————————— PART THREE —————————

“Mr. Camargo! Do you understand?” 

“No, I don’t. I want to leave.” 

“Lucky for you, and me, that’s the point of a recess. Come back without the dramatics. I don’t want to hear an obscenity exit out of your mouth again.” 

“No, if I fucking leave, I’m not fucking coming back, I’m not taking a fucking recess-I’m leaving, you can call a recess, I’m not calling it a recess-“

“-You can call it whatever adorable misrepresentation of your circumstance you want Mr. Camargo, but frankly, the fact that you have the nerve to sit before the victim's family with that kind of irreverence, absolutely disgusts me-“ 

“-Well then I shouldn’t be sitting here-“

“-Mr. Camargo does the word ‘Contempt’ mean anything to you………… Mr. Camargo-“

“-Goddammit-STOP!”

She rubbed her forehead.

“I want him gone, but he’s not done. Not even close. Get him back here in thirty minutes.-“

“-STOP TALKING STOP IT I CAN’T……. I can’t-……. I can’t-….. I can’t breathe…. I… I need an ambulance-

“-Mr. Camargo, please-“

“-Oh God, my head………”

There was no ringing to warn me, but my ears were beginning to bleed.

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It’s like my skull is twisting. I can’t see.

 

 

Well, I can see again. The lights are back. My phone glows 10:27 AM as my eyes slowly peel open. 

So, what happened here? Is the store open again?

There’s nobody walking around, staring at me making myself comfortable in a bedroom display, but it’s early. I think they open at 10:00 AM, maybe it’s just sparse right now. 

That idea gave me a little bit of hope to get up and try walking again. 

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I walked for about two hours before letting it go.

My resistance is more than dragging its feet. I’m just about ready to accept my departure from denial. One giant red flag within my current environment should probably do the trick.

You know, a red flag along the lines of looking up and seeing that there’s no longer any ceiling above my head. Well, it’s kind of there, just what looks like about thirty miles up into the stratosphere. It’s like I’m outside, but instead of blue, it’s a skyline of sheltered popcorn beige, where light is just implied, and not really coming from the ceiling itself. 

Am I describing it well? It’s like an IKEA, yeah. Except, completely encapsulating. 

Encapsulating isn’t a good word, infinite is…… 

Well sadly, infinite is perfect.

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New objective: Cope with the irrepressible loss of my sanity. 

Well, I think I’m actually okay, so objective complete I guess? 

I’m not scared like I was last night. I’m not even shaking anymore. It’s become blaringly obvious that something is unbelievably wrong, and I should be panicking but….. I don’t know… I’m just not. I’m certainly not happy, but I suppose it is what it currently is, and what it currently is has just made itself known. 

Grrrrrrr.

Once again, I’m starving. 

No food. At least that part is just like home.

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So, you’re technically caught up. 

Truthfully, I’m not exactly sure how long it’s been since I’d realized I was no longer, um, here, I guess. In a different here. I’ve stopped looking at my phone, even to check the time. I want to conserve the battery if the lights go out again. I’m absolutely sure they will. 

Anyway, as harrowing as it was to come to this, I figured it was a good idea to start keeping track, so let’s pretend I just got here. I found a little notepad and pen on a desk along the way. I don’t know, I guess it’s a coping mechanism, but it’s kind of fun to think about leaving a manuscript regarding my misadventures. Is that stupid? I’m not having fun, but I don’t know, I’m here. Why not? What else am I going to do?

It’s been awhile since I’ve written like this and, as I’m sure you may have gathered, I’m not exactly the reincarnation of Mark Twain. Yeah yeah, suspend your disbelief. Regardless of my current ability, I think it would be nice to try, so let’s test this thing out. Ahem…

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And yes, I just wrote the word “ahem”.

That’s like your warning sign to bail out now if you want.

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Cody Camargo: One day in. 

New objective: Find some food, dammit.

It’s still… kind of an IKEA. What are my chances of finding a restaurant? I’m being a little hopeful, but I think the chances are pretty good. Hopefully that’s not copium. 

So, I’m currently back to walking.

My spirit has actually brightened a fair deal with the concept of this journal. It’s pretty exciting to document my journey of suffering.

However, it’s obvious that there isn’t exactly a whole lot to document.

I’m walking, I’m walking, still walking. Damn, that’s a nice marble splash. Back to walking. Walking, walking. OH WOW, WHAT A NICE BEDSIDE TABLE! Back to walking.

I had woken up in the same bed, but the bedside table box was gone. Not that I’m complaining about not having to carry that nightmare anymore, I just swore I had put it next to the bed before collapsing. Then again, I honestly don’t remember. I was practically a dead man walking.

Anyway, I’m back to a live man walking now.

Just, a lot of walking. 

I’ll update you with anything that deviates from that routine. I mean, besides from the nice furniture. Unless you want to be updated on that?

Okay, the journal isn’t THAT fun. If you’re interested in the furniture you can go to a fucking IKEA on your own time.

Not that I would personally recommend it at the moment.

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Holy guac, dude. Sal-goddamn-vation. 

IKEA Restaurant & Cafe.

I’m gonna be honest, I thought I was just gonna try and pretend I wasn’t starving to death for as long as I could before starving to death. Is this place really stocked though? There’s no way, who would be keeping it up? There’s nobody here, same as everywhere else in-

Wow, well nevermind. I can smell it. That is a heavenly smell….. I guess.

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This is so weird. I’m just casually perusing the menu options of what to eat inside of the captivity of my infinite 8-jail-cell. 

(How do I cosmically pat myself on the back for that sentence? I fist-pumped after writing it. Maybe I’m having the tiniest bit of fun.)

I’m gonna be honest, half of these Swedish words mean nothing to me. Well, all of these Swedish words mean nothing to me, but some of the English ones also mean nothing to me. I’m not exactly a connoisseur, and there’s some weird shit on this menu. I had really expected IKEA to be a culturally appropriated bait at Swedish culture but, Jesus. 

Sjörapport? I think it’s salmon? The picture looks like salmon. I like salmon! It doesn’t look like they have chicken fingers here. Maybe they discontinued them after an offended chef reported seeing a man only take one bite of the four that he ordered.

The kids menu is just smaller portions of whatever is on the menu.

I’m not feeling extremely picky. 

