It took me an hour to count to ten. Finding other pieces of furniture should have been simple, considering I was stuck inside the biggest department store in existence. 

Each row of shelving was more barren than the last as I dragged a wooden table behind me. I’d made sure to measure my fort beforehand, noting the missing piece along the front. The last thing I needed was a way for it to get in.

I could still hear the damned machine humming close by in another aisle, chomping away at the chair I’d chucked into its mouth. Judging by how long the last stool lasted I only had a few moments.

Rounding the final shelf I jerked to a stop. There, near the entrance of the manmade fort. I froze in a crouch, gently letting go of the table even as the hose moved. I imagined a snake: a slithering green viper with no eyes and deadly poison.

With a steady hand - agonizingly slow - I picked up my broken table leg, held my breath, and charged.

A hiss of pain was my reward.

-4 damage (glancing) 

Water gushed out of the hole, nearly causing me to slip and fall as I dodged to the left. A second stream of water darted through the space my head had just occupied, drilling into the discarded table. 

Anger quickly replaced the shock of fear as I lashed out again with my improvised spear. It skewered the hose to the ground, eliciting another round of high-pitched hisses. I watched as the blow took a third of its health away. Not giving the hose a chance to recover, I followed up with one final stab that nearly cut it in two. 

- 6 damage 

- 12 damage (Critical). Young Garden Hose dies.

+ 20 xp 

Laying flat and deflated, the hose I’d imagined as a fearsome snake stopped bleeding water. I took one final look before kicking the thing away from my fort. 

I tucked my spear under my arm and picked up the table. That was enough to fill in any gaps - exactly what I wanted. Did I have time to grab another?

I glanced over at the nearest aisle. The humming from earlier had gone silent. Probably best not to chance it; I couldn’t risk going toe to toe with the manic lawn mower outside the fort. 

I crouched through the mess of mattress springs and recliners, then tugged the table into place. It turned out most of the twisted tools and appliances in here hunted by sight. That had taken me two days to figure out as I’d wondered around aimlessly. Today was my third inside the gargantuan store, if my watch was to be trusted. Keeping track of time helped relieve the monotony, to pretend I was doing something more than hiding from killer machines.

A part of me was scared as I checked my watch again a few hours later. Leaving the relative safety of the fort behind meant danger, but I had to take the risk. There was no way I’d survive on the little resources I had left. Besides, I knew there was a food isle close by. It’d been the first section of the store I’d run into after getting hopelessly lost. 

I secured the table behind me and crept towards a familiar intersection where the open floor and ceiling gave way to rows of shelves. Stacks of kitchen utensils, plates and pots covered the bottom layers. On the upper portions, pristine and polished metal glittered from appliances-all of them brand new or enclosed in boxes. The shelf on the far end twisted and morphed directions, one half pointing to another aisle. Everything flowed with a clear sense of purpose.

One corridor led into another as I continued along silently. Like the snake or manic lawn mower from before, anything could be prowling about. There’d been chairs and stools that roamed along rickety wooden legs. Coffee machines with extension cords high in the air as if sniffing out their next target. How some of the store’s items were animated still remained a mystery. None of them were around now, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t walk past a toaster or lamp only for it to spring to life. 

Things in here had a way of blending in.

I continued the rest of the way down an electronics section, then crouched down behind a plasma tv that overlooked a wide open space. The plethora of stalls with packed food seemed innocuous at first glance. Trails of steam and smoke rose high into the air as stovetops and barbeques slaved away, cooking food that seemed to never burn. Clean produce lay apart from the piles and piles of bread, canned goods, and sweet desserts, all fresh and meticulously ordered. 

My first thought was to dive right in and grab as much as I could. With this much food so close to my fort, it would be easy enough to come back and restock. 

I would have listened to that thought a few days ago, when I was oblivious and wide-eyed with fear. As it stood, this nightmare of a store had one positive aspect: I learned fast.

I went straight to the canned goods. Dried beans and sliced peaches could be surprisingly awkward to carry, particularly when - even at eighteen - you had a body that refused to fill out anywhere but the stomach. Three cans stacked against each arm was enough to set my wrists to shaking. Though I knew I should probably take another look around, more garden hoses or the damned lawn mower could be back at any moment. Really, they just liked making me panic.

Just a couple aisles back, Arne. Slow and steady like before.

The first turn past the plasma tv nearly caused me to yell out in surprise. Halfway down the aisle stood a figure with their back turned. Their checkered uniform was draped around sticklike arms, which hung down below baggy beige pants. A matching hat hid any other details apart from the shorn brown hair.

I itched to step closer and call out to the employee. Come on, I thought. You’ve got one chance, Arne, don’t blow it now. If I’m right this can all be over soon.

The stranger made the decision easy for me. One second they were standing stock-still, the next I was staring wide-eyed at a faceless mask of bone white skin. Its hair was fused to the front and sides, revealing mounds of flesh in the place of ears. A too-long neck bulged out above its chest, ramrod straight even as the rest began to twitch. 

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“The store is closing soon. Please exit the building.” The words shouldn’t have been possible but I flinched back all the same, more shocked by the cadence and tone. Cheerful and eerily upbeat, like it was this thing’s happiest day on the job.

The fear that had held me rooted in place evaporated as I dropped the cans to the floor. I didn’t bother to glance behind me as I sprinted in the opposite direction, feet pounding on the hard concrete. I had just enough time to question whether running away from my fort was the right decision before I was back at the food court.

Any one of the kiosks or stacks of food would make a good hiding spot. I ducked behind a bulky hotdog stand, breath mingling with the perpetually cooking weenies. They made me think back to before I’d gotten lost, walking down the aisles of a local supermarket with my father in tow. I’d been hungry that day and made a beeline for the food venders. Hotdogs were the big selling item and I’d grabbed more than a dozen. They’d quickly gotten eaten over the past several days, and now they were all that stood between me and the faceless horror.

