Lot 123 : I Found An Extremely Bizarre Internet Survey // My Roommate Has Been In The Shower For More Than Four Hours

From the director of Audity, Hokam stars Adam Scott, an a deeply monstrous horror that bloody disgusting called pure nightmare fuel that holds you firmly in its grip.

“Don't miss Hokam, the groundbreaking new horror from Damian Macarty now playing in theaters.”

Hi, my name is Trevor, I'm from the Acquisitions Department here at the Antiquarium. The Antiquarium.myshopify.com is truly the hub of the Antiquarium experience. If you've been listening closely, you might already know some of the items don't quite stay contained. Well, now, a few of the slightly less haunted ones can come home with you as well. We're about to replenish everything, new shirts, hoodies, and a few more curiosities where you probably shouldn't be letting out very soon.

And while we're on the subject of things waiting to be released, you've got one too.

You know that idea, that project, that thing that keeps sitting there in the back of your mind just out of reach because you're not sure anyone's gonna care or engage. Listen, don't overthink it, let it out. Whether you want to share your creative voice or build something that lets you leave the nine to five, Shopify removes the friction entirely. No complicated setup, no endless learning curve, just tools to make it easy and fun. Shipping stay simple to Shopify calculates everything.

Print your labels, keeps that out of the post of a slide because come on, who's got time for that.

It's time to turn your what ifs into, with Shopify today.

Sign up for your $1 per month trial today at Shopify.com/tasage. That's exclusively for you, the Antiquarium visitor.

“I believe it's what they call an anagram.”

I might be using that word totally wrong, but go with me. Shopify.com/tasage. That's shopify.com/tasage. Enjoy the lot you're about to be taken home today, and remember, no refunds, no exchanges. Today's episode is presented by Corporate Retreat. In theaters may 22nd via Western Film Services and Passage Pictures. Described as a gory mix of the menu and saw, Corporate Retreat centers around a group of young executives whose luxury team building trip

descends into a bloody fight for survival against a vengeful retreat leader, played by the special make-up effects handled by Candyman and Screen 4 Maestro, Gary G. Tonecliffe. You'll laugh, you'll cringe, you'll cover your eyes, when corporate retreat hits theaters may 22nd. Get tickets now. For an ad-free experience visit the Obsidian Covenant.com. You've arrived at just the right time.

We've finished cataloging a pair of related items that have been assigned a single designation. Lot 1, 2, 3. They were discovered together, but yet, the language surrounding both is consistent. We begin with a single sheet of paper, edges slightly bent, as it forced through a narrow opening,

“only a single line of handwritten text. Entree does to what it is, are you?”

This is, I found an extremely bizarre internet survey. 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 Dominic Hernandez. Now ends then. Charlest Prater. Kelsey Strattonland. Hand squishy tomatoes. We are ever appreciative of your devotion to the order.

Go to the Obsidian Covenant.com to receive the sacrament. Sounds harmless enough, right? Welcome to the antiquarium of sinister happenings and odd goings on. [Music]

[Music]

Nobody knows what rock bottom truly is until they've had it.

Being abruptly fired from a job you've worked at for the past 10 years and catching your girl cheating on you with your replacement. Yeah, really makes a man think. Now my student loans aren't even paid off yet.

“I should show this life is. After a rather boozy night that consisted of sent an out”

about 4 dozen resumes and horrendously written cover letters, I passed out. When I woke up the next morning, I decided to at least try and make some money at home while waiting for an interview. At that moment, I thought that the best way to go about it was completing those internet surveys that yielded $5 subweek gift cards to the other shit like that after about an hour of answering questions. I mean, that didn't have any other marketable skills that could have yielded immediate income,

so why the fuck not? It was either that or waste in the day away playing computer games, at least I wouldn't have to pay for food. I did these surveys for about five hours before

“nearly passing out. It was way more excruciating than I originally anticipated.”

