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Dana Cardinal was a bright young woman. A certain level of intelligence was required to make it through as many things as she had without collapsing from the inside out, or from the outside in. Dana had many of the traits people look for in others: determination, kindness, and a problem-solving personality, among others. However, if you asked her, she would say that she was nothing special. No, she would say that she was just like everyone else: a person, doing their best to help their community.
She, like everyone else, followed the traditions set about by Night Vale. She participated in Bloodstone Rituals, she avoided the Dog Park (that neither humans nor dogs were allowed inside, and honestly you were better off ignoring that it existed in the first place), and she listened to the Night Vale Community Radio broadcast every night.
“An interesting note on Hiram McDaniels,” The radio host, Cecil Palmer, stated, referring to the literal five-headed dragon currently jailed for allegedly stealing the identity of Frank Chen after potentially killing him. “Intern Stacey tells me that she’s been Googling the roguish dragon. Did you know he has a blog? He’s a very smart fellow with some really groundbreaking ideas! Here’s one post from last week: ‘If I were mayor of Night Vale, I would give incentives for small business development and focus on youth physical fitness programs. Human youth are the human future, after all.’ Well, it seems a certain multi-headed fugitive wants to become mayor of Night Vale. You have my vote, Hiram!”
Dana shook her head, smiling. There was no way Mayor Winchell was going to be leaving her job anytime soon, barring any incidents. As a Radio Broadcast major, Dana knew of the violent fates that befell many of the mayors: it came up while going through some of the old broadcasts. It would never directly affect her, though, so she was content to treat them with the same kind interest she treated all other news.
She didn’t think much of the broadcast; not until the next day, when a child with wide, glowing eyes walked up to her while she was hanging out on the edge of campus. Uninvited, he sat down across from her and asked, “What do you think of Hiram McDaniels running for mayor?”
“I don’t know how I feel about having a fugitive for mayor and I would like to know more about his policies before making a decision.” The words forced themselves to manifest, her thoughts twisting into physical form without consent from her voice. “Are you canvassing for him? Mayoral elections aren’t for another three years.”
“No. I just wanted to Know what you thought.” The kid kicked his legs back and forth. “I’m Jon.”
“Oh.” Jon was a recent arrival in Night Vale, and his sudden presence had been announced over the community radio once he’d been noticed. He was an Avatar of an all-Seeing Fear God ‘The Beholding’ and cousin of Carlos the scientist, who came into town not too long before him. “You already Know then, but I’m Dana Cardinal. Why did you want to Know my opinion on politics? Don’t you have more interesting things to do?”
Jon stared at her for a long moment, green eyes Watching her, Seeing everything that made Dana Cardinal the woman she was. He came to a conclusion eventually, but he did not share that conclusion out loud. “...you’re very interesting, Ms. Cardinal.”
The next time Dana met Jon, it was because she had become an intern for the Night Vale Community Radio and, as it turned out, Jon made it a habit to visit the Radio Station. Not for any person, but rather for the cat, Khoshekh, and the kittens that floated in fixed points in the Station’s men’s restroom. He adored the little creatures, and a former intern had even constructed a stool for him- or anyone, really- to use to better pet the cats, in case you couldn’t reach them or wanted to sit down.
She got into the habit of making small talk with him and he always had some weird questions to ask (what kind of person asks “what would you do if lost in an other-dimension desert?” unprompted?) or would just stare at her for long periods of time. Overall, he seemed fine with her presence- especially once she proved to be a friend of Khoshekh (the cat that floated in a fixed point four feet above the floor in the men’s restroom) and Khoshekh’s kittens.
Then, a sandstorm passed through town, bringing forth doppelgangers from an unknown source and filling everyone with bloodlust only satiated by the death of their mirror image. Dana, who had been walking into the Night Vale Community Radio Station just as the storm reached them, fought and killed the other-Dana; or, she was the other-Dana and had killed the original. She wasn’t actually sure.
