The scarred guard smiled towards Michael, seemingly unaware how odd their naming sense was.
Michael paused for a moment, “Y'all sure named this place something interesting.”
“Look, I know it sounds dumb," the guard said hastily. "But certain sections of the store have higher concentrations of certain items. Naming towns after the item helps people navigate better. It’s what every village in this place does.”
The guard's eyes lingered on Michael's gun.
“Where’d you get all that fancy stuff, is it safe to assume that explosion we heard earlier was from you?”
Michael nodded, gripping his gun ever so much tighter, “Yeah, that was me. I may actually be willing to trade some of my stuff if you’ve got anything worth offering.”
'Might keep me from getting mugged,' Michael thought, watching the guards carefully.
The man's demeanor grew excited before immediately deflating.
“We honestly don’t have much worthwhile to offer you,” the guard said.
“No magical artifacts or anything?”
“No, what?”
Michael pushed past the question, “Well do you have any idea where some might be?”
The guard scratched his neck awkwardly, seemingly unsure of how to answer, “Well, if you're looking for special items, your best bets probably the staff's den. No one's ever gone down there and made it back, so there could be pretty much anything down there. Not sure I'd bet one anything magical being down there though.”
Michael pondered the suggestion.
“Anyways, you can stay for as long as you want. We always welcome new members.”
The man once more stared at Michaels shotgun with a hungry look in his eyes.
“We’d love to have someone with your...talents.”
Michael was really starting to get, ‘I’m going to rob you’, vibes from this guy.
'I’ll just need to keep an eye on these people,' Michael thought.
The man motioned for Michael to follow him into the town, the other guard staying behind to keep watch.
And as Michael walked deeper into the village, he noticed more and more people coming out of the woodwork to catch a look at the new guy. How they knew he was here so soon, he didn't know. The place itself though seemed to have been shoddily put together, the walls being the only thing that looked structurally sound.
Housing seemed to be constructed with whatever they could find, usually being pieces of wood cannibalized from furniture or other items. It reminded Michael of a shantytown, or a slum perhaps.
“If you want to make any sort of deal with us, you’ll need to speak to our leader, Samuel," the guard said as he walked. "He makes all our big decisions, it’s what kept us alive for so long.”
He led Michael to a small building, watching him enter before walking away to return to his post.
That explosion had indeed riled up the staff, they’d needed him back on watch.
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Walking into the small hut, Michael quickly spotted a short man wearing glasses. He had long slicked back hair, and he wore a well-worn lab coat and jeans.
The man immediately noticed the foundation symbol on Michael's armor and smiled solemnly.
“Well if it isn’t a member of the SCP foundation, what can I do for you?”
“Oh, you recognize the symbol?” Michael asked.
“Well I’d hope I would. I worked for them for the better part of twenty years.”
At that Michael looked at the lab coat the man was wearing in a new light. It looked similar to the ones he was used to seeing staff in the facility wear, but this looked to have had significantly more use. Patches and poor stitching covered the thing, and a few faded stains marred the material.
“So you were a scientist for the foundation?” Michael said, more a statement than a question.
“Yeah, I was. Unfortunately for me they had me out doing field research. Which is how I ended up here,” the scientist said gesturing all around with a mock smile.
“How long has this town been here?” Michael asked, diverting the conversation.
The scientist frowned, “Well, I’ve been here since the foundation first sent us in to investigate this goddamn IKEA eight months ago, but some of my people have been trapped in here for years. The exits move throughout the dimension constantly, they’re unpredictable. So you and me, my friend, are stuck,” the scientist said, pouring Michael a drink and placing it on the table.
Michael eyed the drink and saw the chance to make a deal.
“I wouldn't exactly say that I'm stuck here. What if I could offer you and your people a way out?” Michael asked, picking up the drink and giving it a sniff. It smelled of cheap alcohol.
The man turned away from the drinks, interest burning in his eyes, “How would you do that?”
