I yawned as I opened my eyes and stretched, feeling like I had just woken up from a long nap. Looking around, I was pretty sure that I had fallen asleep in some kind of public government office or doctor’s waiting room. Around me were a dozen blue plastic and steel chairs in three rows with various people sitting around me. In front of all of us was a counter and a door to what I assumed was what we were all waiting for, whatever that was.
Actually thinking back, how did I get here? Better question yet, who am I?
Despite the worrying situation I found myself in, I simply could not feel any stress or panic.
So what the hell was going on here. I was somebody, for sure, I’m pretty sure I remember some things.
I’m pretty sure I’m a person who lived on earth, yes I'm fairly certain I lived in a place called … Hawaoo? Hawamy? Hawaii! That's it, Hawaii! and I-I … I can't remember anything more about myself.
Bringing my hands up to my head to rub my temples, I noticed for the first time a small strip of paper clenched tightly in my left hand. Opening the fist I did not realize I was clenching, I took a look at the paper, a simple strip of paper that had a number printed on it.
#20373467104187189031623797
I squinted my eyes at that. Comic Sans? What kind of idiot uses Comic Sans!?
But even more important than that was my hand. Rather than have any kind of skin tone or, … well skin in general really, my arms were just vague outlines of a human body with gray in between the lines.
Looking down at the rest of my body, I was dressed quite simply in a buttoned up red Hawaiian t-shirt with white floral pattern. Tan board shorts and flip flops covered my lower half.
What the hell is this? Am I like a soul or something, oh fuck am I dead. … oh god I’m fucking dead. I can't even remember who I was and I’m dead… Whatever soul bullshitery was going on in the room still prevented me from feeling panic or fear, but it was still a lot to take in.
So where am I, some kind of purgatory afterlife?
A voice that sounded like it came from a speaker system resounded through the room and snapped me out of my contemplation.
“Number 20373467104187189031413252”
Despite the stupidly long number, I instinctively knew that that was not my number without even having to look down and check.
Without a sound, one of the people sitting in front of me stood up and started walking towards the door. Looking around, I began to really start paying attention to the rest of the room for the first time. The man who was called was dressed almost like some kind of viking, with a great horned hat and dressed in furs, except he was too short … A Dwarf!
Examining the room, I realized it was filled with all sorts of strange characters; some kind of Cosmonaut with a broken helmet, a Cowboy in a poncho, some kind of knight in full plate armor with 4 arms. The list of exotic looking characters went on, but I snapped my attention back to the dwarf as he walked up and opened the only door in this room revealing … a normal ordinary hallway behind it. Kind of disappointing really.
Trying to get up, I found that the same kind of calming effect was keeping me from even attempting to get out of my chair or talking to any of the people sitting next to me when I tried to turn to my neighbor.
Giving up on interacting with my neighbors, I turned back to watch the only exit to the room and settled in to wait for my number to be called.
***
I have no idea how much time passed in that waiting room. The figures in the seats around me shifted whenever I blinked or the seat left my field of vision. The wait felt like it took both an eternity and no time at all.
I took the time to really reflect on my self and my situation. Was I male or female when I was alive? What kind of person was I? Did I have any family? How did I die?
Exploring the far recesses of my memory came back with nothing on who I had been other than vague snippets about my life from the other memories I possessed. Despite the surfer-like apparel I was dressed in, I could remember a lot about various comics and media. Was it because I had read/watched a lot in my free time? Questions to ask when my number was called. That is assuming I actually get to talk to someone once my number is called and I’m not just immediately sent straight to hell. I was really hoping I hadn’t done anything bad enough in life to warrant being sent to whatever the equivalent to hell was around here.
Eventually the voice coming from the speaker system called out my number:
“Number 20373467104187189031623797”
Without even having to look back down at my number, I just knew that they had called me. Just like everyone else before me, I finally stood up from my seat without a word and walked to the door.
Closing the door behind me, the hallway seemed to go on forever with doors off into the horizon. I had no idea which door was the right one but my feet carried me forward into the unknown until I reached a door numbered 199. I hesitated as I stopped and grabbed the doorknob, taking a moment to steady myself before entering the room.
