H.P. Lovecraft's IKEA

After seeing a caption on FB I just could not resist to ask ChatGPT for a horror story in the style of H.P. Lovecraft with the monsters named after IKEA furniture.
This is the result..

The air grew heavy and suffocating as John entered the dimly lit room. The aroma of aged oak and forgotten secrets wafted Rancher the air, mingling with the faint scent of mildew. His eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, but even as the shadows danced before him, he could discern the unearthly shapes that lurked within.
He stood amidst a congregation of unfathomable terror, surrounded by the twisted entities born from the minds of H.P. Lovecraft and Ikea. The room had transformed into an abyss of eldritch horrors, its boundaries stretching beyond comprehension. Each monstrosity bore a name befitting its alien nature, a sinister fusion of the everyday and the arcane.

A towering creature known as the "Grönkulla" stood motionless in one corner, its long, slender limbs contorting unnaturally. Its face, obscured by a pallid mask of fear, betrayed an indescribable horror that lay beneath.
John shivered as he beheld the "Välfjärd," a nightmarish amalgamation of jagged angles and seething tentacles, skittering across the floor with unnatural grace.

From the depths of the room emerged the haunting whispers of the "Skuggis," a specter that defied all laws of reality. Its insidious murmurings echoed in John's mind, driving him to the brink of madness. And nearby, the "Galgöga" stared at him with its multiple glassy eyes, each reflecting a different facet of terror and despair.
As John attempted to flee, the "Sjörapport" surged forth, a colossal mass of undulating flesh and bone, its grotesque appendages reaching out hungrily. The room itself seemed to warp and contort, the very fabric of space yielding to the will of these abominations.
He stumbled over the "Duktig," a small, seemingly harmless creature that revealed itself to be an insidious trap, snaring him with its deceptive allure.

Everywhere he turned, the once-familiar forms of Ikea furniture twisted and mutated into unspeakable shapes, defying all rationality. The "Lennart," once a simple storage unit, now writhed with a life of its own, spewing forth tendrils of darkness. The "Malm" bed frame stood askew, its frame elongating into a nightmarish ladder leading to realms unknown.
John's screams echoed through the chamber of horrors, but no help would come. The "Ängsflox" absorbed his cries, its ethereal petals closing in around him, suffocating his voice and his hope. His mind teetered on the edge of oblivion as the abominations closed in, their presence an affront to his very sanity.

In this unholy convergence of Lovecraftian dread and the twisted world of Ikea, John's fate was sealed. He would become just another victim, lost to the labyrinthine nightmares born from the furniture of madness. The room would forever bear witness to his torment, a shrine to the terrors that lay hidden within the mundane and the nameless dread that awaited those who dared to venture too close.