“I’m an SCP myself." Michael explained, taking a sip from his cup. "I'm what’s known as a dimension hopper. I’m only going to be here for a little while before I’ll eventually just pop back into my dimension.”
“And you're saying you can take us back with you?” Samuel pressed.
“Yes, for a price.”
“Then name it.”
Michael simply smiled, that’s what he’d wanted to hear.
“Before we get down to it, we should properly introduce ourselves first, you can call me Tommy.”
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Michael reached out his hand for a handshake and Samuel followed suit, his grip tight.
“Call me Samuel, and for your sake I really hope you're telling the truth.”
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After several hours of negotiation, a deal was made. In exchange for helping him raid the staff room, Michael would grant them their freedom from this dimension.
That was assuming he didn’t get yoinked back to his dimension beforehand. He didn’t tell them that though. It was better that they believe he has some control over his ability.
He didn’t want them to try and hold him hostage until the shift came or something equally nipharious.
He'd also managed to find the IKEA in his laptop, listed as a known SCP. Although the only new thing he'd learned from it was the designation they'd given it. SCP 3008, that was it. Apparently, the foundation never really put much effort into learning about this one, content to put a fence around the entryway in their world and just call it a day.
It did however reassure several of his already standing theories about the place. As far as they knew the inside of the place stretched on infinitely. Though neither he nor they had gone nearly far enough to be making that sort of claim.
Moving past what he could gain from the little knowledge provided to him by the foundation the preparations for their expedition went along quickly. Once the people were offered a chance to escape this place, they'd eagerly taken it. Someone with firearms leading the expedition probably helped quite a bit too, especially once Samuel had spoken out for him.
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After a few nights had passed, the expedition finally ready. Michael had fifteen men and eight women to work with, roughly half the town with the rest hanging back to hold down the fort in case things went south.
The army was armed with hand crafted spears, crossbows and armor. None save the crossbows were very fancy, but it would have to do.
Michael knew that this whole plan was a massive risk, but he needed to keep his momentum going. The last shift had been a disaster, he’d only lived because he'd lucky enough to be wearing the right piece of jewelry at the time.
No more of that, he was going to take the initiative to do what he needed to survive. To gain riches, strength, power. It wouldn't just be handed to him, he needed to go out and snatch it for himself.
If he failed to do so it would only be a matter of time before he ended up like Tommy, dead and alone in another world where he'd been forced to face something outside his capabilities. That was something he vehemently refused to let happen. So he marched forward into the unknown, with a smile on his face.
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After a few hours of walking, they’d arrived at the monster’s den. Despite them calling it the staff room, Michael figured it would've been more appropriate to just call it a pit. It looked like it used to be covered up by shelving, but for whatever reason all of that had been moved aside. Stacked neatly beside the massive hole.
Dozens of the staff surrounded the entrance.
The lights were still on so they shouldn’t have been hostile yet, but Michael wasn’t risking it. No team had come back from this place, regardless of the time. Now wasn't the time to grow lax.
He had everyone ready their crossbows, lifting them high, leveled at the monsters before signaling them to fire.
More than half of the creatures dropped immediately. The ones who weren’t hit seemed unbothered, not responding in the slightest to their comrades' deaths.
A moment later the crossbows were reloaded, and the rest of the staff were killed in the second volley.
Michael pushed forwards, leading the group with his shotgun at the ready.
He shined his flashlight down into the darkness of the pit, revealing a long stretch of ladder leading downwards.
Michael glanced back towards the rest of them, and with a shrug he and his crew began to descend the ladder.
It didn’t take long before they made it to the bottom, a small illuminated hallway making up the interior.
Soon after a member of the staff rounded the corner, it’s body contorted and limbs sharpened.
“This area is off limits to customers. Please leave and return to your shopping.”
Before it could advance, it was riddled with crossbow bolts, killing it immediately and sending its body crumpling to the ground.
But down the hall the same phrase echoed repeatedly, overlapping hundreds of times into a chorus of noise.
“This area is off limits to customers. Please leave and return to your shopping.”
“This area is off limits to customers. Please leave and return to your shopping.”
