Chapter 116: Micro Civilization in IKEA
Anyway, I went with Sandra and Jerry today to scavenge for food at the nearby stores, which aren't that difficult to navigate once you learn the landmarks of the area.

The sign overhead helped a lot, but there was something else; not far away was a field of giant shelves stacked on top of each other, and all the way to the east (we all assumed it was east - Ikea didn't seem to sell compasses) was some kind of wooden-looking tower that went all the way up to the ceiling, maybe they'd tried to punch through the roof.

The lights were on at night so someone was definitely there, but it seemed like a few days down the road (that's a few miles away) so no one could really confirm. It seemed like I was pretty lucky to have slept out there for a whole week without getting torn to pieces by the staff. That's just me. Lucky lucky lucky.

We found food in the store.

Maybe the staff will restock it during the night, thanks to them. There's a phone on the wall, I'll try it. There's a voice on the other end, but it's all gibberish. Random words jumbled together that make no sense.

Have you ever seen someone with aphasia? It sounds like that. Anyway, no answer. Sandra said that all the calls here are like this.

Oh, asking the diary question again!

I was thinking about something last night. The roofs here are so high and so far away that no one can tell if it's forever. So should this place have weather or something?

I'm sure I've read before that some NASA buildings are so big they have their own weather patterns, clouds and stuff. This place must be bigger than that, but when I think about it, I've noticed that I've never felt any temperature changes here.

I'm going to add this to the amazing list of weird shit.

The staff attacked the Exchange last night. There were about 20 or 30 of them, all calmly and politely asking us to leave, while pounding on the walls with their bare hands. Apparently this happens all the time, so everyone is prepared. Knives from the restaurant, axes made from lawnmower blades, firefighter axes.

One guy named Wasim even managed to get a crossbow. Anyway, there are holes in the wall, which we found earlier, so we can stab them when the staff attacks. I took down a few of them myself. They don't seem to have blood, which is weird, but once you put a hole in them, they will fall down just as easily as normal people.

We had to haul the bodies away in the morning, since the dead would only attract more during the night, and we had to get them out of Exchange. We had two carts that were built to carry the big boxes, so we loaded them up and took them to the loading area. It seemed like people named everything here after the labels above their heads.

The loading area was horrible. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of dead employees piled up in piles. No smell, thankfully. It seemed like the stuff wouldn't rot unless there was blood. My curiosity was piqued as I was unloading, so I looked at one of the employees that had been cut open. There was just skin, or something that looked like skin, that's it. No muscle, bone, or organs.

Are they alive?
They must have had bones when they moved and smashed against the wall, and I'm sure there was more than just skin resistance when the knife went in at night.

Maybe they changed when they died. Just one more weird shit to add to the growing list, I guess.

Something occurred to me one night after the employee attack.

Every time I see this on TV or in a movie, like it's the end of the world or everyone is trapped on an island or something, when groups like ours start to form, people always seem to start fighting each other.

Infighting over food, leadership or something.

But there is nothing of the kind here.

People from other towns come in from time to time, to check things out or occasionally trade when there's a shortage. But it's all cordial. Friendly, even. Maybe it's the intimidation of the staff, or maybe it's the constant restocking of the store that makes it less of a fight.

Maybe people are better when they are not trusted. That's a good idea. I think I'll take it.

Dozens of people showed up at the door in the afternoon, from a town called Trolley.

It seemed that the workers had broken through the wall in the night and torn the town apart. These 12 people were the only survivors out of a hundred or so people.

Of course we let them in. Another point for the human elegance column. Afterwards I asked if anyone knew how many towns there were, and between us and the newcomers we came up with over 20 names. 20 towns full of people, and God knows how many more besides.

The slogan of this place should be "How is this possible". Someone, somewhere must be looking for the thousands of people who must be here.

I've been here for over 2 months. Turns out not much has changed. A few new people showed up, and had the same experience as the rest of us. Came to IKEA happily, and suddenly found myself trapped in Billy's bookcase's faceless house.

The staff comes to attack Exchange Town once or twice a week. We kill them and drag away the bodies, but sometimes they take a few of us first. They killed a guy named Jared a few weeks ago.

It's horrible to be honest. Turns out normal people would bleed here too, even if these employees don't. We tried our best, but we're not doctors.

Jared was a good man. He didn't deserve this. We all did.

I couldn't get it out of my mind for days afterward. None of us really wanted to find a way out, and I didn't even know where we would start.

A quadcopter with a camera flew over Exchange today. I think this means someone is finally looking for us, and help is on the way. But this doesn't seem to be the first time. The same thing happened a few months ago, and everyone is still here.

I don't know if it saw us, but even if it did, it didn't stop. It just kept flying away from our sight.

[Note: Based on the time the diary was recovered, this entry seems to correspond to our first successful test of sending a drone into SCP-3008-1. Video analysis revealed a walled settlement under a sign labeled "Returns and Exchanges". Attempts to locate the settlement again have failed. The origin of other previously sighted drones is unknown.]

Today at dinner I started chatting with people about what they missed from home. Maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but everyone seemed pretty welcoming. A lot of people here have families. Wives and husbands. Kids. Dogs. Franklin also seems to have a pet alpaca, which I'm not sure I bought.

But apparently some people here have some very strange gaps in their knowledge. Three of them have never heard of the International Space Station, two of them seem to think ████████████ is the Prime Minister, and one of them seems to have never heard of the Declaration of Independence. I believe them, too. They seem just as confused as the rest of us.

At first I thought maybe they came in a different year than me, but it seems like they’re not much older than me.

(End of this chapter)