At the end of those five hours, I had accumulated a whopping 45 bucks in cash and gift cards. $9 an hour, not like I was making much more than that before. That was about to close my laptop up

for the day and head to a bar and an attempt to drown out my melancholy. When I first saw it,

it shouldn't even have been noticeable. But for one reason or another, it was. At the bottom corner of the website that I was on existed a tiny singular advertisement. Maybe it was a simplicity that got me. Plane black letters in a tacky font and red surveys for cash overlapped a completely white background. At least they were direct with the message. That what her one more couldn't hurt I thought. Might as well scrape together a little more booze

money before he had not. What do you say? Fuck it. I sat back down. Clicked on the picture link and

prepared myself to grind through some more painstaking increase. Now the first few questions are

simple enough. I guess they weren't really questions about more data collection. My name, age and occupation, former occupation. I thought it was kind of weird that they also asked for my heightened weight, but it wasn't an hurt of. The first real question was a different story though. I must have stared at it. Eyes wide and mouthed gaped from God knows how long. What the actual hell. In plain English, this is what popped up on my screen.

How strong is your edge to currently look behind you? There were five options below ranging from not at all to overwhelming. There was no feasible reason why I should have been afraid at that moment. But you know, I was. I tightened my breathing. Trying to make out any subtle noises behind me. There were not. After maybe about five minutes, I worked up the courage to look.

There was nothing. I sighed in relief and scoffed at myself at the same time. Fuck. This was most of it's kind of joke. However, I decided to entertain it, answering neutral, and clicking

“on to the next question. Why would you look behind you?”

Funny. Before simply typing in, I don't know, in the response box. And once again, clicking next. You're on a plane. Apart from you, there is only one other passenger who is sitting somewhere behind you. At some point, you get up to go to the washroom and find that the man is gone. You check to see if he is in the only bathroom on the plane, but he isn't. What do you do?

some kind of obscure personality test? I mean, you must have been. I put the same answer

“that I used for the last question. I don't know. It was true. I didn't know. How is I supposed”

to answer this shit? I clicked next again. Now I'm more intrigued than anything. It's night time, and the moonlight provides you with only slight visibility. About 30 feet away from you, there is a small, dimly illuminated cabin. The door is open, and a smiling woman is motioning for you to come in. Do you go? Explain why. This question wasn't necessarily weirder than the last one, so my conjecture that this was some kind

of odd personality test was still very much feasible. I actually make an attempt to answer this one.

“Something along the lines of going into the cabin because”

there's simply nowhere else to go. Once again, I clicked next. Propobly shouldn't have the questions start getting fucked up. They weren't too gory or explicit, not anything like that. They were just stranger, weirder, more psychologically disturbing. If you're wondering why the hell I kept going, I can't really give you an explicit answer to that. I just felt like I had to. It was an esoteric creeping sensation that I can't quite explain away,

but I could never shake it. So I just went on. Some of the questions that stood out were.

“Suppose that you wake up one night to find an elevator in your house. During every midnight after”

that, it opens up for five minutes, revealing an exact copy of yourself that gets progressively more injured as time goes on. Do you keep living like this? Or do you enter the elevator once and end it all? And you're in a hotel room, but are awoken by a rapid knocking at your window. You peek through the blind, seeing what appears to be a man missing both his eyes. He puts his mouth to the glass and tells you to kill the woman in the bathroom immediately.

Do you listen to him? This was one of my least favorites. Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. In addition to this insanity inducing shit, there were some other disconcerning events happening in real life as well. I received a knock at the door about 30 minutes in. I look through the people.

All right, to find a guy standing there, frantically shaking his head and mouthing. No, while making direct I contact with me. He looked terrified. Obviously I didn't open up. I received about 10 phone calls from somebody named the auditor.

On my caller ID, they left a message every time. Here's what it sounds like.

Yeah, about an hour into this thing and I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. I was petrified of looking behind me. Even though there was no indication that anything should have been there. I heard some soft scratching coming from my vent at one point, so I moved my couch over it.

However, it wasn't a question. It was simply a statement.

“Don't let them in. They're not to be trusted.”

As slowly and silently as I could, I moved over and look through the people once again. It was a different person than the one I'd seen earlier. She was a woman looking to be in her mid 20s. She was wearing a thick blazer despite it being like 90 Fahrenheit outside.

She was also wearing sunglasses, so I could never really tell where she was actually looking.

She eventually took a piece of paper out of her pocket and slipped it under the door. I looked down and read it. It's lying. Leave your apartment immediately. It's been half an hour since.

“Give her take. I can't bring myself to look at the computer screen,”

nor the woman outside. She's still there. I can see the shadows of her feet from underneath my door.

I heard my bedroom window.

It opened a few minutes ago. But I've since jammed the door shut with a chair. I can hear some kind of distorted muttering coming from behind it now. Maybe rock bottom wasn't so bad. Oh, what the fuck am I supposed to do here?

