I don't know how many of you will remember, but I've been here before. I am the guy who bought the badge that caused some strange disturbances in his life, for those who can't be bothered to follow the first link. Well, I haven't given up collecting, as a matter of fact, my obsession has only deepened. They say some people never learn, and, I guess, I am one of those people. I've made a few purchases in the last few months.
I moved away from collecting stuff that may have trauma attached to it, so I guess I at least partially learned my lesson. My first purchase after the badge was an antique absinthe fountain, which sparked a newfound interest for myself and my wife. We started collecting antique liquor accessories as well as old bottles of wine and of course absinthe. We have a few new bottles, which we have opened and sipped at, but that is neither here nor there.
The thing I'm coming here to tell you about today, though, is sort of an odd buy for me. We were walking through a rather large house which was hosting a very large estate sale, and were passing by watercolors and ceramic figurines by the pallet-load. I was growing rather annoyed at the lack of things that interested me, and my wife allowed me to drift off by myself. I walked back out to our car first to smoke half of a cigarette.
When I made my way back into the house, I followed the small arrow shaped sign that read 'More Upstairs'. My feet carried me up the beautiful polished-wood steps, up to the open landing. There were several rooms dominated by racks of clothes. There was a smaller room, painted blue that was filled with instruments of varying types. That was where my feet led me, and my eyes lingered on a beautiful walnut Gibson guitar.
I turned to glance at the small violin hanging from the rack next to it, and a gleam of light caught the corner of my eye. I turned to identify whatever shiny object it was, and practically felt a cold hand pushing me in the direction of the flash even before my eyes fell on the object. I finally spotted it, a small contraption made of old brass and thick glass lenses, with a long, bronze handle which held ornate engraving along it.
I felt a slight thrill as I reached out to touch the old opera glasses, though I don't understand exactly why to this very moment. I picked them up and turned them one way and then the other, thinking that they were surprisingly heavy. I carried them back downstairs with me to find my wife, having decided to buy them while I searched for my partner, who wasn't in the garage, or kitchen of the large house. I finally tracked her down in a small room that looked like it had been a den.
She was looking over a heavy-looking book and was holding a rather charming stein in her other hand. She looked at the opera glasses, but didn't comment, and we went on our way through the rest of the house. Another fifteen or so minutes later and we were paying for our things. When I handed the old, frail-looking woman the opera glasses she seemed sad for just a moment. She held my gaze with her deep, swirling blue eyes.
“Promise me that you will take care of these.” she said, her voice as timeworn as her face and hands. I felt slightly uncomfortable, and then nodded my head almost solemnly. We walked back to our car and as I was fastening my seat belt, my wife looked at me with her steady gaze. “That was kind of odd.” she said, and I nodded my head again. We drove home without discussing the incident or, really, much of anything on the road. We unpacked the items and made our way inside, putting the stuff on a shelf temporarily.
I walked into our bed room, and turned on the small radio that sat in the corner, on a small table. I closed my eyes for a few minutes trying to shake the weird feeling that had clung to me like cobwebs since we left the place. I was about to drift off to sleep, when my wife knocked gently on the open door. I sat up and smiled. “What's up?” I asked lightly and she walked over to sit beside me on the bed. “The food is ready.” she said.
I nodded and my stomach rumbled as if on cue. We ate, and then snuggled on the couch, watching some old western or another until we both decided to turn in. The first night passed without any weirdness besides one unexpected outburst of barking from Bear, our Pomeranian. I had to hold him for nearly an hour before he calmed down enough to go back to sleep. It was a little harder for me to do so, and I lay there for what seemed like hours, staring at the ceiling.
Due to my disturbed slumber the night before, I was extremely irritable throughout work that next day. I made it through, but was extremely on edge even as I drove home, my eyes threatening to close on me as I tried to focus on the road, forcing me to pull over. I stopped at a small Mexican restaurant, calling my wife as I exited my car, asking her to meet me there for dinner. She had just gotten home, and agreed after her shower.
About thirty minutes later, the cab she had called pulled up to the curb. I opened the door for my partner and hugged her tightly, the scent of her freshly washed hair soothing me slightly. We walked inside and were shown to a table rather quickly. By the end of our meal, I was actually starting to feel a little bit more like myself, though I was still tired. I let her drive us to the house, closing my eyes and half-dozing as she did so.
