A young man sitting slumped in his chair is jolted awake by the sound of a service bell ringing.

*Ding!*

His head jerks as his eyes groggily begin to open. As the surrounding light floods in, he shuts them once more with a grimace. The light feels glaring. He reels back, rubbing his eyes for a few moments as they adjust to the bright lighting.

As he begins to open his now-acclimated eyes, the first thing he notices is a small slip of paper he had been unconsciously holding onto. The only thing written on it is a number: 413303. After coming to the conclusion that this number means absolutely nothing to him, he begins to survey the area around himself.

The room he is in can be best described as a large waiting room. The size reminds him of a department store while the sterile white walls and ceiling remind him of a hospital. Thousands of simple grey chairs are segmented throughout the space with about half of them filled at the moment. Despite the amount of people though, the room is almost completely silent save for breathing and the sound of people shifting in their chair. The people that are close enough for him to observe are either asleep or silently looking around with curiosity like himself. At the very front of the room is a single, plain wooden door with a large screen hanging above it. This screen has a number plastered on it: 413300.

As he is observing the screen, the bell that had awoken him rings again.

*Ding!*

As soon as this happens the number changes, moving up sequentially to 413301. A young woman wearing a woven hat and a sundress gets up from a seat not far from the young man and walks towards the door. In her hand she holds a slip of paper which lists a matching number to the one on the wall. She wastes no time in reaching the door and firmly grasps onto the brass knob. As she opens it, a faint and melodic tune begins to play as golden light streams outwards. She doesn't look back as she enters whatever is beyond that threshold, politely closing the door behind her. The music and light promptly disappears as soon as the door is shut.

"Ah," the man thinks to himself, "So you go up and enter when your number is called." The man is content with his newfound understanding of the situation. He shifts his thinking towards a different mystery...

"Who am I?" He ponders this question as he struggles to remember anything of importance about himself. Blurred names of people and places begin to pop into his head before fizzling out. Hazy memories of family, hobbies, and aspirations flit at the edges of his consciousness. His thoughts seem to waft through his mind like light breezes; appearing for a moment before slipping through his fingers. After failing to grasp any solid information, he decides to focus all his efforts on recalling just one memory: His name.

He struggles quietly to himself, painstakingly snatching each letter from the loose winds floating around his head before finally piecing them together into something comprehensible.

"J... Ju... Jude..." With an exhale he releases the tension on his mind, basking in a sense of accomplishment. "I'm Jude," he thinks to himself contentedly. "My name is Jude."

After over-exerting himself to recall his name, Jude felt like he had reached the limit of what he was currently able to figure out from his own memories. He was satisfied with at least remembering his own name, and something inside of him was telling him that whatever answers he was looking for would be waiting for him behind that door. He decided to wait calmly and patiently for his number to be called.

Objectively of course, Jude could not understand why he wasn't currently freaking out. He doesn't know where he is, cannot seem to recall any significant information about himself, and has no idea what is waiting for him behind the door once his number is called. Despite all of these stressful factors, he finds himself simply unable to worry about any of those things. He can't even muster up the desire to try and communicate with the people around him. Instead, the only feeling he had been able strum up is a mild sense of curiosity at his predicament.

Looking around, he notices that no one else is panicking either. The ones that are awake are all sitting silently, sharing the same sedated expression as their eyes scan the room. He surmises that they have all lost the ability to lose their calm as well. It seems the only functions available to those in the room were the ability to look around, think calmly, and grasp tightly to the small slips of paper in their hands.

"Maybe I've been drugged. Oh well, no use worrying about my inability to worry."

The irony of the thought makes him chuckle silently before the bell tolls once more.

*Ding!*

The number changes once again, this time to 413302.

Jude looks down at the paper in his hand. "It seems I'm up next after this person. Good thing I woke up when I did, the number seems to move quite fast."

A burly man that looks to be in his 40's stands up from the far back of the room. He shuffles to the door in his blue track suit and sandals. As he pulls open the door, the previous light and music no longer pour out. It is instead replaced by an inky, shifting blackness and the chilly atmosphere that emanates from within it. Unlike the woman, the middle-aged man hesitates to enter. He even begins to take a step backwards before a long and spindly arm shoots out of the tar-like darkness. Its hand grasps at his jacket, slowly pulling him back towards the door. As the man attempts to dislodge himself from his captor, new arms begin to sprout from the door and grab different parts of him. His arms, his legs, his head. Soon enough, he is cocooned within the series of arms before being forcefully dragged into the murky darkness. The dark void trembles momentarily before the door slams shut on it's own.

Jude swallows audibly. It seems he wasn't the only one troubled by what he just saw as similar sounds arise from around him. Even still, the momentary fear and unease begins to quickly fade as the door closes and the insidious aura it exuded dissipates. His dampened emotional state returns, leaving him once more with only faint curiosity at what he'd just witnessed.

"So that's no ordinary door, huh. I guess what's behind the door changes depending on who opens it."

Jude wished to contemplate more on the ramifications of this discovery, but he was unfortunately interrupted by that familiar sound.

*Ding!*