$5 and gift cards is not an unreasonable price for knowing exactly how far you're willing to go. Let's pause here. Shall we?

This week's episode is sponsored by Hokam, the new film that critics are calling,

Damian McCarthy's most unnerving horror yet. From the director of Audity, Hokam stars Adam Scott, in a deeply monstrous horror that bloody disgusting called Pure Nightmare Fuel, that holds you firmly in its grip. Don't miss Hokam, the groundbreaking new horror from Damian McCarthy now playing in theaters.

New shirts, hoodies and a few more curiosities we probably shouldn't be letting out very soon. And while we're on the subject of things waiting to be released, you've got one too. You know that idea, that project that thing that keeps sitting there in the back of your mind just out of reach because you're not sure anyone's going to care or engage. Listen, don't overthink it. Let it out.

Whether you want to share your creative voice or build something that lets you leave the nine to five, Shopify removes the friction entirely. No complicated setup, no endless learning curve, just tools to make it easy and fun. Shipping stay simple to Shopify calculates everything.

“Prince your labels, keeps out of the post of a Slyc as come on. Who's got time for that?”

It's time to turn your "what ifs" into, with Shopify today. Sign up for your $1 per month trial today at Shopify.com/tash. That's exclusively for you, the Antichrain visitor. I believe it's what they call an anagram. I might be using that word totally wrong, but go with me.

Shopify.com/tash. That's shopify.com/tash. Enjoy the lot you're about to be taken home today and remember, no refunds, no exchanges. Today's episode is presented by Corporate Retreat. In theaters may 22nd via Western Film Services and Passage Pictures. Described as a gory mix of the menu and saw corporate retreat centers around a group of

young executives whose luxury team-building trip descends into a bloody fight for survival

At the center of this horror comedy is an eclectic cast that also includes

“Odeo Rush, Sasha Lane, Ashton Sanders, Zion Marano, Kirby Johnson, and Rosanna Arcette.”

Aaron Fisher directs from a script he co-wrote with Kerry Lee Romio with special make-up effects handled by Candy Man and Screen 4 Maestro, Gary G. Tonic-Lev. You'll laugh, you'll cringe, you'll cover your eyes. When corporate retreat hits theaters may 22nd. Get tickets now. Why hello there? You've reached the end to query him. If you wish to leave a message, please do so with the tone and have a great day.

Hi, yes. I'm calling about an item I purchased last week. No, I don't have to see any more.

Because the object in question keeps bringing itself back to your store, which is actually the

“problem. Every time I get it home, it disappears overnight and somehow ends up back on your”

shelf like nothing happened. I bought it three times now. Three times. I understand your policies, I don't know, refund their exchanges, but I feel like that called didn't account for the sentient merchandise. And I just want to say very funny telling you that's truly hilarious, great crack. Love the commitment to the bit. But I would love an explanation. End of messages. Let's continue. Lot 1, 2, 3 did not end with a note. It rarely does.

If anything, that's where things tend to begin. This one is rather large, an architectural piece, formerly a bathroom door, recovered from an apartment after a rather disturbing ordeal. I wouldn't rush to install it, however. Unless you don't ever plan on going into the room, it seals. Later up for, my roommate has been in the shower for more than four hours. I roommate has been in the shower for more than four hours.

So I got home at around 11 p.m. late night at the office, turned into an even later night at the bar. About four drinks deep at this point and I'm tired. Just about ready to fall asleep as I stumble through the doorway. I lay down on the couch and reach from a bag of joints and spark one up as I pull you to about my laptop. Then the middle of watching some luxury cruise tour, close to passing out. When I hear the front door open, I sit up and turn my head slightly. Just enough to see my roommate

coming in. He hangs a jacket in the closet and doesn't say anything and walks slowly to his room, which is normal enough. I've been living with him for about three months, long enough for me to pick up on most of his tendencies. The guy really doesn't talk in the spoken two, which was far from a problem

for me. He also generally kept things clean on his end. Never causing much in the way of problems.