I grab a plate and a tray. I began to walk towards the queue before hesitating at my stupidity. There wasn’t exactly anyone on the line to serve me. I looked around as if someone was going to yell at me for walking behind the counter, then began removing the covers and helping myself. 

A lot of it doesn’t look very appetizing, despite how hungry I am. I found the Sjörawhateverthehell, meatballs, and what looks like some pita bread. Oh holy fire, French fries? SCRAMBLED EGGS?! Finally, mercy.

I found a piece of chocolate cake, and sat down happily at a table with a fork and knife, ready to be more adventurous than my previous outing. 

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Um, it wasn’t the best.

I’m not trying to insult any IKEA’n cuisine (I- Kee -en? Surely it would be weird if it was I- Keeya -en.), but I almost feel like the food absorbed and eradicated the piles of salt and pepper that I showered onto them. It was impossibly bland. The salmon was pretty good. The meatballs would’ve been, although they were soaked in a sauce that almost rivaled my hunger with the option of throwing up. I tried to shake all of it off before taking each bite. It soaked into the French fries and eggs. I’ve never once complained to someone in the service industry, but if that chef came up to me again, I would…… probably still say it was delicious in fear of confrontation, but I wouldn’t be happy about it. 

However, realizing that I was currently the sole customer of this establishment, I decided to give up on this meal and get up to get another one. 

I filled up a plate with nothing but green beans and peas. They were dry and unseasoned, even after putting an entire shaker of S & P over the plate. The taste was passable though, and not immediately poisonous. I hadn’t thought about that paranoid possibility until after I had already eaten an uncomfortable amount. Welp, when in shit creek… 

I ate my piece of almost raw cake and downed three entire bottles of water out of the soda fridge. I felt good…. well, I felt a lot better anyway. A new hope of everything truly being okay shined upon me.

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Well, what exactly do I do now? 

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New objective: Figure out what to do now.

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I went and got a somewhat large pillow case and removed the pillow. I returned to the cafe and emptied the contents of the drink fridge into it. I slung it over my shoulder and went back to my favorite activity. I didn’t know what I was looking for, obviously, besides an end to this fucking store, but I had some newly bestowed energy, and nothing else to do.

So, back to walking.

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Okay, pretty cool development. Ya know, cool for someone who’s reality is collapsing. I caved and checked my phone for a second, and it made me think. The lights are on, that food was hot, and the drinks were cold. No matter what the hell is going on, there’s some kind of electricity in this place.

So yeah, maybe if I found a charger and an outlet I could charge my phone, but also…

I found a small clock. Like a small battery powered analog one that you would put on a mantle. Why you would ever buy this instead of a wall clock or alarm clock is beyond me, but that’s besides the point. The revelation, is that these clocks are all synced. Every single one I’ve passed by. Like not only are they synced with each other, they’re synced with my phone. Might not sound like much, but that’s a pretty trustworthy piece of comfort I feel I just gained. 

So I really don’t have to look at my phone anymore. You know, unless I want to check if I have service.

I don’t have service.

Anyway, I’ve started carrying that small clock around. I feel like an adventurer. A super shitty adventure for a super shitty adventurer. Well, I guess you’re along for the ride with me there. I’ll keep in touch as anything happens but, as I said, really nothing is happening. 

That’s just about as sad as it sounds.

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Well, I just discovered that there very much is bathroom’s in this place. With running water AND flushing toilets. I’m not mad at myself for my decision earlier, since I absolutely would not have been able to hold it from then until now, but I do feel at least a little stupid. That feeling of stupidity is well over shadowed by this gift though. 

I didn’t think I smelled too bad, and, obviously, no one is here to smell if I did, but I washed around my neck, armpits and chest for good measure. I took a for-the-road piss and continued on my way. I guess I could be okay for awhile. 

Just until help arrives.

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Do I even wanna think about what I just said? 

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I just got very angry out of nowhere. Is this a joke? It has to be right? I’ve let go of denial, I really have, but bottom line, someone or something has had to have done this to me. Trapped me here, wherever the fuck here is. I’m not dumb, I realize that this is some shit attempt at karma. An eternal isolation in uncanny valley, until I find a good way to kill myself or go insane.

Is that really what my ultimatum is? Or at least, what they want it to appear as?

Well, I’m not insane yet, and I don’t feel like trying to see how easy suicide is right now, so I tested something out.

“YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?! YOU THINK I’M GONNA GET ON MY KNEES AND BEG TO GO HOME?! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?! YOU WANT TO SEE ME BEG?! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I’LL STAY HERE UNTIL I’M GERIATRIC! THIS ISN’T GONNA BE SOMETHING YOU CAN SEND TO TOSH.O. I WILL MAKE THIS AS BORING FOR YOU AS I POSSIBLY CAN! YOU BETTER GET COMFORTABLE, ASSHOLES!”

I didn’t know who exactly I thought I was yelling to, just someone. Following that logic though, I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of screaming earlier.

“HELLO?! CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?! ANYONE! I’M TRAPPED HERE! HELLO?!”

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Complete and utter silence. 

Welp, back to walking.

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Gotta piss again. I’m getting kind of unlucky with my furniture layout RNG. I can’t find a bathroom, yeah, but I can’t even find a toilet like I could before. I’m sure I could find one eventually, but I really, REALLY have to piss. I don’t know if I can wait for how long that’s possibly gonna take.

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Eugh, if I am still somehow in a store, I’m genuinely sorry to whoever has to clean this up. I didn’t want to just do it on the floor and then have to clean it up with something, so I cut out the middle man. I just peed directly onto a bedspread large enough that it wouldn’t leak out and end up on my shoes. I feel dirty. Just simply from that act of technical public indecency. 

Luckily I’m stranded, because it certainly would not help my image. 

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Jesus, you know what I just thought of? 

I know I shouldn’t really be bringing this up to you, but what if I have to… shit… soon? When’s the last time I did that? I feel like it’s been awhile. I can’t do that without an actual toilet. No, without an actual BATHROOM. I’ve been, Uh, shy with that all my life. I always needed a very safe and sterile environment, and I have never ONCE had to do it in any place that isn’t a toilet. 

That is to say, if I can’t find a real bathroom in that time, I don’t know if I can even bring myself to do that in a toilet that doesn’t have water. Yeah, it would smell horrible, but it’s a concern of self respect more than anything. Jesus Christ, I need some self respect right now. 