The room itself was seemingly a completely normal personal office complete with a motivational cat poster, potted plant, and blocky computer. The only thing seemingly out of place was the person sitting behind the desk. While he was wearing a simple suit, his skin was a tapestry of cosmos with a body that cut off at the neck. Instead, he had an entire swirling galaxy of stars slowly rotating in place where his head should have been.
““Please, come in and take a seat”” he said with a velvety smooth voice that somehow sounded like a thousand different voices all talking at once. He gestured to the simple leather chair in front of his desk and before I could even open my mouth to respond, I blinked. When I opened my eyes I was sitting in the chair in front of him and the door sounded shut behind me.
““Sorry about the wait, but we’re really quite busy”” he said without looking away from the CRT on his desk. ““Would you hand me your ticket number?”” His voice had a strange echo to it, almost like it was traveling down a metal pipe.
My body moved instinctively, handing him the paper slip I forgot I was still gripping in my right hand.
“Hold on for a second, please. What's going on here? Am I dead? Why can’t I remember who I am!? Please, I just need answers!” The words finally spilled out of me like a dam had been broken.
Stolen story; please report.
His galaxy bent into something that reminded me of a business smile as he took the slip from my hand, ““I apologize, we really are quite busy, an intergalactic genocide in Universe #343 is creating a major jam in our systems. My name is .̵̯͓̀.̴̩̓̆͝,̶̥̭͇̽̄̈́;̵̯̂̒̃.̵͚̞̾͊;̶̡̙̓̔͝ͅ'̷̹̂,̷̜͒;̵̨͛'̸̡̩̰͛̈͝.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ,̷̜͒,̵͓̀̑;̷͕̭̤̈́̂̅'̶̹̩̆̀̅.̵͉̝̮̒͋͋.̶͉̫̊̃͌ͅ,̸͓͆̾̆,̶̹̲̓.̵̩̅̄̆;̵̣͑̂'̶̧́̀ͅ.̶͙̳̙̋, but you can call me James. This is the Interdimensional Soul Travel Department, and you are here because after your mortal death your soul has been involved in some kind of interdimensional summoning request. If you’ll just give me a moment to look up your file we can find out why you're here.”” ‘James’ turned back to the CRT and began slowly tapping the keys of his keyboard with just his pointer fingers.
I slumped back in my chair, so I really had bit the bullet. Whatever cosmic bullshit blocked my emotions seemed to be only partially working in this room, a spike of panic driving itself into me. Unwilling to try and process these emotions, I took a look around the office. On the desk, a blocky computer glowed with some kind of neon blue energy and a picture frame rested on the opposite corner. From my seat, no matter how hard I leaned, I couldn’t quite make out what was framed.
I gave up and looked at the only thing on the office’s walls, some kind of motivational cat poster. On it, a cat was staring at a quote in some kind of language I’d never seen before. Then again, I couldn’t remember much
““Well Soul number … 20373467104187189031623797,”” James said, drawing my attention back to him. He looked down at my slip and tapped a few keys on his keyboard, ““it seems that due to an accidental misfiling, your Soul has been taken out of the standard process of reincarnation.””
“A-A misfiling? Are you joking with me?”
““We apologize for this mishap, but once the process has begun it cannot be stopped.””
“Process, what process are you talking about?”
““Your soul was accidentally selected for summoning to what by your standards would be ‘another world’. One of the interns must have mixed you up with Soul number 20373467104187189131623797, and removed you from the standard post death soul scrub-down.””
I rubbed my temples in frustration, too many revelations too fast. “...what soul scrub-down?”
““Just the removal of Memories and Self from a Soul’s life immediately after death. We took you out just after the self was nearly completely removed, leaving just the Memories.””
“Well can I get my Self back?” I demanded.
““Oh no, the effects of the soul scrub are quite irreversible."" James said without even glancing away from the monitor.
“Can you at least tell me who I was?” I asked, feeling increasingly desperate.
