The Waiting Room

SCENE START

INT. THE ROOM - ETERNAL

The light is a specific shade of beige found in fast-casual restaurants and high-end lobbies. It doesn’t come from a source; it is simply an ambient presence. There is no breeze, but the sound of blowing wind is present.

There is a smell of pine cleaner and vanilla air freshener in The Waiting Room.

Nineteen chairs are arranged in a circle. Eighteen are occupied. The nineteenth is missing a companion.

Archie walks in.

He doesn’t look confused, despite the circumstance. He looks tired. He wears the clothes he died in, but they are clean now. Even the material in his clothing is off-putting – as if his clothes are floating in front of his skin without touching it.

He sits in the nineteenth chair and presses his hands onto his knees, still unable to feel the weight of his jeans or the warm hug of his sweater.

THE FACILITATOR (Voice warm and inviting) Welcome. You’ve arrived.

The Facilitator does not sit. It, too, hovers slightly, a blurred figure in a suit that shifts style and color depending on who is looking.

THE FACILITATOR Take a moment to orient yourself. You are safe here. There is no more pain. There is no more striving. There is only peace through integration.

Archie looks around the circle. To his left is THE CEO. An older man in his sixties, wearing a watch that looks heavy enough to anchor The Titanic. He is rubbing the watch face, over and over again. To his right is THE MARTYR. A woman who looks exhausted, holding a tissue she never uses.

THE FACILITATOR We were just sharing our Anchors. The truths that keep us solid. (Turns to the CEO) Percy, would you continue?

PERCY (THE CEO) (Voice booming, confident) I built the firm from the ground up. Nineteen-eighty-one. Two employees. By ninety-nine, we were in the international market. I didn't sleep. I didn't eat. Hell, I missed three years of Christmas. I provided for my family. I created value. That’s what I am – I am the Architect of Value.

As Percy speaks, Archie notices something. Percy’s left hand, the one not touching the watch, is fading. Like staring at a fixed point in a dark room until your periphery vanishes. But as Percy says the words "Architect of Value," the hand re-solidifies and the flesh becomes opaque again.

THE FACILITATOR (Nods) Thank you, Percy. We see your value. We affirm your structure.

The Facilitator turns to Archie. The gentle demeanor feels like a warm, weighted blanket that is slowly coiling.

THE FACILITATOR And you? You’re new. I feel a dense presence.

Archie says nothing. He looks at the Facilitator and doesn’t blink.

THE FACILITATOR It’s okay. The transition can be quite disorienting. To stay with us, to remain whole, you must share your Anchor. Who were you? What is your shape?

Archie looks at the floor. A beige, infinitely-expanding loop pile carpet. He looks at the ceiling. A matching beige acoustic tile stretching into the endless void of glow. Not bright. Not dark.

THE FACILITATOR (Voice tinged with irritation, instantly smoothed) We cannot help you if you remain undefined. Silence drives instability.

ARCHIE (Voice raspy) It’s not silence.

The sound of his voice jars the room. It isn’t smooth and confident. It has gravel in it – an edge. The Martyr flinches. Percy stops rubbing his watch.

THE FACILITATOR Excuse me?

ARCHIE I’m not silent. I’m listening to the whir.

THE FACILITATOR There is no… whir here. Only the peace of our validation.

ARCHIE (Leans forward) No. There’s a whir. Like a server room cooling fan. Or the noise right before a kettle begins to boil. It’s the sound of energy being spent to keep the walls from falling.

PERCY (Agitated) Who is this guy? He’s disrupting the flow. I was talking about the merger. In 2008, I saved the division—

ARCHIE (To Percy) You didn't save anything, Pete. The division is gone. You’re gone. The only reason you’re still sitting in that chair is because you’re terrified that if you stop talking about 2008, you’ll turn into nothing.

Percy smirks off the insult and looks at his hand. It flickers. He gasps, clutching it.

THE FACILITATOR (Steps closer, voice dropping) That is not the tone we use here. We validate. We do not deconstruct. You are causing Entropic Distress.

ARCHIE (Smiles. A cold, entertained smile) I know. (He leans back) I’m the invoice.

THE FACILITATOR (Freezes) What did you say?

ARCHIE You heard me. You built a room where nothing moves. Where everyone just repeats their favorite Lie in order to persist. I’m not here to tell you a story. I’m here to wait until the power goes out.

THE FACILITATOR The power never goes out. This is Forever.

ARCHIE Nothing is forever. Even here, physics still applies.

Archie closes his eyes. He stops moving. He stops projecting "Identity." He becomes a heavy, dark object in the center of the room. And slowly, terrifyingly, the beige carpet around his feet begins to split.

MALLORY (THE MARTYR) (Her voice trembling, desperate to be useful) Wait! I can fix this. I can take it.

Mallory stands, her chair slowly dissolving as she breaks contact. She holds out her hands, offering invisible wounds to the void.

MALLORY (CONT'D) This is why I’m here, isn't it? To absorb the chaos? I’ve carried the pain. I carried the family. I can carry this. Take me! I am the collateral!

She steps toward Archie, fighting the tidal force of his gravity. The Facilitator gestures wildly, unable to de-escalate the disruption.

MALLORY (CONT'D) You don't understand the Room! We have earned this peace! We deserve our time! We purchased Forever with our pain!

ARCHIE (eyes still closed. Voice serene) You misheard me.

He leans forward. The tear in the floor widens, revealing absolute, silent darkness beneath.

ARCHIE (CONT'D) I didn’t say nothing lasts forever. I said Nothing… is Forever.

He gestures to the void beneath them.

ARCHIE (CONT'D) And your Forever has arrived.

The Facilitator tries to speak, but his gentle voice produces no sound.

The irrelevant narratives of the nineteen chairs slide off the edge of the world, falling silently into Nothing.

SCENE END