DAY 001

Click.

The dull hum of the office's fluorescent lights was joined by the harmonizing of a lone camcorder whirring to life. The occasional clicks of the camcorder's tape drive provided a gentle, arrhythmic percussion that broke apart the monotony of the otherwise quiet room.

The clerk, tasked with operating this device, peered his right eye into the viewfinder, twisting a wheel on the side with his finger with the intent of making last-minute adjustments to the focus. The subject, a young brunette woman, was stirring impatiently in her seat as if waiting for something.

"This, uh, this thing rolling? That's what they used to say back in the day, right?" She chuckled to herself, in a failed attempt to lighten the mood with humor. "Surprised they're making you use such an antique to record all this. Our taxpayer dollars at work, am I right?" After receiving none of the laughter she had expected, she sighed, her eyes instead wandering aimlessly with boredom amidst the sterile grays and whites of the claustrophobic concrete box she had found herself in.

"It's been retrofitted for 'Near-Zone' operations, ma'am." The clerk, finishing his adjustments, held back a sigh as he recited a long-rehearsed answer in a firm, monotonous tone. "And yes, it's recording right now."

"Ah, god–" the woman's eyes shot open, her train of thought interrupted by the sudden revelation. "Give me a bit more of a warning, next time! If there ever is... a next time." Grumbling something to herself, she waved her hand dismissively. "Just – just edit all of this out, alright?"

Then, after a moment to collect herself, the woman put on a brighter, more energetic expression.

"He~ey everyone, it's me – Stacey, back at it again with my biggest project yet!" Jumping out of her seat, the woman pointed to a set of massive, metal doors off to the side. "So, unless y'all have been living under a rock, you should know about 'The Zone' – y'know, the remains of SoCal after..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes having glanced over to the clerk as if she was asking him to finish her sentence for her.

After getting no response, the woman sighed, clearing her throat. "Well, after whatever big thing happened. Anyway, after what feels like forever, the government's finally letting ya' girl back in! ...After an entire screening process, and other boring uninteresting shit like that, of course. But, I'm dedicated as always!" She spun around on her heels, showing her backpack off to the camera. Though, to say that it's a backpack is laughable at best – it was small enough that it likely only holds snacks, an insulated thermos, and, if she's lucky, a single change of clothes.

Pivoting her heels to face the camera once more, she continued. "Having cut through all the boring red tape and legal garbage, I'm gonna bring the party back to LA – and I'm taking y'all with me on an all-access tour!" She pointed to the camera affixed to her forehead. "Provided this thing works, of course – they're filming this intro for me on a boring fossil of a camera, after all." A shrill, cloying laughter. "But, we'll make it work. We always do~"

Suddenly, her bubbly, energetic demeanor softened, having shifted into something more heartfelt and nervous. "But um, yeah. I'm so thankful for all of y'all for supporting me through all these years. Never really thought I'd get this far, filming videos in my bedroom all these years. I can only hope that this will be the start of a new and exciting chapter for the rest of my life." She shook her head, chuckling apprehensively. "Nah – nah. It will be that. I believe in it. So... Thank you all for believing in me." Her voice wavered, choking up as she made a point to make direct contact with the lens of the camera. "And mom? Dad? Sis? Thank you all, thank you all so much. I couldn't have gotten this far without y'all. L-love y'all."

A moment of silence fell amongst the room, only to be interrupted by the woman, who sniffled and rubbed her eyes dry with her sleeves. Then, not wanting to waste tape, the clerk spoke up, politely, yet firmly.

"Is that everything?"

Having mulled it over for the moment, the woman nodded. "Yeah... yeah that's it. Thanks."

"No need to thank me, ma'am." The clerk turned off the recording. "It's just standard procedure."

After confirming that the recording had finished, the woman stepped forward and scowled at the clerk, pushing the camera into his chest. "God, are you trying to kill my career, here? You barely moved the camera around at all. It was all so... static. So boring." She huffed, having stepped away. "I'd never hire you as my cameraman."

'Where was this coming from...?' wondered the clerk. Was her nervousness an act? Her crying, too? He had figured her energy at the start was feigned, yet he still found herself moved by her speech at the end about her family and friends.

...Influencers are a strange sort, the clerk wondered to themselves. Artificial and hollow, yet presenting their artifice as though it were reality. Are people blind to this farce, or do they just not care?