I couldn't really complain. So I go back to watching YouTube and about five minutes later, I hear the shower in his room turning on. Once again, nothing strange. At this point, I'm watching bare-knuckle boxing highlights of my eyes half open. Maybe one or two minutes away from

“passing out. I remember waking up in darkness. My head hurting. My throat dries hell. I sat up slowly,”

waiting for the groginess to settle into something manageable. Once I did, I grabbed my phone, checked the time. Around 3.30 a.m. from what I remember. I was starving. And so I got up, began walking towards the fridge. And then I noticed it, a soft but ever-present noise in the background. It took me a few seconds to really recognize what it was. The shower. Suddenly, the events of last night began replaying in my head, drinking at the bar, ubering home, laptop, couch. My roommate coming home,

the shower turning on. I stood there for a while, trying to make sense of it. Maybe he went to bed and for out to turn it off. I should go ahead. There's no way that happened, I thought. Maybe he slipped and fell. Realizing the implications of this, I rushed towards his room,

No response. I considered kicking the door down, but decided to call 911 before I did that. It took my phone out, preparing the dial. When I noticed that I had an unred text, one from my roommate. Hey man, I couldn't sleep, so I went over to my girlfriend's place, not sure when I'll be back. Send two hours ago. I look at the bathroom door, then back down on my phone. Everything about this was wrong. First of all, my roommate barely texts me,

and certainly never to tell me that he's going out. Second of all, I know for a fact that he's

“single and has been for a while. And third of all, who the fuck was in the shower then?”

I tried calling him, no answer. Send him from texts, but no response. I walked over to his desk and saw that his keys and wallet were still beside his laptop. My head started to spin at this point, and I get out of there, go back into the living room, and turn on the lights. I'm pacing around in a circle, trying to follow the plot, while also trying to ignore the shower. A noise that I never could have imagined being so dreadful in any context. Sometime later, I hear something vibrating

on a kitchen counter. I move towards it, and see that it's a phone. My roommate's phone. The panic

begins setting in, and immediately I grab my keys and run out of the apartment. I make my way down

the hall and take the stairs down to the lobby, but even that doesn't seem far enough away. And so

“I make my way over to the McDonald's across the street. I sit there for a while, considering calling”

the cops, but for some reason, feeling too nervous to do so. But even though there's hardly anybody in there, the place begins to feel suffocating, and I decide to leave, walking back out onto the empty streets. Almost immediately, I get this feeling that I'm being washed, and I feel my gaze drifting up and towards the apartment. Soon, I'm looking at my balcony, and I see somebody standing there. A dark figure stood completely straight. Stiff to the point

where it nearly resembles a mannequin. But it isn't one. If I look closely, I can see it just slightly swaying. I froze in place. My mind hardly able to understand or accept what it was seeing. It's not my roommate. It's too tall. In fact, it's too tall to be anybody I know. It's head

“nearly scraping the bottom of the balcony above. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make”

out any of its details. The darkness and distance may have been enough to explain that away. But there was something about it that drove me towards a different conclusion. That this thing simply possessed no details that could have been observed. That the only element of its composition was that of unadulterated darkness. Of course, my gut instinct was to get the hell away from it, but the voice in my head was telling me that if I were to try and run, this thing would end up

following me. I went back into McDonald's instead, locking myself in the bathroom as I finally dialed

on one one. I told the operator that somebody had broken in my place with that I got out of there without them noticing, but that they were still in there. It was the story that most accurately represented the situation without making me come across as batshit. The operator told me that they'd be sending somebody over for me to hang tight. I left the bathroom, waiting at the table closest to the exit until I could see the red and blue lights cutting through the darkness. I went

outside to meet the cops, looking up the balcony to find an empty, though the door to the living room had been left open. They pelts at me with a bunch of questions that I found difficult to answer. Is the intruder armed? Do I have an idea who it might be? What are their intentions? I told them I didn't know that I couldn't figure it out, but they just kept on asking. Soon I was practically yelling at them to go up there and check it out for themselves, and I suppose the terror in my

voice was enough for them to begin taking this seriously. They told me to wait by the entrance, and I watched on as they entered the building. I was out there for a long time, growing increasingly anxious the thought of what they were going to tell me when they came down. A few minutes later, the silence was broken by a single muffled gunshot. My heart dropped into my stomach, and I continued to wait there, unsure of what to do otherwise.

Twenty more minutes of silence, and the officers still hadn't come down. Soon I could hear more of them approaching the distance. Before I knew that four more cop cars

and into their radios. More questions being heard in my way, none of which I was able to answer.