When we got home, I decided against a shower. I would wake up an hour early and wash myself in the morning, I thought as I stripped down to my underclothes, and laid my head on the pillow, eyelids still heavy. I fell asleep easily, though this time I woke a while later, holding the ornate, brass object in my hand, simply standing in my living room. I swear that as I raised my hand to place them back on the shelf I saw a reflection looming behind my own.
The experiences I had with the cursed badge came back to me in a torrent of emotions. I walked into the kitchen, any pretense of going back to sleep lost, I scrounged through the refrigerator, assembling a sandwich and pouring myself a glass of milk. I ate slowly, feeling out of sorts, as I am sure you can imagine. I showered after finishing up and cleaning my mess, dressing for work, though I wasn't looking forward to going.
I fell asleep on my desk twice, only for a few minutes each time, but I am seriously lucky that I didn't get busted. I was glad for my lunch hour, and spent the entire time napping in my car. The alarm on my cell phone almost failed to wake me up, and I was tempted to throw it onto the pavement outside the car as I walked back into my office. I managed not to do so, but just barely. I kept my head down and gritted my teeth, until it was time to go home.
I made it to my house without feeling groggy, mostly because I was extremely agitated. My jaw hurt from grinding my teeth. By the time I got home, I just wanted to go to sleep, and I tried. My eyes kept opening, staring at the wall as I lay on my left side. I got back up, and my wife, the loving, caring soul that she is, offered to make me a meal. I dismissed her as gently as I could in my anxious, frayed state, and she excused herself to take a shower. I nodded and moved to the couch, not bothering to turn on the T.V. As I flopped onto the cushions, feeling annoyed.
All I wanted was to go lay next to my wife and go to sleep, but my brain refused. My thoughts were rapid and erratic, and I suddenly felt flush, and as I tried to stand, a glint of unnatural light caught my eye from the middle of my bookshelf. I also thought I heard faint sobbing but when my wife opened the bath room door all of the symptoms vanished as rapidly as they had appeared. I considered telling her about the experience but ultimately did not.
She had been kind of nervous since the incident with the badge a while before, and I didn't want to cause her any undue stress. I sat there and watched reruns of Bonanza until I drifted off. That was the first time I had a strange dream. I was in the seat of a carriage, which was upholstered in rich, navy blue velvet, with light silk curtains hanging over each of the two windows. A woman was seated next to me, fanning her face.
I realized that I was sweating, and that I could actually feel the moisture on my nose and upper lip as it threatened to drop onto the fabric of my fine trousers. As things often do in dreams, the scene started to lose cohesion. The one thing I remember for sure were those opera glasses. I woke up to an infomercial, and when I turned off the television, I heard strange, far away sobs. At first I thought maybe the front window was open and the sound was coming in from the street.
I stood up to investigate, and when I approached the window, I noticed how still the curtains were. I checked, just to be sure, and the window was indeed closed. I shuddered slightly, as the sound hadn't ceased, and still seemed to be coming from far away somewhere. I walked back toward the couch, and that was when I saw the faint, almost foggy shape standing near my book shelf. It was transparent, and had no distinguishable features beyond a general humanoid form.
The sound seemed to be coming from the misty shape, and I was unsure whether to approach the thing or not. I finally mustered the courage, and stepped toward it, but the thing simply dissipated, losing its shape and drifting in different directions. I was panicked and confused, but kept this experience to myself the next morning. I didn't sleep much, obviously but the edginess had worn away, leaving me more zombie-like than irritable throughout work.
I had to go home at my lunch hour, and barely made it to my bed before falling asleep. I again had strange, disjointed dreams about carriage rides, though this time they ended with fire and screams. I woke up, shaking and sweating. My throat was sore and the way my wife was looking at me told me that I had screamed at least one time. “I'm sorry.” I said softly and slipped out of bed. My wife shook her head and closed her eyes, determined to go back to sleep.
I wasn't deluding myself into thinking that I was going to be able to do the same, and called my work to leave a message for my boss, telling him that I wouldn't be in the next morning. I wasn't about to drag my exhausted, frayed self out the door and try to be productive for a third day. I waited for my wife to leave for work and tried to go back to sleep. I tossed and turned for a while before I gave up and started thinking about getting something to eat.
I made myself an omelet, and poured a small glass of milk, with every intention of sleeping as much as I possibly could after finishing my meal. I glanced over to the area where I had seen the figure the night before, and goosebumps immediately broke out on my arms. A chill ran down my spine, forcing a shudder to course through me. I dismissed the idea of hanging around the house all day and tried calling a few friends, and even my brother-in-law, but ultimately I was left to my own devices. I was frustrated and tired.