In any case, the clerk remained quiet, keeping their composure as best they could as they improvised a response as corporately satisfying as possible. "This recording is intended to be sent to your next of kin. I-"

"And what are they gonna do with such a boring film?" Interrupted the woman. "God, it's gonna look so bad, too..." She folded her arms, seemingly lost in thought. "Maybe they can upscale it, or something – Lean into some sentimental bullshit about nostalgia, I don't know." She sighed, having pivoted her body to face the doors once more. "Whatever. I'm good to go, then? Through those doors?"

"If you are done with your recording... then yes."

She groaned. "I already said I'm done. God, are you even listening...? Besides, I'm not gonna record another take if you're just going to be 'Mr. Boring Camerawork' with it."

"Of course." The clerk gave an unassertive nod as they logged the encounter with the woman, making every effort to try and not agitate her any further than he already did. These sorts of things are make and break when it comes to performance evaluation, and as such the clerk found it best to be as passive as possible.

Then, after receiving the all-clear from his supervisor, the clerk made to stand up, before moving to the set of doors and examining their machinations. He was still new to this job, so the exact details of how to operate this door were not yet cemented in his mind.

But, of course, it was a door, and doors usually aren't too hard to figure out.

Turning a key into one of the doors, the clerk then moved to press a button, beginning the slow, drawn out opening of the door. The quickest thing to happen, by comparison, is the sounds; the room's silence suddenly penetrated by the ringing of safety bells and the disharmonious wailing of the klaxons, as well as the rattling of the gears slowly pulling the two doors off to the side. As this happens, as the crack separating the office from the Zone grows bigger and bigger, the clerk notices something... strange. The atmosphere stirs and shifts, as was to be expected from the change in pressure, yet as the dusty stagnant air was overtaken by that of the outside world, it appeared to be something more... inexplicable.

Beyond the door, was simply... nothing. Nothing. Or, more specifically, as though the world beyond the door completely lacked the evidence that anything ever was there. As though you were reading a book, yet the next page you turned to was inexplicably empty. No words, no page number, no header – nothing.

The woman, however, seemed oblivious – and merely flipped off the clerk with one hand, using her other to set up her phone to record herself taking her first steps through the gate into the white, abyssal void.

The clerk found himself speechless, unable to do anything to stop her from crossing the border. It's not as though he cared much for her – far from it; everything she had done up to this point had painted a picture that she was an annoying, self-obsessed airhead. Yet... there was still a basic instinct within the clerk that provoked him to warn her of what she was heading into.

And so, as he failed in that self-imposed task, he simply stared into the void, trying to make any sort of sense of the lack of information being presented to him. Surely this is just a trick of the eyes – like leaving a movie theater and being caught off-guard at how blindingly bright everything was. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yet... as the clerk activated the button to close the doors once more, as the doors automatically began to close, the clerk still found himself confronted with an overwhelming sense of unease. So, he continued to stare into the void, hoping to find some reassurance that he was simply overthinking things. He stared and stared, blinked and stared, blinked and blinked and stared and stared, yet no matter how much he blinked or how long he stared, he could never find his eyes adjusting to the bright light that stood before him.

Because, after all, there was no light, nor even its absence – there was only nothing.

Once the doors finally shut, the clerk found himself with a perverse sense of relief. Sure, the woman might be in danger, but it's not something he knows for certain. The cat has become sealed in an iron box, the unknowable void already becoming a fading memory, easier and easier to compartmentalize as nothing more than a simple hallucination. Whatever is or isn't beyond those walls no longer matters to him. It's not relevant to his job. He wasn't authorized to enter himself – nor would he ever want to, given how incomprehensible this Zone was to him. So, to him, it shouldn't matter. It doesn't matter.

He sighed, returning to his seat as he should've long ago, and took out his camcorder. He wanted to make sure that the lens wasn't smudged or otherwise damaged in the scuffle with the woman, as that would render future recordings unworkable for their intended purpose. So, he began the mundane process of cleaning the lens, using cleaning fluid and a microfiber cloth stashed in the carrying case to ensure everything was in its best condition for when the next applicant arrived to be filmed.

And then, with nothing else left to do to prepare for the next applicant... he waited.