“Zee, put everything delicate in that box.” I point at the box behind me as I pack smaller items in my leather bag, the hallway had become an active issue, with all the blood and decomposition. So, I'm moving my main base to somewhere nice.

Zee comes over with a glass, “delicate?”

I give a thumbs up, “Yes.” He smiles and puts it in the delicate box, I had put cushions in it to make it easier to transfer.

The main issue right now are face spiders, it had been around 3 days since zee exploded that monster, and without the presence of a predator the face spiders have been swarming this level.

But. Now with the Echoist is gone, we can live on floor 298 safely, right by a stairwell that's takes me up to the rooftop where I will have infinite space for my farm. Now, where exactly do face spiders get their nutrients?

Well, I went down to 296 this morning and found out the webs work as a sort of plant that the spiders spit out from their mouths, the webs suck out nutrients from blood and also the carpet cotton, like moths. It can also suck out nutrients from the hard wood floor under the carpet, an incredibly adaptable plant.

I'll probably go down again and put some into a jar, but for now, with that information I have, I'm going to burn floor 297, to create a sort of wall that stops the face spiders from going any further. I'm not sure if it will work, but one can wish.

Zee drops a glass and screams as loud as he can, “BAD. BAD.”

His hand is bleeding, I run over and hold it, “hey... it's okay... just...” I rip a piece of my shirt off and wrap it around his hand, “see?”

“Bad, bad, bad.”

“Uhm...” I point at it, “hurts.” then I point at him “zee.”

“Hurts... bad hurts.”

I nod, I really wish he was indestructible, he is just as fragile as me, anything that could sneak up to him would be able to kill him easily. Even with all that power he is still practically a glass cannon, do I train him?

I clean the glass while saying “clean.” To hopefully teach him more vocabulary, he is learning incredibly fast, probably because he isn't human, that's my guess. Unless I'm a great teacher it seems like zee is learning what kids learn within months in days. He taps my shoulder a couple times.

I look over, “what?” That word seems to make him go deep into thought.

He points at his hand, “what?”

“Hand.”

“Hurts hand.”

I shake my head, point one finger up “hand,” then the second “hurts.” I then point at the box, “big,” one finger up, “box.”

“Hand hurts.”

I nod, “good.” Which sends him running around the apartment going, “what?” to every item in the apartment, incredibly tiring.

“What?”

“Box.”

“What?”

“Coffee machine.”

“What?”

“Shirt.”

This goes on until he is satisfied, going back to his book. Maybe if I find a pen and paper, I can write him a story to read, one with actual comprehensive characters. I lift up a box “Zee, grab stuff, we’re moving up.”

“Up!”

“Up.”

He smiles and grabs a box, walking with me, the hallway was incredibly gross, the thick blood becoming almost black on the walls and roof, the led lights at the top were stained red and gave an ominous glow.

I had a plan where we were going to stay, floor 298 obviously, but there's a certain stairway that I found that covers 4 floors, 299, 298, 297 and 296. It's probably incredibly rare.

“Box hurts.”

I look back, he seems to be struggling carrying it, “good hurts.” I place down the box and roll my sleeve up, flexing my barely noticeable bicep, “strong.”

He places the box and tries to flex, his stick arms don't show any muscle. “Bad strong?”

I nod, “good hurts... makes zee strong.”

“Makes what's?” He tilts his head.

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How do I convey the concept of making... he seemed to know what elevators do so... “elevator makes up.”

“Makes up?”

“Elevator makes up.”

He shakes his head, “box makes hurts?”

This is almost a comprehensive sentence, I point at his arm, “box makes arm hurt.”

“Arm... box hurts makes strong.”

I nod. I think he is just barely grasping what I'm saying. I pick up the box “pick up.” He picks his up and follows me, we walk up the stairwell and walk into the closest room, this one seemed fine, it's the same as the rest, electric stove which was convenient, and a pretty big fridge.

“lets go back.”

“letsgoback whats?”

My god this is getting tiring, I just walk back while saying “go back.” hoping he picks up on it somehow, I'm really relying on this kids fast learning skills because clearly, and I don't mean to alarm myself, something is hunting me in my dreams, climbing the floors.

I want to be ready.

We go back and forth, carrying boxes and bags, I cook up a meal for dinner, i cant remember the last time I've had 3 meals a day, its just been 1 and maybe some snacks.

He eats my pan fried onion and bacon like an animal, making his bandaged hand all gross and messy. “fork.” I hand it to him.

“Bad fork.”

“Good fork.”

“BAD FORK.” He points his fingers at me in the same finger gun position, im not stepping down, if he learns that he can just threaten me to get what he wants i will never be safe.

“Good fork.” I lean into the finger's direction, he is shaking, probably confused on why I'm being so annoying.

“Bang.”

I jump and scream, my head didn't pop off luckily, but my heart may as well have.

