His eyes were wide and his face was pale. He looked terrified. What the hell?

Realization hit me like a train. The gunshots. The scream. He was alive. Alex, do you know who this is?

Do you know what happened? The man looked at her. Then slowly turned and looked at me. I don't know. He must have been here before I arrived.

The man held my gaze and there was something else behind his eyes. Something unmistakable and undeniable. Anger. He knew. This was Alex.

The real Alex.

“If he revealed that truth, it would be the enemy.”

No. He opened his mouth. No. I. He's one of them.

I yelled, drowning out the man's words before he could reveal his identity. I didn't even know who they were. I just had to say something. Anything. The injured man said nothing.

He simply stared up at me with the same silent judging eyes. He looked sad somehow. I saw him tense his arm around the rifle on his lap. But definitely loud sound rang out. I turned away as I felt my ears ringing.

The sound had caught me off guard and it took me a while to recover. When I looked back, the wall behind the man was covered in fresh blood. Damn it. Why do you have to reach for the rifle? Smoke was coming out of the barrel of her shotgun.

But I suppose you're right. He was probably dead meat anyway. My stomach sank. This was my fault. The real Alex was dead.

And there I was with his name and the knowledge that if he had revealed who he was. And it would have put a bullet through my chest. At least the real Alex is dead, I thought. And the information has gone with him. But the man was still breathing.

Anna had aimed low. His stomach was a mess, but he was still breathing. He opened his mouth. No. I...

Short, barely audible. But incriminating nonetheless. A moment of awful silence. There was no way out of this.

As soon as I saw the barrel of the shotgun trained on my chest, I ducked out of the way.

“The shot rang out and sent a spray of splinters around me.”

I dashed behind the corner of the cabin and ran toward the door. I had to get my pistol. Alex had gone a shotgun shell that was stomach because of me. And now Anna would do the same to me. I felt terrible, but I didn't have time to question my decision.

I brushed through the door just as I heard another shotgun blast. I lunged toward the table where my pistol was. And a charge through the door and fire. But my body was already against the ground and she had aimed too high. I triggered a bunch when I pressed it.

Even though the gun was mine, I had no memory of how to use it.

Anna adjusted her aim. The gun clicked, but nothing happened. She was out of ammunition.

“I flipped the switch on the side of my gun.”

My finger was so tenser on the trigger that the pistol fired immediately. And unexpectedly, my ears rang and I turned my head away from the light. When the smoke cleared from the pistol, I raised my head. The door was wide open and Anna was gone. I shot to my feet and ran toward the door, but before I could step outside, I saw her.

Anna was lying in the snow outside. Her shotgun was pointing up at me. Clicked toarmlessly again and again. Blood was running down her lips. After staring at me for a few moments, she dropped the shotgun and brought her hands to her neck.

It seemed only one of my shots at the target. Blood spurred it between her fingers. I stumbled backward and fell against the floor. I couldn't bear it. What had I done?

“I didn't even understand what was happening.”

What I had done to deserve this. I had acted on instinct.

I never meant to kill anyone.

I told myself again and again that I had no choice. I'm writing this now and that cursed journal, the ones that warns of people like me. But maybe I truly am the enemy. After all, I am responsible for the corpses outside. But what choice did I have?

I had to survive. The real Alex is dead. And even though it was not me who pulled the trigger, his blood is on my hands. Maybe Anna was right.

He was going to die anyway. Anna carried with her a map, more importantly, a card. Access to the city gates, it says. The twitching has gotten worse. It's almost uncontrollable now.

And there is a certain hunger growing within me. Though I don't know what it is or what it wants. Is this the infection? A book spoke of. Maybe there.

In the city, they can help me. K-C-F-S-L-G-P-M-P-P-Y-T-Y-Q-P-N-E-P-O. Thank you for your patronage. Hope you enjoyed your new relic as much as I've enjoyed passing along its sort of 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 a company by a history of bizarre and disturbing circumstances.

Maybe you'd be interested in dropping it and it's story by the shop to share with other customers. Please reach out to [email protected]. 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.

Our best customer.

You have a good night now.

The antiquarium of sinister happenings.

“Lot-1-1-3, Alex. Consigned by Cybercrustation-Zero, starring Conan Freeman, and April Consolo,”

featuring Stephen Knowles as the antique dealer.

Engineering production and sound design by Trevor Shand and Lauren Shand, theme music by the new brothers.

“Additional music by Coag, Vivek Abashek, Clement Panchau, Nicholas Reading, and Conan Freeman.”

The antiquarium of sinister happenings is created and curated by Trevor Moore and Shand.

Follow us on Instagram and Twitter @antiquariumpod. Call the antiquarium@646-41-71-97.