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Drinking some water, pacing in small circles, coping with the loss of my most sacred creature comfort, and contemplating what piece of furniture is the second best option for taking a shit in after a toilet.

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I’m letting it be known right now. This is me giving up. I could hold it, I could deal with some constipation if I had to. I don’t have to do this. If I do, it is a forward declaration that in some way shape or form, I’m letting this situation win over me. 

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Fuck it, maybe that’s their last straw to cut the cameras? Or at least bring them out into my face to laugh at me. I SHOULD do it. 

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Well, there is now a shit drawer in IKEA. Luckily, there’s plenty of bed cloths to use as non-abrasive toilet paper. Unluckily, no one has come out to laugh at me.

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Wow, this sucks.

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The lights just went out again. 9 PM on the dot. Pretty strict curfew.

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I had to walk in the dark for a little to find a bed, but it was much easier when I wasn’t as absolutely terrified, and blind with dizziness.

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Alright, I guess this is life now. Wake up, walk, sleep.

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I’ll be honest. I don’t know how long I can live like that.

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Am I even alive right now?

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Cody Camargo: Two days in.

Up again bright and early. Well, up again, and it’s bright. My clock says it’s 12:42 PM. I guess some things never change. I had wallowed in my hopelessness for probably around five hours last night. If anything is good about this, it’s gotten my mind off of my previous hopelessness. I didn’t think about it at all in that giant open space of time. I’d be proud of myself if I didn’t know I was fucked.

All I can do today is lay in bed. I don’t feel very motivated anymore. I’ve started thinking about both hop 

hopelessen

hopelessnesses? Plural of hopelessness?

Sorry for that word. I’m sure it’s spelled wrong if it even is a word. I’m used to autocorrect.

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Do I even want to get out of here? I felt like I had a responsibility to. I didn’t want Chandler and Toby to think I’d run away from home. I didn’t want Chandler to think I was a coward. 

But…… was I?…… I had so many chances to just go back. Just tell them. Just tell him…. Just tell him how I felt, and instead, I treated them like they wouldn’t understand. There’s no question on whether I deserve my current position, but I just wonder what he’s thinking right now.

Cody ran away.

Cody’s such a child.

Cody is always like this.

Cody never takes responsibility.

Honestly, this isn’t even a fucking surprise.

Crazy how fast you can disappear from yourself. 

I shot out of the bed. I sprinted towards a box set of a metal computer table and began tearing it open. I ripped out the heavy metal support beam, and began smashing it into every piece of furniture I could, destroying everything. 

Destroying isn’t a good word, leveling is better. 

I breathe through my teeth as my rage brings the pole down again and again and again. The familiar crackle of wood, the shattering of glass, the crushing of plastic, the crumpling of porcelain. My arms burn as I enter minute ten of plunging my anger into anything big enough to justify it. Finally, I turn around to the bedside table beside my last night’s resting place. 

My vision goes blood red as I stand over it and proceed to lose myself in the cloudy metronome of its destruction.

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Panting. I don’t feel relieved. I feel like I’ve reached a new low……. a feeling approaches that I haven’t felt in a long time. 

As I sit there on that bed, in the middle of a warzone created inside this infinite hell, I finally release myself.

I start to cry.

I cry for twenty minutes straight, painting my face with snot and tears, my shirt practically soaked in them as well. 

Heaving, shaking. 

My throat is so sore I can barely breathe. 

I feel so incredibly pathetic, yet it’s simultaneously the best feeling I’ve felt in over a decade. I sit there in my mess of fluid exhaustion. Now I feel a little bit better. But, I honestly don’t know if I can go back to walking.

What’s the point?

I feel like I just want to sit here. Just…

Just sit here and wait for the end.

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What the fuck was that noise? 

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“Hello?”

No answer.

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I’m paralyzed again. I destroyed a lot of furniture, some of it could still be crumpling.

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No, it’s too far away, that can’t be from what I did.

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It’s constant. Heavy.

I’m standing up.

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What the hell, it just stopped. As soon as I stood. I sat back down to see if it was coming from closer to the floor or something. It’s just gone. 

I can’t hear it at all anymore, but I know what direction it was coming from.

I start walking.

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Hang on.

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I grab the pole again. I don’t know why, but I just feel like I should keep it near me.

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Nothing. Just more nothing. I must finally be going insane. While I’d hoped I would’ve lasted longer, some part of that thought calms me down a little. That it’s just my incredibly sensitive primate brain going haywire.

Well, since I’m already up, I guess I can just keep-

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You’re joking.

There it is again.

It’s closer, but it’s still a distance away in the same direction.

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It stopped. I felt like I got pretty close to it before it did. Yeah, it’s constant in its timing, but whatever it is, it doesn’t sound natural. It sounds forceful. And…. wet……..

Why the fuck is it wet?

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I just walked by a bookshelf with a ladder on it. I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of that before.

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Wow, it’s honestly kind of beautiful, despite being a flat earthers paradise.

It’s like looking over a giant valley, but instead of grass, it’s a colorful array of infinite furniture stretching to and inconceivably far past the horizon. Of course it’s a massive let down that I am now inarguably trapped in here but, wow dude. I wish you could see it. It’s breathtaking.

Oh wait, I forgot that I have my phone. 

I know the camera doesn’t do much justice to the eye, but I can at least try to get a picture of-

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No, I saw it. I absolutely know I saw it. That’s not insanity at work, no chance in the fucking world. I saw it.

Someone is walking over there. 

“HEY! HEY! OVER HERE! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

I could barely see their figure, but I could see their movements. They seemed to not even react to the sound of my voice. They were moving, walking, but, something seemed off about it.

I was about to call out again, louder, but hesitated. I wasn’t sure why, but a wave of uncertainty just seemed to hit me out of nowhere.

That feeling was getting pretty fucking old.

I climbed down quickly from the bookshelf, almost breaking my neck, and cautiously moved my way around. I walked over slowly to where I thought I had seen it. Gone of course, not really surprising. No more sound, back to complete silence. I walked around the area for about ten minutes trying to see if I could find them.

No trace.

I can’t exactly tell you why, but I felt like I wasn’t too sad about that.

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I kept walking in that direction for a while. This new development has sparked a new energy inside of me. It’s certainly not one as jovial as the notebook did. This one feels more, I don’t know, urgent.

Urgent isn’t a good word, stressful is better.