I didn't want to drive so I called a taxi, walking outside almost immediately after I hung up with the dispatcher, waiting on my porch until the vehicle arrived, hustling to get into the back seat, anxious to get as far away from my home as I could get. I had no real destination in mind when I left, and had the driver drop me off at the mall, the noise and commotion around me both keeping me awake as well as taking my mind off the weird stuff going on with me.
I grabbed a slice of pizza at the food court, and ate slowly, my mind starting to drag a little bit as the fatigue caught back up to me while I sat down. I guzzled half the soda I had bought before dumping the tray in the trash and walking out into the bright daylight. The fresh air helped perk my brain up once more. I walked from the mall to a park that was only a few blocks away, and while I sat on the bench, eyes examining the clouds, a thought surfaced in my murky brain.
I wasn't far from the home of the medium who had helped me with my badge issue. I was newly motivated and stood back up, feet carrying me in that direction, wiping at my eyes and trying to organize my thoughts into a coherent narrative as I walked. I knocked on his door, and when he opened the partition, I rushed into the house, almost bowling the other man over. After he managed to settle me down, I explained everything that had happened.
The man agreed to help me once more, and even let me take a nap on his couch. Thankfully, this time I didn't have any dreams at all. I woke up feeling a little more alert and well rested than I had in almost a week. My mood had even improved by a wide margin and I felt prepared to go back home. The medium let me use his telephone to call another taxi. He offered me a cup of tea while I waited and I accepted.
I drank the hot concoction, and let the warmth roll through me as I watched out the window for the yellow car to pull up to the curb. When it did, I shook the Medium's hand, walking out to take my place in the back seat. I gave the driver my address, and I was a little bit excited that I would be able to see my wife soon. As soon as I got home, I concentrated on making a nice dinner, pan-frying a pair of steaks and making mashed potatoes to go on the side.
She seemed to be in brighter spirits after seeing me on my feet again and we exchanged small talk while we ate the meal I had prepared. “So do you think you're through the rough patch?” she asked, and I nodded my head. “I think so.” I replied, not mentioning that the Medium would be visiting the house the next day. I washed the dishes and let my wife shower before cleaning myself. I had no problems falling asleep that night.
Staying asleep was a totally different matter altogether. I had normal dreams for a short time, though when I stepped out of the house that I had spent my childhood in, the street had changed significantly. For one it was unpaved and there were no other houses. For two, there was a horse-drawn carriage sitting in front of me, and I unwillingly walked toward it. I settled into the lush, fancy interior, the woman in the seat across from me giving me a polite nod.
For some reason, I got the feeling that I knew her. The sensation didn't fade until the strange scene ended in screams and flames. I again woke up sweating, body trembling, my eyes immediately gone wide and wild. I had apparently managed to stay quiet as my wife continued to sleep blissfully next to me. I slid out of bed and stepped out into the narrow hallway. I closed the door to the bed room before turning on the light. At the end of the hall was a vaguely familiar shape, wispy, but definitely humanoid.
The sound of faint sobbing reached my ears. I froze in mid-step for just a second. I decided that I was done being afraid of whatever was happening. I took one step toward the misty shape, and then another. The sound grew more intense as I neared the human-shaped cloud. I finally got within reach, and extended my arm in an attempt to touch the mass. Of course my fingers passed through the dampness, and it froze me to the bone.
It was so cold it made my forearm and fingers hurt, but I found myself frozen in place, unable to move my arm back to my side. My legs locked up and it felt as if my flesh were turning to stone. Just before I lost awareness of my surroundings I heard a woman laughing. The scenario I had been dreaming played out in front of my eyes, and when the flames enveloped me, I came back to reality. I was standing in my front yard, alone, in the dark.
I walked back inside and tried to go back to sleep, but ended up staring at the ceiling until my wife's alarm went off. I got up when she did, and kissed her goodbye before calling in to work again. The next call I made was to the psychic. I explained the situation I had experienced the night before, and he agreed to come over in an hour. We hung up and I shaved and showered before making a quick breakfast.
I finished washing dishes and drying my hands just as the shorter man knocked on the door. He entered my house, seemingly confident and collected though his expression shifted a bit when he came through the doorway. He took the opera glasses into his hands and I saw a far away look in his eye. He turned, entranced and walked out my front door, muttering something I couldn't understand. This was the last time I saw him.
The night before was the last time I had an experience, I may just give up collecting completely.
Submitted September 16, 2017 at 12:19PM by Kendersarecooler http://ift.tt/2w0z6g6 nosleep
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