Her name was Dana.

Sometimes she would stop, look up at the sky, and say her name in case she forgot. She didn't know how she could forget her name but the idea of it concerned her. No, not concerned. It made her uneasy. So she would stop walking and look up at the endless grey sky as she stood in the endless desert, tell it "My name is Dana," and keep walking.

Once it struck her that people were supposed to have more than one name. A last name. People had those too. Dana didn't have a last name.

It made her uneasy.


There was something big following her. The thought was the only thing that kept her walking. It was following her and she wasn't quite sure what would happen it caught up. Sometimes it got closer and she ran, ran, ran to get farther away. Now it was further behind and she walked.

She walked and walked through the endless desert staring at the mountain and the red light that flashed at it's peak. Dana had decided to start believing in mountains. Back home people said they didn't exist, but there was a mountain in front of her though it was an endless distance away. You had to believe in mountains when they were in front of you. When in Rome, after all. Burn the bridges and sack the streets.

Dana checked her cell phone again. The time was the same. 6:47 PM March 1st. The same time and day she'd walked into the Dog Park. It felt like it had been longer. A lot longer.

Sometimes she wondered what things would have been like if she had not gone into the Dog Park. If she had listened to the City Council and stayed out. The Dog Park was forbidden after all. It had likely been for a reason. Like to keep people out of the endless desert. Or to keep the Council's stash of Chunky Monkey protected. Or to keep the pack of razor wolves who drooled acid contained. You know, important Council reasons.

If she hadn't entered the Dog Park she would be at the radio station right now. Probably helping Cecil painstakingly put the weather together. The weather report was important to Night Vale. Perhaps the most important thing. If not for the weather the citizens of Night Vale would now know if rain, sleet, snow, or blood was about to pour down from the heavens. They wouldn't know to prepare for shark-nados or to enter their drop bear shelters. Cecil was very particular about the weather. It had to be accurate and just right.

Cecil.

She told the sky her name and wondered if she should give Cecil a call. While she could always call her mother or brother somehow that didn't seem important. If she was to call someone it had to be Cecil. She had liked Cecil. He had been a good boss. While he wasn't tall or short or fat or thin or young or old he had a melodic and soothing voice. She had liked his voice. He had been kind to her, letting her go on assignment even though she was only an intern.

Or perhaps he had been cruel. Very, very cruel.

Dana looked at the mountain she believed in and felt the big thing get closer. She looked at her cell phone. It had only a twenty percent battery. She could call Cecil later.

Putting it back into her pocket, Dana ran.


When she next looked up at the sky she couldn't remember her name. Did it start with a B? Maybe a T? Had she even had a name before? For a moment she was uneasy - no not uneasy, insane - but then she remembered and smiled.

"My name is Name," she told the endless grey sky in the endless grey desert and the face in the sky that looked like her own screamed at her and wept, tearing gouges out of its face with blunt fingernails. She smiled at it again and kept walking.

It was good to have company.


The endless desert wasn't endless she was surprised to find as she reached the base of the mountain. She looked up to see if the face in the sky could help her but it wasn't useful at all. It was still dead. A worm crawled out of it's empty eye socket and fell to the ground miles away, creating a minor explosion. The wind from it reached her and she smelled peaches.

Sighing and tapping her foot at the rudeness of sky faces she checked her cell phone again. 6:47 PM. March 1st. Twenty percent battery. She had made good time. Though it had felt like longer.

As she'd walked the endless desert her boots had worn through, dissolved into pieces, and fallen off her feet. Her clothes had rotted away except for the pocket she'd saved and carefully carried with her to hold her phone. Her hair now reached the ground, tumbling with the dust and rocks of the not-so-endless desert. For some reason she thought her hair had been short when she'd started.

It couldn't have been too long though. As she'd walked the less-than-endless desert she hadn't felt tired or thirsty or hungry or hot or cold or much of anything at all. It was a very particular feeling to feel nothing at all. She imagined that this was what it was like to be a corpse.

The big thing was lurking somewhere behind her. She knew that if she tried to walk away from the mountain it would get her. The only way was up.

Looking up at the sky she told it a string of blasphemous words so vile it burned her throat and she tasted blood. Just like the demon who rode on her shoulder and carved glyphs into her skin had taught her. Then, using a twisted fingernail to cut a symbol into the rock of the mountain cliff she began to glow and rise as static filled the air and, in a time and place apart, thousands began to scream out in their nightmares.


At the top of the mountain there was a field.

There was a lighthouse in the field.

There was no water.

For some reason she thought of a shoreline boardwalk in the desert, but she dismissed that idea as soon as it entered her head. Who would ever be so silly as to build a shoreline boardwalk in a desert?

The big thing had caught up with her. She was surprised to find the big thing had been her. No not surprised. Understanding. She understood now. She understood everything.

Lumbering forward she smiled as she approached the light house. Smiled as she saw its red flashing light and knew what it meant. In the sky above her a younger girl, a younger Dana was staring at her, her face full of worry.

No, not worry. Concern.

The thing that had been Dana hoped that this other one would straighten the damn picture. Then, opening the lighthouse door and smiling at what she found inside she entered and carefully shut the door behind.

The lighthouse light stopped blinking.

And then it started again.

Red again.