Ikea

Part two Shadows Unveiled

I awoke, disoriented, to the faint glow of the emergency lights. Blinking away the remnants of a restless sleep, my eyes focused on the imposing digital clock—6:54 AM. A surge of relief washed over me as the room, once plunged into darkness, now flickered with restored illumination. The vast expanse of the store loomed before me, and the sheer scale of our surroundings sent a shiver down my spine.

Glancing at Ten, I felt a glimmer of hope. The lights were back, and the mammoth store retained its colossal appearance. With determination, I gently lifted Ten, her weight a tangible reminder of the challenges we faced. The clock advanced to 6:56 AM as I carefully descended the ladder, the metallic echoes resonating through the vast space.

Reaching the ground, I cradled Ten in my arms, her presence both comforting and burdensome. The clock, relentless in its ticking, marked 6:57, urging me forward. Spotting the exit, a surge of adrenaline propelled me towards it. 6:58, and Ten still nestled in my arms, questioned our chances. "We're going home," I reassured her, a fleeting smile crossing my face. Hope flickered as 6:59 approached.

The moment arrived at 7:00 AM. Anticipation swelled as the music resumed, but the doors, the elusive gateway to freedom, remained steadfastly closed. Panic seized me. "What is it?" Ten inquired, her voice tinged with concern. Desperation fueled my futile attempts to force the doors open. "HELP! PLEASE HELP!" I screamed, pounding on the unyielding barrier. I sank to the floor, defeated, tears streaming down my face. "We're stuck here," I admitted through sobs, the weight of our predicament unbearable.

As despair settled in, I let out a primal scream. My eyes darted towards an approaching employee, a potential savior. "No, no, NOOOOOO!" I shrieked, but to my bewilderment, the employee walked past without acknowledging our distress. Why were we spared?

Determined to find a way out, I hoisted Ten onto my shoulder and explored the store. A glimmer of hope appeared in the form of first aid kits. Hastily grabbing one, I opened it, revealing only a mysterious bottle labeled "drink." Skepticism gnawed at me, but Ten's life hung in the balance. "Ten, drink this," I urged, passing her the uncertain elixir. Weak and silent, she consumed its contents. A groan escaped her lips as she removed the scarf from her injured leg. Astonishment filled the air as the wound vanished. Ten rose to her feet, a mixture of disbelief and gratitude in her eyes. "It worked," she whispered, embracing me in a hug that carried the weight of our shared survival.

9:55 am.

Ten and I have been tirelessly scouring the abandoned store for food, our makeshift base located in a hidden corner, strategically using a bathtub as our stash. The relentless efforts have paid off as we managed to construct a secure enclave, keeping it beyond the reach of lurking employees-turned-monsters.

As the clock ticks, we exchange words about our next moves. "Hey Everest, what time..." I begin, but my sentence is cut short as the lights abruptly flicker off. Panic sets in, and instinctively, I grab Ten's arm, propelling us into our fortified hiding spot. Underneath the bed we carefully positioned, fear takes over, and I find myself succumbing to tears. The situation is dire – seconds away from potential demise, trapped in an unending labyrinth of shelves, surrounded by grotesque creatures. In such moments, prayer seems like the only recourse.

"Everest..." Ten's voice breaks through the darkness, her tone measured. She joins me under the bed, and for a moment, we find solace in our concealed refuge. "I think I can find a way out," she utters cautiously, prompting me to react with urgency. "NO, YOU CAN'T. STAY THERE, AND DON'T MOVE!" I scream, my desperation evident.

Attempting to calm me, Ten shushes me gently. "I told my mom and dad where we are, and they're coming for me," she reassures. I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Will they make it? How will they get in?" I inquire, settling down beside her. "I don't know," Ten confesses, laying down on the bed. Fatigue washes over us, manifesting in a simultaneous yawn. I find myself mirroring her actions, lying down next to Ten, and before I comprehend it, the weight of the situation pulls us into a deep, uneasy slumber.