The idea that I truly am inside some kind of infinite prison, but I might not be alone. I should be ecstatic about that, shouldn’t I? Instead, it was a thought that was teetering me between immense excitement and immense fear. I didn’t want to think about how bad that could possibly be in oppose to how I had previously begged for it.

I wasn’t giving up on being saved or anything but……. something about being found right now…… didn’t feel right.

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I found another Cafe. I guess it’s also kind of a luck thing on how often I’ll see one. Hopefully I’ll never have to go a million miles between them, but if this place is randomly generated, who knows.

I stopped for some tasteless salad that was more water than lettuce, and some more undercooked chocolate cake, then filled the rest of the pillowcase back with more water and soda. 

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The silence was getting to be a little bit much, bar the plastic squeak of the bottles bouncing as I walked. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed it before. It’s so annoyingly quiet. I mean, I had noticed the silence previously, but I hadn’t taken note of how powerfully devoid of any shrapnel of noise it really is. There’s not even a shred of ambience hanging in the air. There’s just as much a constant absence of sound as there was an absence of light in my first close. 

I began humming through The Moon & Antarctica . It would’ve felt better to just be singing it, but I didn’t feel as free to do what I wanted anymore.

I don’t know, ever since seeing that person……

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I just can’t get over this constant feeling that I’m being watched.

God I know that sounds so cliched but, it’s a pretty horrible feeling. Remember I mentioned liminal spaces?

Well, even as it has been made into more of a joke than a horror trope, there’s a valid backdrop of dread to them.

A backdrop of primal fear.

The idea that at some point, the horror of the situation is no longer that you’re alone…

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The horror is the possibility that you are not. 

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I found a bed that looks really comfortable. I look around and feel like it’s a nice place to settle down for the day. It’s 8:17 PM, and I don’t want to find myself getting up at 2 PM tomorrow, so I want to fall asleep as early as I can tonight. I think if I tire myself out right now, it might help me pass out. 

Carrying that bedside table made it abundantly clear that I was out of shape, so I tried to go through my old normal routine. 

New objective: Get this bitch jumpin’.

I didn’t have any equipment, so it was a lot easier than it usually is, simply because all I could do was body-weight.

Um, well, it should’ve been a lot easier than it usually is.

I’m sure there were plenty of recent factors aiding to my inability to match up to myself, but I felt like an absolute old man. Tire myself out I certainly did. I was utterly winded just attempting to do half of what I was previously capable of. Kanye would be disappointed.

The dopamine boost of exercise was more than evading me, but I was definitely exhausted. I wiped my sweat off with a window curtain, and climbed into the comfortable bed.

The lights went out as I laid there, waiting for sleep.

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I didn’t mean to start thinking that way, but…

Being single must of my life, I had used sexual fantasizing to fall asleep most times I was struggling to. I hadn’t really, you know, released that urge in a while since…. well, for a multitude of reasons, and I was definitely more than a little “frustrated” in my current setting. Once I started, of course I wasn’t able to stop.

I finished behind a bookshelf and walked back to bed, marinating in self disgust. It was the same self disgust that usually came with the activity, but this one felt a lot worse. I probably should’ve guessed that a negative emotion like that would just have been amplified here.

The good news, is that I’m definitely tired.

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God, please don’t let me dream in here.

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Cody Camargo: Three days in.

Woke up at 11:52 AM. It’s a step in the right direction.

Before my, self enjoyment, I had considered praying last night. 

I started thinking about God as I was falling asleep, but…… I don’t know. It felt wrong to try and do it just because of where I was at the time.

I’d rather pray that I never experience a time where it does feel right. 

Anyway, good morning.

Let’s get going.

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Nothing too exciting to report right now. 

Quite honestly hoping it stays that way.

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Isn’t this dumb? 

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Fuck man. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I had to snap out of staring in a mirror just now.

It wasn’t about my reflection. It was about the glass.

I was thinking about it. I hadn’t even realized I was because…. in my head, it just made so much sense. 

Just break it, get a shard of glass and….

Oh God. Oh my fucking God. It wasn’t even a second thought. If I was any less focused, I would’ve done it. 

If I had seen the same mirror tomorrow, I easily would’ve gotten as far as smashing it.

Sure, right now, the smash of the glass might’ve woken me up, but how many days can I go in here until I don’t wake up anymore?

Until my subconscious brain takes over and I just-

Fuck dude, holy fucking shit. I’m so fucking scared. I don’t have the stamina for the kind of denial that my mind wants to keep supplying itself.

I’m absolutely terrified. I just…… I think…..

“I’M SORRY! OKAY!? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO FUCKING HEAR?! OF COURSE I’M FUCKING SORRY! I’M SICK! I’M A SICK LITTLE WORTHLESS IDIOT AND I MADE A MISTAKE! I DON’T DESERVE TO BE FREE, YOU DON’T THINK THAT’S HOW I FEEL?! THIS IS RIDICULOUS! I’M SORRY, GOD IN HEAVEN I’M FUCKING SORRY! PLEASE SOMEBODY SAY SOMETHING TO ME!”

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“DO YOU WANT ME TO DO IT MYSELF?! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO?! IS THAT JUSTICE?!”

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“I DON’T WANT TO! I’M SCARED TO DIE! OF COURSE I’M SCARED TO DIE, I’M SCARED OF FUCKING EVERYTHING! I JUST WANT TO GO HOME! I DON’T CARE WHAT THAT EVEN MEANS! JUST….. FUCK FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE HELP ME, HANNAH! I’M SORRY! I’M SO FUCKING SORRY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! I’LL DO ANYTHING I CAN TO MAKE IT BETTER! IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY, I’LL CUT OFF BOTH OF MY FUCKING LEGS ONE GODDAMN CENTIMETER AT A TIME! I’D RATHER LOSE THEM BOTH THAN EVER HAVE TO WALK ANOTHER FUCKING STEP IN THIS HELLHOLE! PLEASE ANSWER ME!”

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Fucking cunt. I didn’t mean it anyway.

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It’s obvious to me that I’ve slipped into depression. 

Also obvious that there’s no acceptance following after it, just more depression.

I just want to sleep.

I just want to sleep for a long time.

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It’s 4:15 PM. I’m lying down. Hopefully I fall asleep before having to wait until 9. 

If not, I’m fine with just wallowing.

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I don’t know if I died and went to Hell. Personally, I don’t really think so. This doesn’t feel like Hell. Not yet at least.

