MidReal Story

The Secret Museum of Extra Arms

Anonymous

4d ago
Scenario:Our all male men’s college multi limb studies department operates the Multiple Arm Museum, filled with statues of handsome young shirtless men with extra pairs of arms.
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Our all male men’s college multi limb studies department operates the Multiple Arm Museum, filled with statues of handsome young shirtless men with extra pairs of arms.
I didn’t know the museum existed until my roommate mentioned it.
Even then, I had to look up where it was located on the campus map.
My college is all male—and not surprisingly, given the name of the department I’m studying in—only men work here.
But I still didn’t expect to find a room full of statues of handsome young men who are all shirtless and sporting extra pairs of arms.
My name is Ethan, by the way.
I’m in my third year here, and I’m majoring in multilimb studies.
It’s a unique department, but my school is the only one that offers it.
I wish I could say I’m doing well here, or that I’m making any real progress with my studies.
But the truth is, I’m still not used to being away from home, and while I keep up with my coursework, I don’t really have any friends.
Not even my roommate, Lucas, although he’s nice enough.
Before Lucas mentioned it, I had no idea the Multiple Arm Museum existed.
It’s not like the school gives tours of the campus to prospective students or anything.
At least they didn’t when I was waiting to hear back about my acceptance.
I decided to check it out for myself.
It was a slow day, and I’d already finished all my homework.
I was feeling restless and bored, and the museum sounded like something interesting.
The entrance to the museum is on the second floor of one of the oldest buildings in the department.
It’s not even marked except for a small brass plaque on a wooden door that says "Multiple Arm Museum."
I had to look hard to find it, even with the map.
I walked down a dimly lit corridor lined with cobweb-covered pipes and old electrical wiring, then climbed a set of narrow stairs to the second floor.
The door was tucked away in a corner, and it looked more like it led to a storage closet than anything else.
But when I turned the handle and pushed it open, I found myself in a long room filled with rows of statues. The air inside was cool and silent, and there were no windows.
The only sound was the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead.
The statues themselves were spaced at regular intervals along the walls, each one standing about three feet tall on top of a pedestal.
Every single one of them depicted a young man with multiple pairs of arms.
The Secret Museum of Extra Arms
I walked slowly along the wall, studying each statue in turn.
Every one of them was meticulously crafted.
Their extra arms were positioned in a way that looked almost lifelike, as if they were simply resting them on their hips or behind their backs instead of using them to do anything.
Each statue’s face was smooth and unlined, with full lips and prominent cheekbones.
They all looked like they were in their early twenties, but none of them looked exactly alike.
In fact, the more I looked at them, the more I realized how different they all were. Some had more muscle mass than others, or thicker hair on their chests or arms or between their legs.
Some had more prominent facial features—like noses or jawlines—or different colors or textures to their hair.
I wondered if that meant they’d been modeled after real people, or if they were simply random variations created by whatever sculptor had made them.
I continued walking along the wall until I reached the end of the row.
Then I turned around and started back up the other side, taking my time to study each statue’s musculature and expression in turn.
The longer I looked at them, the more questions I had about who made them—and why—and how they’d ended up here in this museum in our department building.
"Ethan, what are you doing here?" a voice suddenly asked from behind one of the statues.
Startled, I turned to see Lucas stepping out from the shadows, a curious smile on his face.
"I could ask you the same thing," I replied, trying to mask my surprise. "Do you know something about these statues?"
The Secret Museum of Extra Arms