This Fanfic will hold spoilers for most of Night Vale so far. Year Two and Three in particular.
It will also contain references and spoilers for both seasons of the Netflix original series Stranger Things. Spoilers for Season 2 will come much later in the plot but consider yourself warned!
This chapter in particular contains specific reference to WTNV #33 Cassette so at least get that far.
Go watch Stranger Things! It's fantastic!
The following report is classified; For those with clearance only!
–
October 15, 1976
Fifteen year-old Cecil Gershwin Palmer was found dead this morning in his living room. The cause of death is unknown the body was found in the middle of glass shards from a broken mirror but had suffered no visible injuries.
When questioned by the Sheriff's Secret Police Cecil's mother did not seem to react outside of repeating the phrase "Beware, be warned, be wary." When the police returned to the living room to collect the body for further examination the body had disappeared. The Secret Police are denying the possibility that it was stolen.
Cecil Palmer is hereby missing; presumed dead.
Remember, if you see something...say nothing.
The following reports were recovered from a vague yet menacing government facility. Somewhere in the middle of the American desert.
This is all that could be recovered from the computer hard drive. The rest of the data has been corrupted
–
Experiment file #006
Report Number 25478
ID Number: 006
Blood Type: -7
006 has shown unprecedented progress. Monitoring the subject's brainwaves resulted in the discovery of heightened speech capabilities and persuasion techniques. Testing proved promising as it appears that the subject can subtlety influence the listeners will. It's quite possible we've discovered low level mind control.
Both 006 and 007 have bizarre blood mutations that could prove interesting in terms of testing.
006 has an unnatural amount of white blood cells although admittedly I am more curious at 007's blood samples. Which are the exact opposite.
006 has also proved very adapt at what I have come to simply refer to as Jumping; so far 006 seems to be the only one capable of plane jumping; an ability more visibly apparent whenever the subject is near a mirror or other such reflective surface.
Report #25499
[ Status Critical: MIA ]
Bloodstone monitoring reported high levels of activity surrounding the house. Investigation proved fruitless. A mirror was shattered and the body has disappeared. It's now clear that letting the test subject have exposure to the outside world was mistake. Contact sister lab in Hawkins Indiana to request backup in retrieval of rogue test subject.
–
Experiment File #007
[ Status Critical: AWOL ]
007 has escaped containment.
They have managed to flee the facility without detection. Our security alarm frequency had been tampered with and by the time we realized what was going on the test subject had already managed to flee across town lines.
With two of our maximum security test subjects now loose on the area we have officially been compromised. The boss has requested a complete data erase.
10% Complete
–
45% Complete
–
69% Complete
–
99% Complete
–
Are you sure you want to Erase all Data?
Yes
No
Data Erase Complete
June 1st 2012, Hawkins Indiana
–
"S.O.S. Subject Six has disappeared. Situation critical. Requesting backup to retrieve the subject. I repeat requesting backup. Situation Critical. Please respond...Situ...cr...S-"
The message dissolved into a burst of high-pitched radio static.
Garrison tore off his headset and clutched at his head while he muffled a curse under his breath.
"Shit."
Evidently not quietly enough because his superior is suddenly behind him. Imposing shadow looming out across the desk and the nearly overpowering scent of coffee in the air.
"Problem, Garrison?" His superior inquiries with a measured look at the man.
Garrison turns in his chair to face the man in the dark suit and sunglasses and for a split second contemplates lying.
Then he's fiddling with buttons, praying that the shaking of his hands isn't as noticeable as he thinks it is.
He thrusts the abused headset from where it had landed on his desk at his superior without a single word.
Pressing play on the rewound transmission.
He waits until his superior is removing the headset and handing it back. Expression stern if it weren't for the white-knuckled grip on the piece of equipment. Garrison would have thought he'd imagined the distress signal.
"I need you to start tracing this. If I don't see a map within the next hour with at least a six hundred mile radius or you can kiss your job goodbye, are we clear?"
Garrison is already typing frantically on his computer and opting to nod instead of speak.
"Ramirez, Get over here!"
There's the sound of footsteps and Garrison hands the headset over his shoulder without turning around or pausing in his task of tracing the radio signal. Stopping just long enough to reply the message for a third time.
Silence ensues broken only by the clicking of his keyboard.
"Got it!" Garrison declares triumphantly as a grainy image takes up the screen of his computer.
"Bring it up on the main monitor."
Everyone else looks up in mild curiosity as the image floods onto every computer screen in the database including the wall to wall monitor at the front of the room.
"Subject 6 last reported location was here." Garrison taps his computer screen and a red dot marks the image,
"I've got you an estimated search area of eight hundred miles to start with," Garrison zooms out on the image and enters coordinates. The map lights up. "We'll just call that the red zone."
"Well I don't pay you to be creative." The superior pinches his nose and sighs audibly.
"Good news?"
"It's a fairly remote area."
"Bad news?"
"There are three towns in the red zone. That's a rough estimate of anywhere from six thousand to twenty thousand people who will probably start asking questions."
"Pine Cliffs, Desert Bluffs and Night Vale."
Their supervisor turns away from the map.
"Ramirez! I'm giving you the responsibility to fix this mess. How many men do you need?"
"None."
There's a stunned silence as everyone turns to stare at the man who has just pulled the headset off.
"None?" Their superior raises a skeptical eyebrow.
"You said it yourself. The last thing we want is people to ask questions. It's not exactly subtle if we invade the place."
"I don't really think you understand what you're going up against."
Carlos shrugged. "Who does?"
The question was obviously rhetorical.
The superior matches Carlos' shrug with one of his own.
"It's your funeral Ramirez."