“BAD, BAD ZEE.” I scream at him emotionally.

“BAD ALICE, BAD FORK, ALICE MAKES HURTS ZEE.”

I slam my hands on the table, he jumps and looks like he is about to cry, “JUST EAT WITH THE FUCKING FORK.”

He goes quiet and just eats, with the fork but without the smile, an equivalent exchange. I feel bad, I genuinely feel bad, who am I to say you have to use a fork in this place? Theres no rules, he exploded a god damn monster for me and now I'm acting like his mom telling him to eat with a fork.

“Sorry...” I walk around the table and hug him, “sorry... Alice is bad...”

“Is... is bad?”

I don't think he knows what ‘is’ means, so I point at me “is Alice.” then at him, “is zee.” This just makes him incredibly confused, like I added a new rule to our word game, complicating things.

“Alice is good. Zee is bad. Box is hurts. Hand is hurts.”

I nod to his sentences, I know it's not technically grammatically correct but its close enough, I hug him tighter, “fork is good.” I speak softly, my whole body is weak.

He nods and eats with his fork again, the soft smile back on his face, “food is good.” eating it slowly and finishing within a normal human amount of time, I wash up, he watches the water steam up as I use a pure white sponge that has soap mixed into it somehow, its one of the items that is genuinely useful.

I get lost in the routine and realise zee isn't beside me anymore, and I hear birds, the sound of birds coming from speakers, speakers that come from a tv. I drop the plate into the sink and run to the living room, I cant believe I forgot to destroy the tv, I'm so stupid. Its playing a video of clouds, doesn't seem too bad, but I trust Leo and Jack when they said not to interact with these things, and after that phone call I have an idea why.

I tip the tv over while zee watches off the couch, his knees up high, I stomp on it and disconnect the plug, “bad Tv.” I turn to look at him, he is crying, like tears flowing, miserably crying.

“Hey hey are you okay? It was just clouds.” I hug him, squeezing tightly to hopefully get all the sadness out with brute force.

“Up... up up up... up is good... zee is makes up hurts.” He wraps his hands around me, crying into my shoulder. I’m not going to make sense of his ramblings, I wonder why the tv showing clouds made him cry so much, but I wonder a lot about this place and that seems low on the list.

“Bedtime.”

He lets go and goes into the shower, this place had a shower with a glass door and divider, it’s super lavish. I’m really moving up in the world, if this place was for rent in my old reality, it would cost at least 700 dollars a week.

I shower then we both sleep, he curls up next to me and breathes softly, falling asleep first.

Eyes close.

299, 298, 297, 296, 295, 294, 293, 292… waving like a jackass, I can see his teeth now, the half-smile that’s under the fabric mask of a human face. “CAN YOU FUCK OFF?” I yell into the pit.

He just continues waving, I try to leave the balcony, but it doesn’t work, I then try to jump off the balcony, but some invisible mime wall is stopping me.

This is stupid. I sit down on the balcony chair, there’s no cigarettes so I have nothing to do. I tap the glass table, tap tap tap, my nail hitting it perfectly. Out of thin air a man is sitting next to me, “give me 2 teeth and I’ll let you leave.”

This faceless man is supposed to be Jack, his rough knife cut hair is proof of that.

Oh great, “can I get like pliers?”

“Finger.”

Fantastic, great, wonderful. “Who are you?”

“I work due in time for a meeting in a date we haven’t set.” He says super formally.

“That makes sense… what if I don’t give you teeth?”

He slides his hand up my thigh, “3 teeth.”

Okay, sunk cost fallacy demon. It’s a dream so it’s not real.

I put my finger in my mouth and reach for a bottom back tooth, around the middle because chompers are too strong. I pull and my fingers slip…

Wish there was a guidebook for this, pulling doesn’t work, I might just need to break the gums.

I pull but instead of up I go backwards towards my lips. Okay I’m getting somewhere I’m getting there it hurts but it’s fine it’s a dream it hurts but it’s a dream.

I rip it out of the gums, blood flows out of my mouth, my fingers feel incredibly wet, I place the tooth on the glass table and go for the same tooth on the other side.

Again, pull, pull, pull, slide, rip, blood, wet, tooth. I rub my hands on my clothes, it looks like I just did a surgery.

Again, pull, pull, pull, pull, pull, twist, rip, blood, wet, tooth. All 3 are on the table.

“Vappy?” I say with my mouth full of liquid, spitting by his feet.

“Very.”

I wake up to a dripping feeling in my mouth, the pillow soaked in red, I get up and walk over to the mirror and the three teeth are completely missing. Along with my gums being messed up.

I drink water and keep spitting it out into the sink, I basically have what feels like huge cavities, or rather holes in my mouth. Reminds me of when I was a kid getting my adult teeth but if I had used a buzz saw to get them out of my mouth.

This is bad, really really bad. I’m not sleeping again; I need to stay up.