It’s terrible, yeah. It’s really awful, but this bed, this soft mattress, this heavy blanket, this pillow in my arms. 

I’m still able to feel that empty warmth. 

I don’t think this is the type of warmth that they tell you about in the Bible.

It’s at least a somewhat comforting warmth. It probably only gets worse from here. Despite that, I just don’t see this being it. Maybe everyone has their own personal Hell but…….

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The lights just went out. I’m barely conscious. 

I need a good night’s sleep on a reasonable schedule. I need a level head.

Things are bad. I know they are, but I have to figure this out. 

What else am I gonna do, sit and wait to die? Sounds like something Cody Camargo would do. 

Well, as far as I’m concerned, that asshole is dead. Not sure how he died, but I’m someone else now. 

I’ll figure this out. I have to. It’s the only option. Tomorrow will be the first day. 

I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything.

Somehow. 

For now, I just need to sleep. Everything will be fine tomorrow morning.

Everything will be fine.

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Did I have a nightmare? I don’t remember. Why am I awake? I just shot up.

That shit does not happen. I’ve always slept like a rock. Even here.

Honestly, especially here.

What time is it?

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My phone says 2:34 AM. The lights are still off.

I guess I’ll just try to go back to………..

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No, I don’t feel tired anymore. I feel….. jittery. 

I feel nervous. Really fucking nervous.

I feel like I might throw up.

Maybe I got a stomach bug from that cafe food. I guess it was poisonous.

No, that’s not it. I don’t actually feel like throwing up. It’s just that my stomach is in terrible knots.

I just feel unsettled with this awful sudden punch of anxiety.

Anxiety isn’t a good word, dread is-

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God, if you can hear me, I want you to recognize the absence of any uncertainty in me. I completely release my putrid soul as my only offering of peace. Please have mercy on me. 

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It’s that sound.

Heavy, wet, pounding, constant, but there’s three things that are different than before. 

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One: It’s occurring much faster.

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Two: It’s occurring from multiple locations.

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Three: Every single one, is barreling directly towards me.

A force beyond my nature of comprehension jolts through me as I shoot out of the bed. Whatever direction didn’t seem to be a direct source of that sound is where I found myself sprinting. I was completely blind in the darkness. I thanked more than God that I hadn’t dropped my phone. I wish I had grabbed the pole, but honestly, I was not going to try and use that thing. I flipped on my flashlight to illuminate the eerie halls as I ran. I could still hear the sounds, as they had all culminated into sharing the same location.

Right behind me.

In that moment, I proceeded to make one of the biggest mistakes of my life, and that was a hard list to make.

I turned around. 

Okay, now I wanted to throw up.

It was overwhelmingly horrible. I genuinely almost stopped running, simply because I figured there was no way I wasn’t dreaming. Their figures were tall. At least 7 FT towering over me at my 5’9 stature. Dashing. Skinny, slender arms and legs moving in such a grotesque and inhuman way despite their mostly human resemblance. But they were not human. Nowhere near it. Their skin was gray. A gray that seemed somehow darker than black. So absent of color that it seemed to almost absorb the light of my flashlight as it hit them. They wore the same IKEA tops as the real world employees. No way this was the real world anymore. Let me not beat around the bush, these things had no face. When I say no face, I mean no features. No eyes, no nose, no mouth, no ears, certainly no hair, no fucking anything dude. They were like a morph suit, but even in a morph suit you can make out the features being covered up by the fabric. No, they were almost like, twisted mannequins, and the way that they ran. The way that they ran after me. Holy shit, I’m actually a little glad that I saw it. That image made me run faster than I’ve ever run in my life.

Well, even so, I’m not at all glad that I saw it. Oh the things I would do to get that image out of my memory.

Their movements seemed a little drunk, despite how fast they were. I turned my head and flashlight forward again. They weren’t getting any further away. I was barely outrunning them. If I stopped for even a second, I would be contested.

So, I kept running. I guess that’s an interesting development in a journal full of walking.

My back was tingling from the phantom sensation of them reaching out and grabbing me by the shirt. It became very clear to me that I couldn’t do this forever. I was already sweating bullets and breathing daggers. Again, I was badly out of shape. Every breath felt like I had just been punched in the throat through my open mouth. I was not running on my own command. Pure adrenaline was an understatement. I barely even felt connected to the body I was currently running with.

I was just about to lose that adrenaline, when things got so much worse.

“Sir! We’re closed!”

I almost pissed myself. 

The voice was so calm, so nonchalant, yet it boomed with such an otherworldly aura. 

And it just sounded, you guessed it, wrong. It was a calm human voice for sure, but it was disjointed, awkward even in its calmness. It’s as if someone had made a shitty text to speech bot with the voice of God as a template, and shoved it into one of those things. But like-

Oh my God, I didn’t even realize. HOW IS SOMETHING WITH NO FUCKING MOUTH SPEAKING TO ME?!

“Sir, the store is closed!”

I could hear the sound of wet footsteps increasing, but it wasn’t the speed that was increasing. No, it was the quantity of feet. I didn’t need to turn around to see if I was correct. The growing crowd of voices confirmed that a mob was slowly forming behind me.

“Sir, we’re actually closed at the moment.” 

“Sir, our stores close at 9 PM.” 

“Sir. Please make your way to the exit.”

“HOW ABOUT YOU SHOW ME WHERE IN THE EVER HOLY FUCK IT IS AND I WOULD BE HAPPY TO!”

They weren’t much for conversation, they continued their bland script of requests for my exit. My exit from this plane of existence.

Is it possible to avoid that? I can’t run for another five and a half hours. Even if I could, would they even stop as soon as the lights turned on? Would daylight save me? 

Could anything save me? 

“God, did you hear me earlier?! I really need you right now!”

I was pandering. I felt as if this place blocked a cell signal just as well as it did my prayers, but if God’s antenna really was able to hear me right now, I’m sure he’d be rolling his eyes. 

“I know, I know. Trust me I know, man. Just give me one more chance. I know it’s so stupid to even say that out loud, but I swear I can fix it. I can fix it all. I just-“

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I kept running, but I turned the flashlight off.

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If anything was a hallucination, this had to be. 

On the distant horizon, I could see it.

Light. Warm orange light.

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I felt like I started running twice as fast. It was far, but it was there. It was hope. It was a possibility.

