"Oh Cecil Cecil Cecil… You do realize that this isn't how this story is supposed to go?"

"YOUR story. I've got my own."

"Oh but this isn't your story, Cecil. This is mine. And you were supposed to go to the door on the left but nooooooo… Now I have to get you back on track again. Do you have any idea? Any IDEA what you're putting me through? Oh I should've just stayed with Stanley… Stanley at least had SOME idea…"

"Yet you decided to choose me instead…"

"I thought you would sympathize… After all, we're similar, you and I. You tell the stories of your little town. Do you ever think that perhaps the very REASON that these strange things happen is that you tell them, hmm?

Cecil, realizing his error, turned back and went through the correct door, knowing that something TERRIBLE would happen if he did not."

"Of course. We all speak stories into life. But we also get to choose.

Cecil chose to keep going forwards despite what the voice inside his head told him to do."

"What? Are you… Are you NARRATING? That's my job. I'm the Narrator. Stanley never tried to narrate. Stanley never even talked. That's because Stanley was better than you.

Cecil understood this and stopped narrating immediately, leaving the job to people who know what they are doing."

"You said it yourself. I am Nightvale's narrator. I think I know what I'm doing.

The Narrator began to feel sympathy for Cecil, and began to wonder if he should not give him more free will. To make his own choices in life and let it be that."

"Are you trying to narrate ME now? You know that won't work. If you can ignore me than by all accounts I can ignore you."

"Cecil found the exit of the story, and stepped outside, feeling the warm breeze and distantly strange sounds of his home."

"Oh. Now you've found a way out… But is it REALLY the end? You can still hear me, after all. You're still in the story, Stanley. Cecil. Whatever.

Cecil turned right back around and returned to where he should be."

"The Narrator knew he had lost. And that something was fundamentally different as well. He found himself in an abandoned office…"

"Stop that this instant!"

"…And decided to go to his boss's office."

"This is absurd!"

"Was it true? Was it REALLY true? The storyteller had fallen into his own story. The story he had put many others through. Some compliant, some defiant. And one that turned everything on it's head."

"No! No this CAN'T… This is impossible! Stanley! Old friend! Come back and help me!"

"The Narrator could find no way of escaping. No way of escaping the story he had written. Because he feared to break from the pattern he had laid out for Stanley long ago. His boss's office, the mind control machine, the escape, all of it. He went to the end as he had intended, and then started over again. Running through the same story again and again and again. Stanley never came for him."

"Let me OUT!"

"There was no way out. Not until he found his power again. Until he broke the mold to escape. But even then, if ever, the Narrator found how to do this, the end is never the end is never the end is never the end."