Milo’s eyes shot open as the overhead lights flicked on, blinding him. He put a hand over his eyes as he rolled over on the mattress he had fandangled up onto the food court's roof. Nine in the morning already? He sighed and drew the thick blanket up over his head, blocking out most of the light as he lay there, coming to his senses. It had been three days now of him waking up to this nightmare at nine o'clock sharp. Milo had decided against exploring too far into the Ikea given his injured ankle, and had instead opted to set up a sleeping area on top of the food courts roof.

An experience that had been entirely too uncomfortable until he managed to get this bed up here. It wasn’t a king-sized like he would have preferred, but it was far easier to toss up a full-sized, and really that was all the room he needed. Blankets and pillows had been easy, it was as simple as tossing them up on the roof to be used when he got back up there. Now it was actually quite cozy, not counting the fact that he was in a retail dimension surrounded by faceless monsters.

He sighed again at remembering the one he had killed in the aisle of desks. Milo could still see it from the roof, the body hadn’t moved an inch since he crushed its head with his foot. He didn’t want to even look at the thing let alone touch it, so moving it out of sight hadn’t been a priority. What was worse at the moment was that there were now even more of them skulking around the aisles now.

Three of them to be exact, all with those same featureless faces and disproportionate bodies. These last three days they had been shuffling about below in the food court and of course in the aisles surrounding, and it had been a pain for Milo to avoid them. Milo had to find out through error that these things actually didn’t care about what he was doing at all. He had been scrounging the food court below for some goodies when one passed right through the food court, not even sparing a glance at Milo before leaving.

He had been directly in front of it though when it spotted him, and Milo had screamed in terror, ready for a fight. Yet… it hadn’t reacted to him at all. Curious, he repeated this, moving into the path (while about a hundred feet away) of a staff member, and it had just moved right by Milo without a glance. These things didn’t have eyes and ears after all… but how did the last one know where to chase him? Perhaps they could feel vibrations through the floor? Something like that. But why then did none of them attack him when they noticed Milo trudging about?

He then had a thought. What if they only became aggressive once provoked? Milo throwing the desk at that creature had likely triggered it to attack him. Since coming to that conclusion, he’d been avoiding the staff and not attacking them. Considering the fact that they would only try to turn him to paste if Milo attempted the same on them first, it seemed like a good idea. Despite this new found knowledge, Milo still avoided them because they were scary and weird.

He yawned as he finally threw the blanket off him, rubbing at tired eyes as his ankle throbbed. Definitely felt better than it did yesterday and the day before, but it still smarted a bit and that hand-shaped bruise wasn’t going away for a while. His stomach gurgled, indicating that it was now time to stuff it full of food to shut it the hell up.

Milo stood slowly, still favoring his good leg. When he was up from the ground completely, he stretched, looking out over the horizon of infinite aisles. It occurred to him then that the situation he was currently in was sort of like a thought experiment come to life. ‘What if you were trapped in an infinite retail store?’ Or ‘What if you were trapped on a desert island with three things you could bring with you?’. Milo knew what he would have brought in with him if he could have.

Thing number one: a backpack for obvious reasons. Thing number two… a gun? Maybe but he’d run out of ammo real quick and Ikea wasn’t exactly known for selling ammo. A baseball bat? Yeah, make it one of those heavy-ass titanium ones and he’d be good to go. Thing number three… a friend for sure. It was always good to share the madness with others, right? And it was far better than just being in here all alone.

Nodding to himself, he climbed down from the food courts roof, a routine he had grown somewhat accustomed to during his stay as the resident raccoon. Water had run out of the fridge now, but there was still some juice and there was a functional bathroom with a sink behind the check-out counter. The only thing unfortunate about that was the lack of toilet paper or the impending lack he should say.

Once it finally did run out it wouldn’t really be that big a deal, there were plenty of bedsheets around ripe for the browning. Curiously, the food he hadn’t eaten yet still remained fresh and hot, though that was dwindling down quickly as well. Milo had a big appetite, even for a man of his massive size. Someone he knew before his bodybuilding days had referred to him as ‘Tarrare’ but Milo had no Godly idea what that meant.

He inhaled an entire salmon decorated with meatballs as he thought of what this 'Tarrare' word could mean, when a sudden realization hit him. If he kept eating like this without following his normal routine of exercising, then he was going to lose his cut! Milo paused, sparing a glower at the meatball he had raised to eye-level.

Who the hell cared!? He was trapped in Ikea, he had more important things to worry about than his cut! If he ever got out of here it wouldn’t be that hard to shave off whatever pudge he may accumulate. Nodding sagely to himself, he guiltlessly devoured the meatball, the morsel screaming for mercy as Milo crushed it with his molars.

