Cecil sighed, relaxing in his swivel chair once again. Was he going to be stuck here forever? It wasn't terrible, he loved being the voice of Night Vale! But he always ran along the same lines, like one of those trains he saw once in Europe; always on the set tracks. It was wake up, get ready, go to work, come home when work was over, go to sleep - pretend to sleep - and repeat. Well, there was the mandatory slice at Big Rico's, but he decided it didn't count.
Why was he the one captured? He was smart, he was respected even though no one knew what he looked like; so why?
Cecil sighed and glaced uninterestedly at his purple tattoos, not glowing as much as they used to. Everything was dull, even his startlingly blond hair; and the spark in his violet eyes had been erased.
He shut all three of his eyes and allowed himself to slump, hard, onto the desk on his elbows.
The new intern, Dana, poked her head around the doorframe, "Are you alright Cecil?"
Cecil's head shot up. "Yes, fine," he dismissed, his voice trying so despirately to sound as fluid and bright as it used to be; a facade that was crumbling. It had been crumbling since he found out he was trapped here now. Set on tracks.
"We still have a while before the weather finishes, it's a long one today; why don't you go pet Khoshekh?" Dana offered, knowing that Cecil put more affection onto that cat than any person in Night Vale and loved to just talk to him.
"Yeah, I think I will," Cecil offered a weak smile and got up out of his chair. He walked out of his studio as straight and tall as he could, but it wasn't much.
Dana smiled sadly after him. 'There goes Atlas...' she thought to herself. Cecil did often look like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Cecil walked up to his beloved cat and stroked a finger under the cat's soft chin, being careful of the poison sacks. "Oh, Khoshekh; I don't think I can keep doing this..."
Khoshekh nuzzled up to The Scar on his arm. "Clever boy," Cecil cooed, "But you mustn't tell anyone; they already think I'm a freak."
Khoshekh's eyes seemed to show some understanding as the cat closed them, tilting his head down in almost a sagely nod.
Cecil stared at his bracletes - his shacles - and groaned. He felt the distant urge to smash something, but he didn't want to scare his lovely Khoshekh.
"Khoshekh... I don't know how to explain it, but I think I'm dying... really soon. It's not because I don't love you; I just... can't anymore..." There are tears in his eyes as Khoshekh tried to bite through one of the bracletes, "Nice try, kitty; but it doesn't work."
Khoshekh gave a sad meow in reply.
The door cracked open. "Cecil, I think you should head back now," Dana advised from outside.
"Sure, I'll be right there!" he called back