It was the disappearance of my completely certain death, but I had to make it there.

I was in pain. My legs hurt. My saliva was burning. My throat felt like it was on fire. If my throat was on fire, I can’t even describe what was happening to my lungs, but every step that I took made that light a little brighter. As the light grew larger, so did my determination to keep running. No matter what I felt.

There was an army behind me, I was sure of it. The collapsing of furniture behind my back was beginning to rival the army of feet. There must have been so many that they were piling over each other and tripping. Can I really outrun something like that?

Don’t make it a question. Don’t make it a game of possibility. You have to outrun it. That’s the only choice. You have to outrun it, because you have to survive.

You have to find a way out of this. You have to find a way out of here. You have to find a way to fix things.

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You have to find a way to live with yourself. 

That starts with not dying. 

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I was beginning to distinguish what the light was coming from. A building? 

A building, inside of an IKEA? Well, this isn’t even an IKEA anymore, it’s basically a world of its own, so I guess a building might make sense. But why would there be a building here? What is it for? Are there people there?

Wow, is that a possibility? I didn’t even consider it. What if I’m not the only one who’s lost? I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. I was trying to stumble across somebody to save me and guide me to the exit, but if I can be trapped in this place, who’s to say others can’t?

The other lost children in the woods. 

I had to bet on that.

“HELLO!? CAN YOU HEAR ME!? I NEED HELP! THESE FUCKING THINGS ARE AFTER ME!”

The building was still a good distance away, but I was getting close. I could make it, I was in immense pain, but not nearly enough to stop now. Not when I was so close. Just a little bit more. 

But, what if it was nothing? More so, what if it was a trap? Was if this was their hive or something? Should I run away from it? Maybe they’ll stay and I can keep running away and lose them.

I can make out the building a lot better now. It’s not really a building. It’s huge, it is, but there’s no roof to it, because the light is coming from the inside. It’s more like an outpost with towering walls. The closer I get they just keep getting taller. I know that sounds obvious but, they’re so high that it’s almost scary, like at least 100 feet. They’re strange composition seems to be spliced together with hundreds of differently textured woods and metals.

How did this get here? 

“SIR.”

Focus, run. 

I could feel that their steps were getting closer, and I could feel my own growing more and more awkward underneath me. I probably looked like one of them right now.

I wasn’t running fast enough, isn’t that fucking crazy? I was running pretty Goddamn fast, and it wasn’t enough. Eventually, they would bridge the gap. Eventually they would get me. And honestly, I didn’t think ‘eventually’ was that far away. If I didn’t make it in about another sixty seconds, I knew they would get to me.

“HELLO?! IS ANYBODY THERE?!”

It was close, but not close enough, I wouldn’t reach it in sixty seconds. Even if I did, I didn’t see a door, a window, a ladder, anything. It was just a fucking wall. Could I even get in? In fact, it went a pretty far way left and right as well. If I did get there and nobody answered me, I couldn’t wait. I would have to keep running in another direction. I think just the brief pause of my attempt to pivot would be the end of me.

I don’t think I’m gonna make it. I don’t know what to do, I’m really scared. I know I’ve said that close to a million times now, but this is different. I can see it. I can see my dead body. My empty eyes in my skull. I don’t even know what these things will do to me but I know it isn’t pretty. 

And it’s here. I can’t run anymore. It’s come for me.

I lose.

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“DUCK THE FUCK DOWN!” I hear a male voice come from above. 

I look up. A boy with windswept hair is looking down at me from the top of the wall, holding something in his hand. I was in shock. He was human. Not one of them. Human. Another living, breathing, fully colored human.

“HEY! ARE YOU DEAF?! DUCK DOWN NOW!”

I snapped to attention, and tried my best to keep running as I lowered my torso down, almost in a Naruto sprint. The boy raised up what looked like a crossbow, with a bolt that seemed to be……. is that thing on fire?

I hear a metal ‘chunk’ and a ‘whoosh’ as three closely aimed arrows shoot simultaneously towards and above me, all with a streak of flames like fireworks. I hear each one make a squelching contact with one of the monsters behind me. I turn around, and see that three of them have been impaled directly in the forehead, falling forwards, as countless others trip over their now seemingly lifeless bodies. There’s now a considerable space between me and the still fast approaching hoard.

God, I will not forget this.

“ALRIGHT, LETS GO, HURRY!” He yells to people unseen as he disappears under the top of the wall. 

I begin hearing a ginormous croak of hinges, followed by the scraping of steel. Looking towards the wall, a giant gate begins opening outwards and to the left. I hadn’t even noticed any outline of it, but it’s bigger than the entrance to the complex back in the real world. As light spills out from inside its opening and across the floor, a group of eight people rush out, him being one them. They all are holding weapons in their hands.

“COME ON, GET IN!” The boy yells at me.

I tried to stop running, but I forgot that I wasn’t in control of my body. I smash directly into him, as we both fall to the floor. I scramble around, looking back, and expecting the hoard to be hurtling towards me. Instead I see what looks like an action movie scene.

The other seven of the group have confidently leaped to smashing their weapons into the head and bodies of the monsters that had chased me down. They all had what looked like fire axes. Well, one super muscular one had a sword. I mean a literal samurai sword. He was beheading them like Michonne, it was ridiculous. Every other one was aiming to directly plunge their axe into the heads. The way they moved to avoid the monsters was incredible. Almost as incredible as the monster's movement was terrifying. The things knew how to use the reach of their limbs, and they really were incredibly fast. Even so, these seven seemed faster. 

There were two of them that seemed to work in a tag team. The boy would go in, cut off a leg in order to disable them, and then the girl would quickly smash the axe into the back of their head. It was like a morose performance. One that got cut short as two hands grabbed me under each armpit.

“Hey, man! Are you even awake right now?! Get up!”

“What… what the hell did you just say to me?”

“Dude, I need you to get up!”

I tried to stand, but I knew I couldn’t. My legs were jelly. My weight fell back into his arms as he grunted.

“Come on, dude. Work with me here.”

I watched helplessly as my body was dragged backwards, almost lifelessly into the opening of the gate, the group of seven disappearing from my view. I was seeing stars. 

The boy turned me over.

“Try getting on your knees.”

I could get on one, the other crumpled as he caught me, stringing my left arm over his shoulder.

“I got you. You’re okay.”