Despite not really caring about maintaining a certain diet… Milo felt wrong for not exercising. The only part of his body that was sore were his legs from the intense sprint the other day, but even that was a faint echo of the soreness it had been. Milo felt so very wrong for not having some part of his body feel at least a little bit sore…

Well, he could just do strongman training instead of bodybuilding. Milo knew strongmen with interesting exercise routines, consisting of lifting heavy awkward objects…

Like furniture.

Yes that was it, if Milo lifted some furniture for a bit he’d feel right as rain, those heavy desks would do for some back and chest, not to mention legs. With a small smile, he made way toward the aisle of desks, pausing to wait for the staff to trudge well away from him before beginning his improvised exercise routine. He grabbed a solid mahogany desk as wide as he was tall, and strained to lift it off the ground, lifting with his legs before letting his back and arms keep it suspended.

He breathed harder as he began to walk with the thing, moving down the aisle at an awkward waddle. The pain in his ankle flared but it wasn’t intense enough to stop him from training, so he pushed on for hours, well into the afternoon by the time he read on his phone. Milo had lugged about every piece of furniture he could find, loving the ache present in his muscles as he sat down next to the fridge, plugging in his phone and chugging down some juice.

It was around seven p.m now, a couple hours before closing. Well, he’d fill up on water from the bathroom sink and then scarf down whatever was left here behind the counter. Milo would leave this food court tomorrow, he decided. He would make off with a few take-out bags of juice and refilled water bottles. He’d also pack up on those chocolate bars and other assorted candies he’d seen behind the counter. Had to keep up his carbs after all, especially since he had no idea how long he’d be walking tomorrow.

By time he was done packing the bags, it was eight fifty-eight, and a staff member walked in right as he unplugged his phone. Milo froze and stared at the creature, unmoving. The creature didn’t move either, it just stood there motionless aside from occasionally swaying. This one was a fair bit smaller than the one Milo had killed, shorter than him by a hand.

That didn’t make those disgustingly large mitts on it less intimidating though. Milo knew from experience how much force those could crush with.

Feeling curious, Milo grabbed up his metal pole and said “Hello?”

The creature didn’t move and Milo stomped on the ground as hard as he could, but still the beast didn’t react.

“Can you hear me?” Milo asked.

Nothing.

“Well that’s just rude, ignoring me like that fella.” Milo said, jaded “Look, if this was about the guy the other day I’m sorry, I’m not used to fellas that look like… uh, that… err, no offense?” Milo said in a confused tone.

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Just what the hell was he doing, talking to this thing all casual like?

Milo shook his head and put his phone away, creeping around the beast and heading around it to exit the food court. As soon as it was out of sight, the lights went out and the jazz radio went dead, leaving Milo with only the sound of his own breath.

“The store is now closed,” He heard a peppy voice say “Please leave the store.” Followed by footsteps rapidly approaching from behind him.

Milo spun to see the shadow of the staff member bearing down on him, long ape-like arms outstretched to grab him. Milo bit off a scream as he whacked the creature’s arm with his pole, throwing it off balance. He lashed out with the now bent pole again, smacking it in the ribs and sending it tumbling away.

The pole was now misshapen and useless. Not surprising considering the fact that it was meant to be a lamp post, not a baseball bat. At that moment though Milo didn’t care, it should have held itself together for just a bit longer, the piece of junk! He threw it in the direction the staff fell in, hearing it collide with something fleshy before hearing that eery voice repeat its earlier direction.

“The store is now closed, please leave the store.” In that same exact sickly calm customer service voice.

What the hell!? He thought these things were supposed to be docile unless provoked! He backpedaled, wincing as pain shot up his ankle but not slowing a wit as long arms swiped for his head from the blackness. Would that have killed him, had those fists found their mark? Based on the sound of that fist passing through the air like a whip crack…

Absolutely.

Without thinking he lashed out with his own fist, feeling it collide with a mass of flesh before the employee was sent tumbling back end over end, or at least that was what it sounded like. How hard would fighting this thing have been had Milo been a normal-sized man? He pushed the thought aside, turning his focus back on the fight, for that was what it was. It helped that he could only see the things outline and not that horrid fleshy head, but he was still terrified.

He remembered not to run though, if he did this thing would catch him. The only option was to fight. Milo strained his eyes and saw that mishappen outline rising shakily from the hardwood floor of the food court. Milo would have to rush it and stomp it until it was dead, same as the last one he had killed. He'd need to make sure that it didn't-

“Please leave the store, we are now closed.” Milo heard from behind him before he felt hands wrapping around his shoulders.