“You want me to give my Statement?” Dana asked, already resolved to do so- nobody could resist eyes that innocent and numerous- but she wondered, “Why me? Most of Night Vale fought another version of themselves.” Everyone who had not made it inside in time, or who had wanted to stay outside because ‘if we stopped everything for every disaster we would never get anything done’ or simply because they ‘were curious’, had participated in the widespread violence. “And Cecil already mentioned my experience on the radio.”
Cecil had been broadcasting when the sandstorm hit Night Vale, and the disturbance outside his office had been enough to get him to investigate. He had yelled at them- Dana and the other-Dana- to stop fighting, but they hadn’t heard him, their minds muddled with the music of the wind telling them to rip the other apart, to stain the floor with their blood. When she finally came to, standing over the body of her double, he was the first person she saw.
As the initial disturbance had been recorded for all of Night Vale to hear, Cecil made sure to update Night Vale on the gruesome scene he walked in on, with one Dana dead and the other standing victoriously over her. Nobody, not even Dana herself, knew if she felt satisfied or disgusted by her own violent actions.
So why was Jon asking to eat her Fear, above someone else’s?
“I want your Statement,” Jon emphasized, for once sounding more like a child than someone under command of a Fear God. “I want to Know what you felt.”
“...all right.” She smiled at him. “I’ll give my Statement at lunch- but Cecil asked me to check on Khoshekh first. Do you want to come with me?”
(Jon made it to the men’s restroom and was petting the cat before Dana one leg in the Cat Petting Safety Suit™.)
DIRECT MESSAGES: Cecil Palmer & Dana Cardinal
Dana: Cecil, I heard Mayor Winchell’s speech through the wall of the Dog Park. She’s stepping down as Mayor at the end of the year!
Dana: Cecil?
Cecil: Do you think you can be back in time for elections?
Dana: Probably not. The Dog Park Walls are pretty tall and I haven’t been able to find a way out yet
Dana: Wait
Dana: Cecil uses an emoji every other word. Who are you?
Cecil: Jon.
The Sheriff’s Secret Police has changed Cecil’s username to Jon.
The Sheriff’s Secret Police: Reminder: It is law to change the username to your actual name when using somebody else's phone. If you have trouble spelling your name, please shout it out loud so a friendly representative can telepathically criticize your spelling skills.
Dana: Why do you have Cecil’s phone?
Jon: I wanted to learn what you thought about Mayor Winchell’s decision.
Dana: What’s your interest in me and politics? Cecil might know more about it than I do
Jon: He’s doing his broadcast right now and I wanted to know your thoughts.
“Jon, why do you have my phone?”
“I’m texting Dana.” Jon replied, eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to piece together how the mayoral election was supposed to work. He knew the election results were chosen by the Hidden Gorge- that’s how he already knew what the result was going to be, even before Mayor Winchell announced her definitely-willing retirement- but how were people going to support a mayor they didn’t even know was a candidate?
“Oh that’s great!” Cecil beamed. “Could you tell her that we’re happy that she’s okay? I tried texting her, but my thumbs began to burn and blacken and blood began trickling from my nose as I wrote, so I had to stop. Oh- can you ask if we’ll ever see her again? I hope so. She was a good intern…”
DIRECT MESSAGES: Cecil Palmer (or Jonathan Sims) & Dana Cardinal
Cecil changed their username to Jon.
Jon: The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home is starting her mayoral campaign.
Dana: Are people without faces allowed to run for mayor?
Jon: She is.
Dana: That makes the candidates her and Hiram McDaniels, who is literally a five-headed dragon, right?
Jon: Yes.
Jon: If you don’t mind me asking, when are you going to start your campaign?
Dana: I can’t campaign Jon. I’m not even able to go back to Night Vale
Jon: But
Jon: Are you sure?
Dana: I’m going to keep looking for a way out, but I don’t know what I’ll do when I get back
Dana: I might not even be back for the election
Jon: You will be back in Night Vale for the election.
Dana: I appreciate your optimism, but I know even you can’t See the future
Jon: You have to be back by then.
“Listeners, many of you recall our station intern Dana who, while reporting on strange goings-on, was locked in the forbidden Dog Park back in April. I’ve received occasional texts and emails from Dana, but then this morning, well… let’s listen.”
