Hi! Just wanted to let you know that I updated my profile and put up the first and last names of the scientists in this story. If you're interested, please check it out. Also I have specific reasons behind most of the names - if you want to know what those are, let me know.
Day One Hundred and Thirty-Six in Night Vale.
We got the antidote to Dr. Cameron in time. He's on sick leave – which he hates – but should be back early next week. He keeps trying to sneak into the lab in the mean time, but someone, usually Dr. Green, catches him and drives him back to his apartment.
That's the good news. The bad news?
*slow sigh*
Dr. Cameron wasn't the only one bitten. Dr. Jacobs was as well, but instead of acting like the genius he so often claimed to be, he never told anyone. I think it was because no one else – other than Dr. Nolan – knows to create a snake venom antidote and, even then, Dr. Jacobs was more of an expert.
Yes, "was". By the time the rest of us realized that he'd been bitten, the venom had spread too far. We tried the antidote but it didn't work. He died the day after being bitten.
Rest in peace, Harry.
…Unrelated to that, the loud crashing I had heard at the end of my last set of notes was caused by the snakes turning into a swirling cloud of dust and debris. It shouted something in Latin as we contained it in the freezer room – if my high school classes were correct, the phrase, translated ridiculously loosely, means, "A curse upon you and your descendants! You will never again sense the presence of invisible turkeys!"
It was either "invisible turkeys" or "Turkish invaders". My Latin's kinda rusty.
Anyway, we got it locked away in the freezer and it disappeared somewhere between then and two days later. On his show, Cecil described the thing as a "malevolent spirit". O-kay then.
Sunsets in Old Town Night Vale have been shrieking. It's been going on a while, apparently, but no one in main Night Vale can hear it. If Dr. Ford hadn't been investigating a bizarre disappearance over there at the right time, we never would've known.
Looking into the matter, we discovered that several strange things have been happening at the same time as the sunsets. There were two non-fatal heart attacks, twelve cases of severe muscle atrophy, and around two dozen people grew extra eyes.
We talked to the president of the community group "Soundproof Old Town!", a man named Walton Kincaid. He had spoken out against the Town Council's claim that the noise came from windmill farms out by Desert Bluffs. According to Kincaid, and later backed by a trip led by Dr. Nolan, the windmill farms are nonexistent.
Kincaid also claimed that the farms don't work because of, and I quote, "Desert Bluff's staggering incompetence". How something can't work if it doesn't exist, I have absolutely no idea.
I mean, there's a farmer on the edge of town who grows imaginary corn and yet receives a grant of $500,000. A few of the times I've eaten at Old Woman Josie's she's served that corn. Far as I can tell it tastes exactly the same as normal corn even though it's imaginary.
There's a lot of interesting – and dangerous – things to investigate here in Night Vale, but there isn't a lot of answers. Stuff happens without a viable explanation. It's kinda hard to be a scientist in Night Vale as a result, but neither I nor my team is ready to give up.
The five-headed dragon was apparently arrested the other day. He has five heads, breathes fire, and can fly…yet the "secret" police needed to fingerprint him in order to confirm that he's a dragon.
*slow sigh*
The non-shrieking sunsets are occuring at a normal time, while the sunrises have been starting five minutes later than they're supposed to.
In other news, Cecil's going on and on about the dragon – Hiram McDaniels, I think his name is. He's apparently "very dynamic-looking" and has "piercing" eyes. How is that relevant to a story about his arrest?
Anyways, Mo the butterfly is still alive. We've been managing to find the right kind of leaves and things to feed him with.
He hasn't eaten much since Dr. Jacobs died.
If butterflies can mourn, I think that's what Mo's been doing. Besides the loss in appetite, he hasn't done a lot of flying and his antennae droop when we're not looking directly at him. Dr. Bering's volunteered to look for another butterfly to keep Mo company. Hope that works.
"Roguish dragon"? How – never mind. And who cares if he has a blog?
Whatever.
Back to more science-y things, the glow cloud – which is still on the school board – hasn't dropped any more dead animals yet. Its…kid, I guess, has dropped a few kittens, but those have thus far survived.
I think Dr. Vorpal is considering adopting one – she's a huge cat person.
The City Council is voting next Thursday to outlaw breathing as an involuntary muscular action. I sincerely hope that doesn't pass. But considering they've already outlawed writing utensils…who knows?
Fingers crossed.
That's all for tonight. This is Dr. Carlos Munoz, recording from Night Vale.