I placed my hand along the rim of the kiosk and peered around the edge. This vantage point afforded me a wide view of the surrounding aisles, all of them leading into the food court.

A high-pitched engine whine sounded off to my left. I’d never thought a lawn mower could sound ominous, but this one had proved anything was possible. After the whine ended, the slow scuffle of squeaky wheels resumed before coming to a stop. I didn’t know how this machine tracked me so well, only that I could buy some time by throwing something sturdy inside its razor-sharp maw.

Ignoring the table leg tucked under my belt I reached out and grabbed one of the stovetop pans. It radiated heat, but the metal was tough - enough to buy another minute or two. This would be my one chance to get away. So I held the pan tight and settled down to wait, listening intently.

I had never feared the unknown before. My parents taught me growing up it was just another stepping stone to be conquered. You couldn’t tear down the walls of fear and apprehension unless you acted. I always faced the unfamiliar head-on.

Now, I was...I was going to get killed.

I prepared my weapon and sprung up, ready to face down both monsters swinging. Instead, I was gawking. In the intersection of the outgoing shelves the faceless man and mower were a few feet apart. They just stood there, as if waiting to see who moved first.

A screech of rubber broke the silence. The mower released another high-pitched whine as it hurtled forward, back tires lifting off the ground to present a maw of gnashing blades. At the last moment it launched airborne towards the faceless man’s chest.

And lurched to a stop as long, spindly arms held it in place.

With an almost casual indifference the faceless man raised the mower up before slamming it down. Chips of metal cascaded out from the impact, fragmenting out like shrapnel from a grenade. I ducked with a yelp as the hotdog stand was peppered with steel. 

It should have been impossible. Seventy pounds of raging metal, and the mower was tossed around as if it was nothing more than a screeching toddler. Sure, for most of the animated objects - and that laundry list was extensive - enhanced strength and durability was a key attribute. This monstrous employee took that one terrible step further.

Even as the mower tried to move one of its back wheels was ripped clean off. The other three followed in quick succession, leaving behind an amputated, broken body that shuddered in a pool of bleeding oil. It gave one last high-pitched whine before the faceless man’s fist punched clear through the engine cover and into the motor behind.

You’ve got to be kidding me. I bolted from behind the food stand in a maddened rush. It was stupid to forgo stealth completely, but after witnessing the mower get dissected, there was no way I was going to dawdle. 

I passed stacks of food and drink, then leaped over one piled up on the floor in an exit leading away and burst out into an unfamiliar aisle. The passage was wider and better supplied than most. All about, speakers intermixed with printers, computers and headphones in ordered rows. They were all still for the moment, though that could change in the blink of an eye. 

You can keep running until your legs fall off, I thought to myself. Or you can get somewhere out of reach.

I peered up the nearest shelf, reaching out one unsteady hand. The bottommost platform was just barely low enough to touch, and a few of the devices shifted out of position as I lifted myself up, arms struggling at the effort.

Grunting out quick, erratic breathes I fumbled to the top. The lights from above shone on more boxes both open and sealed, price tags hanging off at odd angles. It was a peculiar thing to fixate on given my situation. Up close, each were rounded to the nearest dollar. There was no discrepancy save for an increase in price.

Or so I thought. As I leaned back on the shelf to rest, my elbow knocked into a square wrapped box with a tag that appeared different to the others. 30 HP. What the hell?

The sudden ripping of tape utterly shocked me. With a shout I stumbled away as a pair of headphones sprung out. Thick braided cords darted forward to wrap around my legs, tightening like a noose to halt any chance at escape.

I grabbed the table leg from under my belt and lashed out. The serrated edge cut pitifully short, quivering to a stop amidst the writhing nylon tentacles. 

-  2 damage (glancing)

My heart skipped a beat at the brief report. Cutting through the cords was not going to work, not in a million years. That left me with one other option. 

As the cords strained to drag me closer I reached out and grabbed a fistful in both hands. There was a moment of stark silence as I launched one of the headphones high into the air before pulling down hard at an angle. 

Even in the heat of the moment, momentum really was a beautiful thing. The headphone burst against the concrete floor in a mess of wire and plastic. 

- 13 damage (bludgeoning). Cheap Headset dies.

+ 10 xp

This was going to work! Another quick look back at the remaining device pulled me up short. Be it some preternatural intelligence or emotional loss for its kin, the headset had changed tactics. I kicked back with my now-free leg as it shuffled closer, and sparks flew up across the shelf in tune to the rotating speakers. The cushion on the speakers had sheared off. Previously embedded metal dug deep grooves into the shelf, screeching along inch by inch. 

I glanced at the spinning blades, then to the bulky, heavy stereo box in the headset’s path. I found myself smiling. Sharp and dangerous as it was up close, the damned thing was still fragile as an egg. 

I picked up the box with a grunt, holding it up high long enough for the headset to shuffle under. At the last moment I heaved the box down, putting all my weight into the blow. Plastic and metal crunched against the steel shelf. I didn’t stop to look before lifting the box again and again, letting go long after the blades had gone silent. 

- 24 damage (critical). Cheap headset dies

+10 xp 

Payment Earned!

Twenty points have been added to your wallet. Spend wisely!

I took a deep breath, concentrated on the display, and stared in disbelief. None of this made any sense, from the random popups displaying numbers and experience to the freakish horrors that tried to kill me around every corner. And now I was getting paid for destroying a pair of headsets? It would have been funny, comical even, just a couple of days ago. As it stood, I was too wired up to laugh. 

That same tension almost caused me to fall off the shelf when a voice called out. “Glad to see you’re still alive.”