“Cecil, it’s Dana. I’ve found a way out of here. I walked the perimeter of the Dog Park looking for a crack or hole or a weak spot in the obsidian walls. I never found an opening, but- and this is very strange- the walls just keep going. If you stand still, the Dog Park seems to take up a single city block, but I walked one direction for about two weeks, and I could no longer see the monolith where I started, or the people I was with, or even hear the tinfoil rustling of the leaves from the tall, black metal trees that protect us from clouds.
There’s something else: I found a door. An old oak door standing unsupported by any other structure. I didn’t know if it was an exit from the Dog Park or an entrance to something much worse, but I went through it. Now, I am in some old house.
Cecil, I can hear someone moving around upstairs. I need to go. I will try to call you soon. Thank you for everything, and I hope our time and place match again soon. Tell Jon I said hi, unless he has your phone again, in which case, hi, Jon.”
“Oh listeners, I so wish I could have talked to Dana this morning. They were showing Cat Ballou again on TBS, and I just couldn’t break away. I tried to call Dana back, but my phone caught briefly on fire and something sharp cut open my thumb as I selected her number.
Some of what she said in her message concerned me, so I asked Jon, cousin to my boyfriend- and local scientist- Carlos and our local Avatar of the Beholding, if he had any idea on what house Dana claimed to be in. He and Dana are friends, bonding over spending time in the Radio Station with Khoshekh, the cat that floats four feet off the floor of the men’s bathroom in a fixed point. He has even been able to send some messages back to her when nature itself thwarts my attempts. Jon says that, despite Dana’s description, the forbidden Dog Park is not part of the Vast’s domain, and that the lone-standing door that she came across does not belong to the Distortion. Our Fear God count remains stagnant, it seems.
And now, a public service announcement from the Night Value SPCA.”
“Listeners, I just received word from Carlos, lovely Carlos, with his perfect teeth and hair and penchant for sometimes chewing a little more loudly than is preferred. Carlos, who is with other scientists and Jon at the Desert Creek housing development.
For the past year, Carlos has been studying a house that does not exist. It seems like it exists, like it’s just right there when you look at it, and it’s between two other identical houses so it would make more sense for it to be there than not, but it does not exist. Carlos said the scientists asked him to come over and ring the doorbell just to see what would happen. They offered him five dollars, but he turned them down, saying something about scientific integrity and blah blah blah- but I’m like, five dollars is a taco lunch at Jerry’s Tacos, so whatever, rich guy.
Carlos said that before he could take a step to the house, a woman emerged from the side door talking on her cellphone. He and the scientists ran up to the woman, calling out to her as she walked quickly away from the house. She looked panicked. No, not panicked… concerned. She looked concerned, Carlos said. She kept talking on her cellphone-
Oh, I… oh. Listeners, I’m sorry, but I’m going to need a moment to… oh. I… all right.
Jon, who I remind you went to the house with Carlos, recognized the woman who came out of the house- or at least, believes he recognized her, and since he’s the Avatar of an entity who’s all about Seeing and Knowing things, I’m inclined to believe him, it’s just… really shocking, listeners.
He claims that the woman… was Dana. Intern Dana, whose message I played earlier in the broadcast. He tried to talk to her- all of the scientists tried to talk to her- but she never responded. Carlos said she kept walking until she walked through them- right through them, like she were a cold wind. And then, she stopped talking into her phone, stared back toward the house, and- with a look of panic- no, with a look of concern- ran away. Carlos said… Carlos said ‘it sounded like the person she was talking to was you, Cecil.’
Listeners, I do not know where or when Dana is, but I am going to sit by this phone and wait for her call. I know she is all right. I hope she is all right. I fear she is not all right. I need to check with Jon- he would Know far better than I, or any of us, would. So, with great anxiousness- no… concern. With great concern, I take you now, to the weather.”
DIRECT MESSAGES: Cecil Palmer (or Jonathan Sims) & Dana Cardinal
Cecil changed their username to Jon.
Jon: [Transcript of a political ad from the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home (Episode 31: A Blinking Light Up On The Mountain)]
Dana: Is that one of Cecil’s files?