I looked up and tried to get my bearings, but holy shit was it difficult. What looked like thirty people had gathered around us. Different ages, races, obviously genders, all looking at me with surprised faces.

My favorite thing in the world, a crowd of people all staring at me.

A somewhat old man pushed his way to the front of the group.

“Elizabeth?! ELIZABETH?! IS IT ELIZABETH?! OH, DEAD LORD PLEASE!”

He looked around frantically before his face filled with crushing disappointment, then anger. He looked in my direction, eyeballing me with a look of disgust.

“Jesus H. Christ. What kind of sick joke is this?! Did you try and round them up or something, jackass?!”

“Robert, calm down.” The boy holding me spoke calmly.

The man named Robert shifted his gaze of disgust to him.

“You think you have the right to tell me to calm down?! I thought we had a rule of quantity! How many are out there, Elijah?! A HUNDRED?!” 

The veins in his forehead were popping. He had the tone of every sad, angry old man that made me sick.

“I didn’t count them. I’m not sure.” He replied somberly.

“DIDN’T COUNT?! ISN’T THAT YOUR FUCKING JOB!? WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO, GENIUS?! RISK ALL OF OUR LIVES?!”

I was stable enough now to be angry. 

“Watch your mouth, asshole.”

He looked back at me with a face of shock.

“….what did you say to me, you little shit?”

I was going to happily answer, if I didn’t hear the sound of a man’s horrible, blood curdling scream outside the gate. That scream….. that scream did something to me.

I heard another female voice crying. 

“NOOOO!!”

“IT’S TOO LATE JUST COME ON!”

I looked back towards the door, as the group from outside started rushing back in. 

The first four raced in, three immediately rushing over to the giant handles on the gates inside that I hadn’t previously noticed. The other girl moved to standing just around the corner of the gap in the gate.

Two more followed, as I saw the man who was the muscular samurai of the group carrying a crying girl kicking and screaming into the entrance.

“NO NO NO NO NO NO, LET THE FUCK GO OF ME!”

“Goddammit, Jennifer! It’s over!”

As they entered, the other three began grunting, as they pulled the door closed.

Wait, wasn’t there seven others? 

I see a figure moving towards the entrance, quickly. I thought it was the seventh group member, but instead, I see another one of those monsters dashing towards the opening. It tried to wedge itself into the gates gap, but the girl around the corner brought down her axe onto the thing’s neck, as the head rolled directly in front of me. She quickly kicked the limp body out of the opening as the gate finished closing, then jumped up to grab the giant metal door-bar and slam it down into its ginormous clasps the other three had been pulling.

A hurricane of pounding roared on the other side of the wall.

The six sat there, panting, along with me and the boy, apparently named Elijah.

I looked down at the head in front of me.

It was a clean cut. 

There was no blood.

There was no wound. 

It was just more gray.

No nerves, no bones, no meat. Just gray.

Infinite gray. 

I guess I’m not surprised.

Elijah caught his breath.

“What the hell?! Where is Patrick?!”

One of the men who had pulled the gate closed turned to him.

“Are you tryna be funny right now, dude? Where the fuck do you think Patrick is?”

Elijah was silent.

“Where were you?! We were just scattering without the formation!”

“I-I had to drag him inside! His legs wouldn’t work!”

“He ran all the way here! How could his legs not work?! Was he fucking sleepwalking?!”

“Jesus, man-he’s probably in shock, he surely just got here.”

Just got here? What does he mean?

The crying girl, now released, wiped her face, and started walking up to us.

“I don’t care if he just got here. Throw him the fuck back out there.”

She raised her leg, clearly about to swing her foot into my jaw, before the giant man ran up and grabbed her again.

“JEN! STOP IT DAMMIT!”

I turned to Elijah. He looked unbelievably distraught.

“Jen, I….. Oh God, Jen….”

In his arms, she looked up at Elijah.

“It’s not your fault, it’s his. Don’t you want to kill him? Don’t you want to throw him back out there?!”

Elijah hesitated.

“…… no………. It’s not his fault…..”

He turned to me.

“Just relax, you’re safe here. I promise.”

Outside, I could still hear the monotone voices. So many of them, like a discordant chanting crowd. I absolutely felt anything but safe. 

My mind was a tiny little marble spiraling a funnel hole into a deep and horrible pit. A pit full of whatever it is that those horrible voices belonged to. So many voices. So many pounding fists against the wall. They’re coming for me. They recognize me. They recognize what I did. They don’t want me walking, let alone breathing. They want justice. They want me on a fucking jagged stake, burning to a crisp before they tear the seasoned meat off of my bones. They want me. They want my insides. These people in here, they want just the same. Their friend died because of me. I can’t imagine what horrible grotesque death must come about at the hands of those freaks. He suffered it because of me. It’s my fault. Those things didn’t want him, they wanted me. They wanted to rip me apart. He died in the act of saving me from that. My entire world just flipped. Even with that horde of whatever the hell that was chasing after me, it honestly hadn’t yet. I probably knew I was somewhere bad, but I didn’t really have the proof to justify it yet. Those screams were proof. That obviously excruciating misery that had been painted just out of my view was real enough that I didn’t need to see it. I didn’t need to question if I was dreaming, or if I was being pranked, or if I had just simply gone off the deep end.

Everything had just become a new shade of real that made my life about five hours ago feel like a gentle paradise. 

I was about to start losing myself again when-

“How the hell did so many get over here?!”

I hear a stern but somewhat young female voice from somewhere. I look up to its origin.

It came from a girl who…… she…… holy fucking shit…..

She makes eye contact with me.

“Who the fuck is this?!”

Elijah took my hand off of his shoulder as he stood to look at…. Her.

“He was running outside, they were all behind him. He probably just showed up.”

“With that many chasing?! How?! There wouldn’t even be that many if he had lured them up from the pile!” 

I could barely hear them talking with all the noise on the other side of the wall.

“I don’t know, we just heard him screaming, and there they were.”

She looked around for a couple seconds, before her eyes rested on the girl named Jennifer, clearly seeing her distress.

“Jen?”

Jen didn’t answer, and instead, forced herself around to cry into the man’s shoulder.

The…. girl…. looked around for a couple seconds more before all the color drained from her face.

“……. no fucking way….. don’t tell me.”

“I…. I could’ve stopped it. I focused on getting him in rather than fighting them off. It was dumb. It was so fucking-…”

Elijah started choking up. 