““All client information is strictly confidential.””
“But I’m the client!” I yelled in exasperation.
““There are no exceptions to our policies.””
We sat quietly for a few seconds as James continued to slowly type like an old man. I stewed in the silence, hundreds of questions racing through my mind.
Would I ever find out who I was? What would happen to me now? Could I ever go back?
After several minutes of silence only broken by James’ incredibly slow typing, I finally found the resolve to vocalize my concerns. “So what is going to happen to me next, you said that I was accidentally selected for this ‘summoning’ but you also said that it can't be stopped”
““That is what I’m trying to figure out now,”” James said right before his computer made a pinging noise. ““Ah, here we are. Mh, yes. Oh, of course.””
“Well?” I asked anxiously
““It seems like the error was corrected and the proper soul was summoned to that world. Company policy states that we can only send one humanoid per request, so we will have to reincarnate you as some kind of non-humanoid, most likely a non-sapient species.””
“Please tell me you’re joking”
““Our hands are tied in this situation, this is the only solution we have to the issue. We are contractually obligated to finish the transmigration of your soul to World number 90234578623. However the company charter also states only one humanoid can be summoned per request and we have already delivered the proper soul. This is the only realistic solution we are capable of achieving.””
“So there is another, unrealistic solution?”
““We could keep you here for eternity as an amorphous humanoid soul with no ability to move or speak.””
“Let's go with the monster plan, the monster plan sounds good!” I shivered at the thought, a literal eternity of what I endured in the waiting room. No thanks.
““Excellent, now then”” James said and raised his hand with dramatic aplomb and pressed a single key on his keyboard. A full marching band of trumpets began to blare, confetti rained from the ceiling, and next to James’ desk a large spin wheel the size of a shed appeared.
““Allow me to introduce the Wheel! Of! Fabulous! Prizes™!”” James declared happily, and stood from his desk next to the wheel. It was the first emotion other than business casual he had shown.
““This is my favorite part of the job,”” he said, leaning in, one of the suns in his galaxy briefly eclipsing, reminding me of a conspiratorial wink. Though I didn’t know the shape of my face or if I could even show expressions, I tried to give James my best withering glare.
James continued on, seemingly unperturbed by my reaction. ““Normally we use this bad boy to roll for possible boons for summoned individuals, but just for today we can reuse it to roll for the races we could possibly reincarnate you as. Now, Spin! The! Wheel!””
I took a deep calming breath and stared at the wheel. While there were no words on the large spin wheel, I could still make out stylized images of various creatures. There were many of these stylized images dotting the wheel and no matter how many times my eyes circled the wheel, I still saw new ones. Dragons, rabbits with horns, insects, humanoids, worms, birds, the variation in types of creatures seemed massive. Closing my eyes, I grabbed the edge of the wheel and spun.
I tapped my foot in time with the ticking of the wheel as it spun, all my attention devoted to the area on the wheel where a blinking arrow pointed. What would I get? What if I became some kind of gross bug, or a bird, or maybe a fish. Please just let it be humanoid.
Actually, if all of these menacing looking creatures existed on this world, wouldn’t it be stupid dangerous? Never mind humanoid, please let me be something strong enough to live comfortably.
My foot kept tapping, the wheel kept spinning with no loss of momentum. How long was this thing going to spin for anyway? I glanced over to James, who continued to excitedly (I think) watch the wheel spin. Was this guy so desperate for entertainment that watching a wheel spin is considered fun?
A quick glance back to the wheel showed it still hadn’t lost any momentum, and neither had James, who was now pumping his fists in excitement. I sat back down on the leather chair in front of James desk and yawned. Huh, I didn't even know I could yawn, guess this is just that boring.
Almost as if to spite me, the wheel abruptly stopped without bleeding any momentum. James turned to me and began speaking again, however I felt my eyes grow heavy and my consciousness began leaving me.
I was fairly sure he was saying something important, but an all consuming fatigue took over my body. I couldn’t resist closing my eyes and quietly drifting off to sleep.