Jon: The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home gave me her script when I asked. She wants it to be as widespread as possible. We wanted to send the audio clip but the audio wouldn’t record. She thinks it’s because her presence and voice makes the Beholding become overprotective.
Dana: The Beholding doesn’t like her?
Jon: They don’t like each other. She doesn’t like that it and I can See her.
Dana: That makes sense. I can’t imagine hiding my whole life only to find out that someone has always been able to see me when I never wanted them to
DIRECT MESSAGES: Cecil Palmer (or Jonathan Sims) & Dana Cardinal
Cecil changed their username to Jon.
Jon: [Transcript of a political ad from the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home (Episode 32: Yellow Helicopters)]
Dana: That green head sounds like a risky mind to put in position of mayor
Jon: The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home says she’s happy to have your vote and that she’ll make sure your ballot gets submitted even if you’re still outside of Night Vale. I tried to tell her that you aren’t going to vote for her but she didn’t listen.
Dana: Are there any other candidates?
Jon: Not yet.
Dana: Then she probably has my vote, if I do manage to get back in time
Jon: No, she doesn’t.
Dana: Why not? Does she have a plan I’d hate?
Jon: Not yet.
Dana: You’re speaking in riddles again
Jon: Sorry.
“Well, this is starting to look like a Mayoral campaign for the ages! Though, I have a confession to make, Listeners: I was curious and so I asked Jon, local Avatar of the Beholding, an all-Seeing God of Fear, which candidate he thought would win the election. He stared at me for a while, in that way kids tend to do. He stared, never blinking. I wondered if he heard me, so I repeated the question, and he said the weirdest thing. Though he would not share their name or pronouns, he admitted that he thought a new candidate would appear to claim the mayorship with the blessing of Hidden Gorge.
Kids, am I right? Such imaginative little people…”
For the first time in a long time, Dana got to see people from Night Vale- people who could see her! It was under less-than-ideal circumstances, since Strex Corp had taken over Night Vale and subjected its residents to an endless cycle of work and more work, but it felt wonderful to see familiar faces and for those faces to see her back.
She did have one question about Jon’s choice of attire, however. What caught her eye was not the neon-green Hawaiian shirt with eye designs across it, or the formal skirt he wore with it, and not even the ballet shoes he had gotten somewhere (ballet became outlawed in Night Vale following an incident involving swans). No, what had her attention was the pin he wore.
Originally, it had been some sort of election pin: a public display of who had your vote. Most people in Night Vale chose not to wear such things, because it wasn’t like the Sheriff’s Secret Police didn’t know who you voted for and the election was ultimately decided by the Hidden Gorge, but there were still a few people who wore them. Whoever the candidate originally featured on the pin was, Dana couldn’t tell, because someone- probably Jon- had taken the time to change it to ‘Dana for Mayor’.
“Jon, I’m not running for mayor,” She asserted. It felt like second nature, even though most of the times she had said the phrase it had been through text. “We have bigger things to worry about.”
Besides, even if she was in Night Vale and not trapped in a Desert Otherworld, the election was today. There was no time to file the paperwork or properly campaign, no matter how easily leadership seemed to come to her, or how much the position called to her now.
Maybe in another four years.
When the Hidden Gorge announced her as the new mayor of Night Vale, Dana… she should have been surprised.
Instead, she turned to Jon, who sat with his head down, tired from a long day of fighting against Strex Corp. She had wondered why he came to her rather than Carlos or Cecil, but then the former was still unaccounted for (though probably safe, since a scientist is always fine), and now…
“...how did you know this would happen?” She asked him quietly, so only him (and the Sheriff’s Secret Police) could hear her. Her unawareness might make her seem like a weak mayor and, as Hiram McDaniels and the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home seemed displeased with the results, she could not afford to seem like a weak mayor.
“The Hidden Gorge told me,” Jon revealed, his voice quiet but not from worry of who may overhear; no, his voice was quieted by his drowsiness alone. “I told you you were interesting.”
She smiled, reaching over to ruffle his hair. He froze at the touch- only to lean into it, like Khoshekh often did. “Thank you, Jon.”
Now, how to be mayor…