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[Grian]
Statement of…unnamed. That’s weird. I’ve glanced at a few statements I have yet to get to, and one of them had said “unknown”, but not “unnamed”… Huh.
Well, I guess there’s not much I can do about it now , so…
Statement of unnamed, regarding a trading card collector. (To himself) Ooo! Pokémon?
(Clears throat) I mean, interview originally transcribed April 21, 2018. Statement recorded October 27, 2024. Statement begins.
[Grian- Statement]
I was just browsing EBay.
That’s all I was doing! How was I supposed to know what would happen? It’s EBay! People buy from there all the time with little to no issues! Heck, you can get car parts in good condition! So how was I supposed to know that a guy that sells trading cards would end up being the odd one out?!
Sorry, I just…it’s been rough. But I guess for you to know that, I need to explain. So I’ll stop venting, and start talking.
I don’t know my name. I don’t know if I was named Shelly, or Rebecca, or Phoenix. I don’t know if I played sports, or baked, or jogged. I don’t know, because he took it all away from me.
But we’ll get to him in a bit.
I was on EBay because I was bored, and I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just scrolling through the website to see what caught my eye. Of course, I don’t know now what did, but if I had to hazard a guess, probably some geeky nerdy stuff, because I ended up clicking on a listing for custom trading cards.
I remember thinking it was an odd listing, because there seemed to be no text boxes or anything for personalization, and the price was only twenty-five cents. On top of that, there didn’t seem to be any reviews, or photos of the buyers with their products. Instead, the only photos I could find were the ones of the cards.
So I messaged the seller, just for the heck of it.
I explained my confusion to him, and although I wasn’t really expecting him to reply, he messaged me back within the next few hours, and assured me that the price was in fact what he was selling a card for. He did this as a hobby, he said.
He did this for fun.
He also explained to me that if I was to purchase a listing and be unsatisfied with the result, he would give me back a quarter, and he would add the unwanted card to his deck. When I asked him where we would meet, he gave me the name of a library in my area. He said he was based there.
In retrospect, that should’ve been what tipped me off. Trust me, I’m not stupid, and I know what a red flag is. There were loads of them here, obviously. I mean, come on. What are the odds he would be in my area of all places? I should’ve stopped messaging him, and I probably should’ve contacted the authorities. But I’ve always been too curious for my own good, and for some reason, despite never having met him, he gave me the impression of a nice, honest guy. His profile picture was of a brown haired, bearded white guy smiling at a camera. He just seemed kind of average and nonthreatening. And if he tried to pull anything, the library had cameras, and librarians.
So I purchased the listing, and set up a time to meet up after work the next day. He paid me back, just like he said he would, and although I’d expected him to not show, he was sitting there waiting for me when I got to the library. He had a binder full of clear plastic sleeves and cards resting in front of him on the table he sat at, and he grinned at me when he saw me.
He said my name—whatever it was—very enthusiastically, and shook my hand as I sat down across from him. He looked just like the picture, although his outfit choice was a little…it was interesting . He was wearing a white apron, and it was stained with these red splotches. Ink, he told me, and I guess I figured if he was some sort of mass murderer, he probably wouldn’t be walking around in public with it on, so I believed him. I’m not sure if I still do, but after what he did to me, I think I can make up whatever I want about him.
He introduced himself as Beef, short for Beeftholamew. Weird name, I know, but since I don’t have one, I guess I can’t judge. He said that it was a pleasure to meet me, and that he had been looking forward to our meeting. He made some small talk—where was I from, how did I develop an interest in trading cards, did I have any fun pets—but eventually he pulled out a notebook, and a pen, and looked at me expectantly. “So,” he said. “Where would you like to start?”
I raised an eyebrow at him, and told him wherever he felt like we should start, since I had never made cards before. He nodded, and said we could start with my name. And then…he took it. Not ‘took’ as in he wrote it down. ‘Took’ as in, as he drew the shape of the card out, and scribbled my name in where the title was, it slipped from my mind. It felt like I was being juiced, and then I couldn’t remember my name.
I wanted to run right then and there. I really did, but it was like I was being pinned in place, like something under a microscope. I couldn’t move, or think properly, and when he started to ask me about my life and my hobbies, the words just fell from my mouth automatically, even though my mind was screaming at me to stop. He filled the attack slots in with the things I loved, and all I could do was sit and watch him.
At that point I was starting to feel lightheaded, like he had taken my blood. Honestly, I probably would have felt better if he had, because like I said, I don’t know who I am anymore. My job, my favorite sports team, my favorite food—all of it is gone now.
And that isn’t even the worst part.
After he had finished writing my life away with his stupid blocky handwriting, Beef began to sketch my face into the paper. It wasn’t…it’s not like he stole my face from my skull or anything, but it was arguably just as bad. It almost felt like something was being torn from me. One second it was attached to me, and the next, it was being pulled into his hands. I wanted to stop him midway, to rip it back from him and place it back against my skin like some sort of mask, but I couldn’t. Instead I saw him finish the sketch, and I felt the emptiness settle around me, as if to reinforce the idea that what was done was done.
Beef looked over the card sketch, as if to double check that everything was up to standard, before he—I don’t know how else to describe it—pulled the sketch from the paper, and offered me the now physical card. I felt numb as I stared at it, taking in every little line and detail, yet not seeing anything familiar. I shook my head, pushing it away, and Beef just shrugged and nodded. I watched as he carefully slid the card into a binder sleeve, before digging around his pocket and pulling out a quarter. He opened my hand, and pressed it into my palm, blue eyes twinkling as he smiled that sickly sweet smile.
“A face for a face.”
I…I’m still figuring out what to do. My landlord didn’t recognize me after what happened, and threatened to call the cops when he found me in my apartment, so I don’t really have a place to stay at the moment. And as depressing as it is to say it, I doubt my friends or family would recognize me either. I have heard talk on the streets, though. There’s this artist that’s rumored to have a garden of living statues—a collection of people that she’s modified and somehow permanently frozen in place. If you had asked me a week ago, I’d have called it crap, but after hearing Beef explain his obsession with cards only started after he found a binder with a weird bookplate sitting on his doorstep…
Well, I suppose nothing is too far out of the realm of possibility.
I only hope that I can convince her not to freeze me. I’ll happily be a test subject if it means I get a roof over my head, and a chance to start over.
Over. I think I like that name.
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[Grian]
Okay, the majority of this appears like it's unverifiable, due to the fact the listing, if it even existed in the first place, has been taken down, and there’s not a name to go with the statement giver. However, due to the fact that it’s highly unlikely any other creepy statue-making ladies or mysterious evasive librarians exist, I think I have a hunch on where to find this “Over”.
My appointment can’t come soon enough, it seems.
As for this “Beeftholamew” fellow, I wasn’t able to find any mentions of him online, which leads me to believe he either uses a different name for his listings, or he’s just vigilant about keeping himself and his “hobby” a secret. Either way, he’s untraceable.
(Pauses)
I wonder if he ever finished his deck.
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