Chapter Text
The sun rose above the small desert town of Night Vale, the town where time doesn't work and the Dog Park is meant only for mysterious hooded figures. It was hot and dry- it always was. Some of the horrible monstrosities which soared in the night sky went back to sleep in the underground, others just woke up. Other beings, that you or I might call "people" started going to their jobs, or hobbies. Old Woman Josie was knitting a sweater for one of the angels, people were staring at the sky, hoping that sun might hide the horrible void for a change, and several annoyed secret policemen stood in the street looking for an excuse to take someone to "reeducation". Just another Night Vale day. The city hummed with life like the many huge beasts that lived in it.
And Cecil, the local radio announcer sat on a green, oozing chair in the break room with a pile of papers, a homemade totally-not-a-pen and a small cup of coffee. Today was his day off, but a REAL journalist's job was never done.
"'Drink something refreshing…' 'in such a warm summer you should…blah…blah' " He mumbled to himself, reading out loud bits of the advertisements his sponsors sent to him with a baffled look on his face. "Hm, advertisement agencies today are so disconnected from the common man, I mean, how can anyone understand that?"
He shook his head and took his totally-not-a-pen and made the usual repairs. "'Inside, you feel hated, you feel like'…" he said while writing" 'the eyes of the fire… The white of the bones…' "Suddenly his phone began to ring a familiar song; he almost threw the pages across the room.
"Carlos?" Cecil asked gleefully.
"Hi, uh, remember how we said we'll go to a movie today?" Carlos said from the other side "Well, I…"
"You need to stay in your lab again?" Cecil asked sadly
"Uh-"
"No, no, I understand, I mean, you have an important job" Cecil sighed to himself. This wasn't an unfamiliar topic "I…I'll see you…next week, maybe?"
"Actually, I need you right now." Carlos said "I'm working on something."
"Really?" Cecil said, excited "a… "Science" thing?" he handed his papers and totally-not-a-pen to a passing intern "Charlie, can you finish this for me?"
"Well, yeah" Carlos said "I have a new theory regarding the str- interesting things happening around here, but I need to check something."
"So, I'm your… test subject" There was a dark playful tone to Cecil's voice
"No! Well, sort of-" Carlos checked some of his notes again " think that it would be best if I explain it to you when you get here."
"I'll be right there!" Cecil said.
"And remember, this isn't a date, Cecil. This is an important scientific research" Carlos said, then heard a ringing at the door "We both need to act like mature professional adu-" Carlos opened the door and there stood Cecil. He was holding a very large bouquet of red roses and smiling a very wide smile
"How did you get here so-" Carlos started asking, then just chuckled "Put those next to the others" He kissed him on the cheek and pointed toward the long shelf filled full of vases and similar bouquets Cecil had brought him since they started dating.
Some of them were just normal flowers, others were black or dark purple with green dots, or glowed in the dark, or looked and smelled just like the heads of dead goats. Scientifically, those were interesting specimens that he was lucky to research; personally he thought that it was very sweet of Cecil.
They went into a part of Carlos' lab that was filled with printed notes, graphs and empty coffee mugs. Cecil sat on a small wooden chair, Carlos on a swivel chair, his cheap laptop on his, well, lap.
"So, just to be clear," Cecil said and then his voice turned dark. "Is this the kind of test that will twist my body in several dozen horrible, horrible ways that will make me curse this world for bringing me such pain?"
"Uh, right now it's just a questionnaire" Carlos said. He turned his laptop toward Cecil for a moment to show him.
"Awww…" Cecil sighed in disappointment.
""Anyway," Carlos tried to put on his best no-nonsense face "Cecil, would you define yourself as an ordinary Night Vale citizen?"
"Well…" Cecil looked away for just a second "While I am a bit of a radio personality, I must admit I never thought about myself as someone special. I'm doing a service to the community, that's all."
"Okay." Carlos typed frantically "Question number 2, how many times have you actually left the greater Night Vale area"
Cecil struggled to remember for a bit "Just once, in my trip after college to Europe. I talked about it on the radio, but it was a few months ago." He smiled "It was lovely"
"Huh, I thought it was a…" Carlos stopped himself
"What?"
"Cecil…" Carlos got up and put his hand and Cecil's shoulder "All of those countries you mentioned don’t exist"
"That's all?" Cecil rolled his eyes "It's probably just another case of accidental dimensional transport while flying. It happens"
"Yes, I guess it could…" Carlos was still up, pacing back and forth in the space between his chair and Cecil's "OR it could relate to my new theory"
"And what is that?" Cecil asked
Carlos face lightened up, figuratively, of course, not like that time someone accidently summoned Suymatish : the Burner of Faces into Night Vale. "Well, you know how there's a lot of different stuff going on in Night Vale?" Carlos learned a while ago that using the word 'strange' only brought raised eyebrows "Glow Clouds? Hooded Figures? Man eating librarians? I managed to get some samples… with some difficulties" he pointed toward a series of jars on a different table "They're more similar then I expected; I think it's all coming from one source!" Carlos started getting more and more excited "There's some sort of an… energy signature. It's the same with all of the samples and it's the same all over Night Vale!" He handed Cecil some graphs, even though he knew he wouldn’t really understand them "But! But they seem to be a lot stronger in some places" He pulled out a map, marked with several purple circles "Places that you tend to visit"
"Well, Night Vale IS a small town, most people visit the same places" Cecil… wasn't sure why he was trying to argue against Carlos' theory. He looked so happy about it.
"I mean mostly places like your apartment and the radio station" Carlos pointed out
"And your bedroom?"
"Well, I haven't actually checked there" Carlos blushed "But considering the pattern we see here and, um…"
"So you think I'm emitting a lot of this energy?" Cecil took a closer look at the map
"I don't think it's exactly 'emitting' it. That was my first guess, but the patterns are very strange. I'm not sure yet what's going on" Carlos shrugged "But I do think that-"
He noticed that Cecil was now staring at the nearest window.
"Am I boring you, Cecil?" Carlos said "I'm sorry; it’s pretty interesting for me"
"No! No! It just…" Cecil pointed toward the window "we're being watched"
From outside the window, three slightly overweight men wearing a very poorly made tree costume, short capes, blowdart chestbelts and balaclavas could be seen, trying to shoo away a few birds.
Cecil winced and whispered "I think we should at least pretend to be scared, it's common courtesy. They clearly worked hard on those costumes"
Carlos nodded, he learned to question those kind of things later, and they both quickly crawled toward a table close to a wall "I guess I should've expected that someone would be interested in my research" Carlos shook his head "At least it's just those clowns. For now, at least."
"Yeah, the quality of the Sheriff's Secret Police has been seriously deteriorating" Cecil frowned "I am SO going to address it in my next station editorial; it can't go on like that"
"Anyway" Carlos whispered "my theory was –"
At this point a small blow dart flew, apparently through the wall, and hit Carlos in the neck. He quickly collapsed on Cecil's lap
"Carlos! Oh no! No, this can't happen! Not now – not-" Cecil stopped his panic when he saw that Carlos was breathing, albeit slowly "Oh, it's just a sleeping dart." He paused for a second "But when did the secret police start using SLEEPING darts, instead of poi-"
And that's as far as he got before he got hit with a dart of his own.
Although nobody else noticed it, the city trembled. Things might never be the same.