“The next few sequences were mostly a blur, but I remember the building being evacuated,”

the tenants frightened and confused as they were ushered outside, while the officers became more and more frantic. I remember hearing more scattered gunshots, some screaming, other noises that were difficult to make sense of. There were a few lapses in my memory after that, but I recall being pushing it back to the police car. After being driven to the station, I was led into one of the interrogation rooms where I found two non-descript men and suits waiting for me. They didn't

introduce themselves, and immediately went into a series of questions. Each one more bizarre than the last. What company was your roommate employed by? What was the nature of his job? How many different people have been inside your apartment since your roommate moved in? Have you ever heard voices in the apartment from the hours of midnight to 3am? Voices that did not belong to your roommate? Have you ever seen a circle of people standing outside of the apartment from the hours of midnight to 3am?

People who were exceptionally tall, and one of the most unsettling ones. Have you ever seen somebody standing at the foot of your bed upon waking up between the hours of midnight to 3am?

“Only for them to disappear moments later. If so, do you remember what they looked like?”

Any distinct features? As they continued probing me, my mind began conjuring up some of the strange shit that had happened after my roommate had moved in. Shit that I had written off as figments of my imagination, simply because I had no other explanation

for them. I did hear the voices. Always coming from the room next to mine where my roommate

slept. I was always so tired when I heard them, but I do remember it either sounding like a young woman or a man within extremely deep voice. I could never make it any words. It always sounded like gibberish, and then there was that one time where I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Still half asleep, I didn't bother turning a lights on as I entered, but as my eyes began adjusting to the dark, I could have sworn that somebody was already sitting on the toilet.

Somebody extremely tall. Of course, when I turned on the lights, nothing was there. It was easy to chalk it up as a product of late night drowsiness at the time,

and I never really thought about it since. After doing my best to give them useful information,

the suits spent a good few minutes taking notes on their phones. Once they were done, they sat up quickly, told me that they'd be in touch before leaving the room. A cop came in a few minutes later and told me that since I couldn't return to the apartment, they would set me up at a nearby hotel until they were able to get the situation under control,

“and then I should stay put until they gave me a call. What happened? What did you guys find up there?”

I don't know. I mean, I really didn't know. I nodded, tried to smile, though I'm sure it didn't come across very well. It's the next day now, and I'm in the hotel. Of course, I couldn't sleep, couldn't really eat. The officer hasn't called me yet. When I tried searching up information about the evacuation on the internet, all I can find are articles claiming that

it was due to a fire, a fucking fire. Updating. I fell asleep, but I just woke up. It's one AM now, and I can hear the shower. Thank you for your patronage. Hope you enjoyed your new relic as much as I've enjoyed passing along its sorted 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

or by appointment, only for you, our best customer. You have a good night now.

“The antiquarium of sinister happenings, lot 1, 2, 3,”

consigned by Mr. Outlaw. My roommate has been in the shower for more than four hours, starring Daniel Amerman, Shelby Novak, Conan Freeman, and Trevor Shand. I found an extremely bizarre internet survey, starring Trevor Shand, and Kirstie Campbell, featuring Steven Nulls as

the antique dealer, production and sound designed by Kevin Seaman, theme music by the Newton Brothers.

Additional music by Coag, Vivek Abashek, Clement Panchout, 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@646-41-7197. Today, I met the love of my life. Her name is Juniper Seaman.

She just… she's kind of off to me. Why would you think that? Tell me.

Is her eyes, they're just so dark. I feel like she's going to eat me or something. I get that a lot. Hell, really, I feel like the moment they released her. And she is everything.

“Something's a misadunipers house, available everywhere this Valentine's Day.”

In the alley, the center's stronger, overpowering. As I watch, the overhead lamps flicker and went out one by one. God damn it. No. The girl appears briefly under the last street light. The headphones snugged against her ears, the walkman clasped to her hip. She's oblivious as she walks, lost in her own world. Hey, stop! I need to talk to you!

Then she's swallowed up by the darkness again. Hell in! Wait a second! It strikes her in the gloom so fast she barely has time to scream. She falls into the edge of the lamplight and lies there, bleeding, motionless. The man's skin is scaly, flaking, and there are patches of suit on his cheeks.

He stares at me with eyes like midnight. Eyes that are devoid of remorse, devoid of humanity. He's one of them. I turn and run, and I don't look back. The road of shadows, a new mystery and suspense audio drama by Mark Ahili, creator of The Strata.

Listen now at TheRotofShadows.com