“This area is off limits to customers. Please leave and return to your shopping.”
'Well this isn’t good.'
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Progress was slow, Samuel had ordered his men to barricade the ladder to keep the staff off their backs for as long as they could. So far none had shown up, but that could change at any moment.
Each monster they killed gave way to a new one as they slowly moved down the hall. Luckily the corridor was narrow, making it a good choke point while also hindering the movements of the bigger workers.
The preparations they'd done beforehand were working well, the spears and bolts piercing deep into the bodies of the workers. Prebuild barricades were slowly being pushed down the hall. They weren't exactly the sturdiest things, but they were still doing their job.
However, despite all of this, they would have been overrun many times by now if they didn’t have Michael’s firearms. Primitive weaponry could only do so much in the dace of monsters like these.
With each worker they killed, they made it a bit further down the hall. Step by step, bit by bit they went.
This process continued for several hours, until they eventually made it to the end of the hall where a door labeled ‘Manager’s Office’ rested in the wall.
Michael eyed it with a bit of hesitation. This had all been extremely dangerous thus far, and it was a miracle they'd made it here with no losses. A miracle, but not a grand one. Others had likely made it here, and they'd still never returned, but he could stop tight here and now if he wanted to. He could turn around, call off the deal and ensure that all these people made it out.
'No, I can't,' Michael thought. Watching the grinning faces of the men and women behind him. They reveled in the thrill of a hard battle being won, the adrenaline from overcoming something they'd thought they couldn't.
'I can't just leave. Not if the only outcome from it is keeping some people safe. I need to get stronger, or I will die. It's not a question of if, but when. I'm rolling a dice every time I visit a world, and from the looks of it, my dice is rigged. The question is, am I really willing to risk all these people just for myself? For my own survival.'
Michael looked inside himself, and then back at the tired, but still smiling faces surrounding him and found that yes, he could indeed do it. Even if some of them died he could live with it. He valued himself more than all these people.
It was a cold feeling to come to terms with, but one that he needed to do sooner rather than later.
So with a nod from Michael, Samuel took the lead, carefully opening the door with all weapons raised.
What they found inside was a large workshop with hundreds of thousands of half-completed items covering various work tables.
Michael moved with the group, not leading, not trailing behind, but situated in the middle with his shotgun at the ready.
His eyes scanned the nearby tables as they carefully entered the room, but all he could find were things that he'd find in a normal IKEA.
Not very surprising, but disappointing nonetheless. There had to be more to this place. It had monsters, an infinite expanse, moving exits. So it had to have secrets, somewhere at least.
Suddenly a feminine voice echoed out, “Attempting to steal from me, eh?”
The sound of somebody snapping their fingers rang out, and then everyone around Michael fell to the ground.
They writhed and screamed as their skin began covering their face, their bodies stretching and changing, slowly shifting into the same abominations he’d seen filling the tunnel.
Wide eyed, Michael moved away from them, looking for the source of the voice with his weapon raised.
Then he saw her, and he couldn’t help but feel disgusted by her appearance.
Her body was similar to the workers they’d been slaughtering, except that she had no form. Instead, her body constantly shifted and warped, like clay being squished and stretched in somebody hands. It was a disturbing sight to behold, and one that caused Michael to hesitate.
She wore the same IKEA uniform as the rest of the creatures. The only difference was that she had a name tag simply labeling her as the ‘MANAGER’.
She studied Michael for a moment, probably confused why he wasn’t being reconstructed like the others, before chuckling to herself.
“An apostle of order wearing the crown of an exiled god? How peculiar indeed.”
Her body moved impossibly fast, appearing in front of Michael within fractions of a second and pinning him to the ground. Her head twisted towards Michael, an expression forming on her face even though she had no eyes or mouth. It was like somebody had hollowed out pieces of her body to form the expression, leaving voids behind in their wake.
“What an interesting creature you are," she said, her face disturbingly close to his. "Now, please tell me what you’re doing in my workshop, oh apostle of order.”