Milo screamed as he was thrown bodily into a nearby table, feeling his back shriek in pain as he collided with it. The table fell over as Milo skidded across its surface, falling off the edge and coming to land on one of the chairs seated next to it. The chair broke beneath his weight and he fell with a hard thud to the floor. He wheezed and struggled to stand, two pairs of squeaking footsteps quickly drawing closer. No, he refused to die in an Ikea food court! Anger replaced fear and he grabbed the table he'd just flipped over, flinging it as hard as he could at the two outlines and seeing them both get knocked down with a crash of wood on flesh.

Milo snarled and hobbled over to the closest one, pure wrath heating his blood. Once he reached it, Milo lifted his foot and began stomping on its head with his good leg. Its arms had been half raised toward Milo before they fell limp at its sides.

“It is now closing time-” The remaining one said.

“It's your closing time freak!” Milo shouted over it, lifting up a nearby chair and bringing it down on the thing's torso with a crack.

Despite the feeling of flesh caving inward beneath the force of the blow, it said “The store is now closed.” And threw a punch at Milo from its prone position, the blow connecting with his gut and bowling him over to wretch out his lunch.

The pain of getting gut punched like that dropped Milo to his knees and made his eyes bulge. Was this what it felt like to get shot? He vomited on the things head, the staff uncaring for the vile-smelling fluid rolling over its blank face and dripping to the hardwood floor below. Milo then saw a massive hand reaching for him and he ducked under it, coming face to face with the Swedish demon. He roared in fear and rage, and began hammering at the thing's head with his fists wildly. He must have looked more like an oversized toddler beating on a stuffed toy, rather than a man fighting for his life, but at that moment Milo couldn’t bring himself to care.

His aching stomach protested sharply with every motion, but Milo knew that if he stopped beating for even a moment he would be finished. It wasn’t until he fell over atop the creature from exhaustion that he realized it was dead. He scrambled back on all fours away from the corpse of the creature, breathing hard and nursing his aching stomach.

Did he have internal bleeding? He didn’t taste or smell copper… maybe he got lucky since that punch he received was from an awkward position. It couldn’t belt Milo full force from the ground but… what if it had though? An unsettling thought. Milo’s back finally hit the wall and he breathed raggedly as he stared at the two outlines laying there limp.

His whole body ached something fierce, and he nearly brought himself to tears by just the simple act of standing. Supporting himself with the wall he found himself on, he limped out of the food court freezing at the entrance to remember that there was a third around here somewhere as well. He looked about in the darkness ahead and behind him, but didn’t hear anything.

In his current condition could he still fight one of those things? Milo didn’t want to find out. He quickly rounded the food courts exit to his improvised climbing area. It was composed of a couple of mattresses just stacked on top of one another, but they eased the pull up to the roof. He groaned as he began pulling himself up onto the roof, the sharp pain in his gut aggravated by the motion.

He was about half-way up when he heard “Please leave the store.” Below him, followed by the sound of fists swiping through the air.

Milo felt the wind of those blows brush past his legs as he quickly scrambled the rest of the way onto the roof and away from the edge, hearing the unseen creature repeat itself again and again. He pulled out his phone and flicked on the light, slowly standing and moving to the edge to look down at the creature.

It stared up at him with that damn blank face, hands scratching at the wall in an attempt to reach the edge. If it stood on the mattresses it could have reached easily… would it be smart enough to realize that or was this thing like a zombie and would only try and come straight at him? Milo stared at the thing’s rending fingers as it dug shallow furrows in the wood, repeating the command to leave the store like a mantra.

Milo then… began recording the thing with his phone. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was doing it but it felt… it felt appropriate. Maybe he could show this as some kind of proof of what he had been through once he got out of here? Even then, these days most people probably would think the footage he was capturing to be fake. Despite the thought, Milo kept recording, sitting down and just watching the thing try and reach him for an hour before finally putting the phone away.

Milo could not entertain the idea of sleep, especially knowing that this creature knew he was up here and that it was trying to reach him. So he stayed awake, watching it for the rest of the night. The hours dragged on but the staff never relented in its attempts to reach Milo, still uttering its mantra for him to leave the store.

Well Milo would have if he knew where the damn exit even was!

He seethed at the monster until the lights flicked back on, his aches and pains fading only slightly. Then, as suddenly as that, the staff ceased its futile attacks, hands falling limp at its sides as it trudged off slowly. Milo stared after it as it went, perplexed as to why it had ceased its attacks. He had been mentally preparing himself to fight that thing all night and it just decides to up and leave?

Fine by him.

The lights coming on seem to have… switched something in their behavior. Milo pondered what it could have been, suffering his aches and pains until it finally hit him: they were employees… they’re following the schedule of the store! Like all retail stores, employees tried to beat customers to death if found in the store after closing hours.

Of course.

Just like real life.

Milo shook his head and chuckled to himself. In all seriousness, he’d need to keep this in mind moving forward if he ever wanted to escape Ikea in one piece.