The girl who had brought the axe down onto the monsters neck ran over to embrace him. She put his face into her shoulder, as he shook horribly. I looked at the giant crowd of people around me.

I wrestled myself up to my feet. The guy standing by the handles of the gate saw me and immediately seemed to grow angry.

“Hey, asshole! I thought your legs didn’t work.”

I immediately pinned this guy as an over-arrogant prick from the way he talked to Elijah. An old man in the body of a young man. 

Don’t bring that shit to me.

“Fuck you.”

Elijah took his head out of the girls shoulder to look at me nervously.

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay-“

“-He called me an asshole.”

He began walking furiously towards me.

Elijah saw this and immediately jumped to stop him.

“Sean, chill out dude.”

You would be named Sean.

Elijah tried to stand between us, but Sean forcibly pushed him to the ground.

“HEY!”

The attachment girl runs over to Elijah, glaring at Sean.

He ignores her, and continues walking quickly and angrily towards me.

“Hello? Were you paying attention? Patrick is torn to bits, because he went out there completely wholeheartedly to help save you, and now you’re in here with that kind of tone? I didn’t hear a thank you for being saved or anything like that. In my opinion, Jen’s got a great idea. How about we tie you up and throw you to the fucking-“

Right before he reaches me, the godde- … Uh… girl, grabs his wrist, as he looks back at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“…….. We shouldn’t let him stay here-“

“-We just met him, Sean-“

“-So what’s the loss?”

I felt my fist curling.

“It’s not like anyone is gonna grieve about it, right? If anything, I think it’ll be therapeutic to the extended.” He said.

I was grateful for being saved, but right now, “thank you” didn’t feel like the proper response to this guy. 

“How about if I knock you the fuck out and throw your sorry ass out there?” I spat.

His face shot back at me with wide eyes almost popping out of his head. Maybe I was pushing my luck in a place where I should have known my bounds, but I didn’t care.

“Did you actually, un-ironically just say th-“

The girl pulled on his wrist like an owner on a dogs leash.

“Go home. Now. I’m not gonna ask you again.”

Home?

They stare at each other for a couple moments, as my eyes dart between the two. A weird energy seems to pass that I wasn’t invited to understanding. She lets go of his wrist as he looks back at me for a moment with disdain, and then walks away through the gathered crowd.

She closes her eyes and sighs tiredly.

“Roman, take Jen home please. Watch over her until I can.”

“You don’t need to take over, I’ll stay with her as long as I need to.”

“Shut up, Roman.” Jen mumbles into his shoulder.

“Come on, girl.” He turns her forward and walks her cautiously away through the crowd, as my savior, she, nods a silent ‘thanks’ to him.

“She” takes a second to look over at Elijah, and then slowly turns back to me, as I feel myself nervously shove a heavy breath down my throat. 

She stares at me for a couple seconds, silently. I’ve seen that look before. It’s not exactly distaste, but it’s close enough to warrant a silent investigation for anything negative about me that could justify it as such. 

She makes a face a couple seconds later that makes me think she found more than enough. 

“How did you get here?”

I stared back at her. I tried to answer, I really did. Maybe it was the person I was trying to answer, maybe it was the impossible question, but it was most likely the culmination of physical and mental holocaust I had been through in the past ten minutes.

Regardless, I certainly didn’t feel the ground when I hit it.

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(Part four coming soon!)

 

 

 

Hey guys!

Thanks for reading, hope this entry was as exciting for you to read as it is for me. I really like this section of the story where everything is still so unknown. I was so excited to upload this all of today. Not exactly sure how I'm going to space out the release of these, but I think I'll just go by the feeling of when I can't resist the next one anymore.

Anyway, if you're interested in this story for some reason, I made an instagram page for this story, and a bunch of other things that I'm working on that I'll be talking about there soon. It's @_1979_twilight_ if you're interested. My name's Joey by the way, even thought I... think, you can already see that information? Maybe? Well now you saw it twice.

I've been pretty anxious to embarrass myself on the internet for a long time without ever a good reason to take that leap. I don't want to hold back my eagerness to connect with you guys, so I thought that for each of these parts, I'll just talk a little bit about the chapter, as well as one stupid fact about myself, because why not.

Alright then. Fact number one: I also write my own music-UGGGGHGHHHGHGHG I KNOW. Don't worry, I haven't cursed the world with it yet, it's just mine at the moment.

It's hard to talk about the story, as I look at the stuff I write in the assumption that if it isn't speaking for itself, I'm probably not saying it right, and I try to put in all of the mental angles that are bugging me. A nothing left unsaid kind of thing. It's a detrimental quality of mine to say the least, but it doesn't mean I don't have anything to say. Cody Camargo is an interesting quarrel for me. A hurdle I've always struggled with when writing, ever since I was a kid, was trying not to make every main character I write be the same adorkable exhaustion-fest. Cody's character started out in that same horrible purgatory that made me hate him for a long time. I kind of realized at some point that my hate for that kind of personality was what really made me like him as a character, though. I still have fought to make him less insufferable than he began as. Cody really likes the sound of his own voice, but hates the language it speaks. He wants to be really charismatic and quippy, but finds himself quite irritating in that pursuit. There's a cornucopia of reasons for that which you can obviously tell are currently falling into the unknown category, but it's something I like about him.

He's a loser! Not in the underdog kind of way, just a loser! I'll leave the characters up in the air for you as of right now... even Elijah.

What I will talk about, is my point in writing this story at all. I had heard of SCP 3008 enough that I felt like I knew everything about it ages before I even knew that there was a traveller's transcript for it on the SCP wiki page. When I first read it, I just felt like it was one of the most EXCITING ideas for a story I had ever witnessed.

I fantasized about that story all the time for YEARS. Thinking about what it would be like as some grim Netflix series that fleshed out the events. I just loved thinking about the cinematic moments of it instead of focusing on my high school classes. By the time it was even a fragment of an idea to actually try and write (steal) some of it, I already had such a ginormous head-canon that had spinning around constantly in my mind. For the first time I'd ever worked on anything in my life, I wasn't writing with no idea where I was going or why the story was even a story. Writing it immediately became the most fun I'd ever had whilst writing. It also was the most annoyingly frustrating thing I'd ever done to myself. Fun!!!

Anyway, I think that's enough talk for now. Hope to see you next time!

Thank you, guys!