It was late Friday night (Well, at least Carlos thought. Time in Night Vale is occasionally irrelevant; so in actuality it could've been very early Saturday morning.). Carlos had decided against leaving the lab that night, considering he had some chemicals that were time sensitive in their reaction. He kept part of his attention on the ticking-down timer he had set earlier. The rest of his attention was on landscape.

Carlos's lab, being on the edge of town, had a back window that overlooked the desert surrounding Night Vale. There was a longs stretch of sand and then a series of bluffs and cliffs. He had learned during his time in the city that it dropped into what they called Radon Canyon. At night, the rock and sand around it shone under the light of the moon, and as the clouds drifted across the singular lunar spotlight, the shade would change and cause a gleam of sparkles to slowly dance across the formations. It was an enchanting sight.

As he looked out the window, Carlos couldn't help but notice that the gleams seemed different. They were more colorful than usual. They changed more quickly. Instead of reds and grays, there were fluorescent greens turning to vibrant orange and flashing bursts of white light.

Carlos popped the window open a crack. From the general direction of the canyon, he could hear small, unintelligible noises. It may have been a language or a dying animal or maybe some sort of code-jamming signal. Whatever it was- it certainly wasn't normal.

His attention suddenly diverted to the chemicals- which were reacting much more quickly than they were meant to have. The blue liquid was bubbling up towards the top of the graduated cylinder. Carlos ran over and picked up plastic wrap and a rubber band. He quickly secured it over the top of the cylinder. The liquid, more deprived of oxygen, ceased to bubble. Carlos let out a sigh of relief and went to record his observations.

On Saturday night, Carlos was just packing up when he noticed more flashing coming from the back window. He quickly clicked his microscope case shut and half-jogged over to the window. He cracked it open a little. Once again, lights and odd noises were coming from Radon Canyon. They were remarkably similar to that of the previous night. He wanted to go investigate, but the majority of his scientific instruments were still sitting out. His eyes flicked between the lights and the equipment. Twice. Finally he sighed and decided he couldn't leave a messy workplace.

Once he finished, the lights had stopped.

The next night, Carlos stood at the back window, completely prepared for the lights to start up again. He had already opened the window, and had a microphone ready to record the noises to see if he could make sense of them later.

The lights started flickering from the canyon. The noises began to flow. Carlos found himself standing there, almost paralyzed, entranced.

His entire body went rigid. There was something about those unnatural noises that drove a stab of fear through Carlos. Not fear of the unknown, however, for the unknown holds interest, but an absolute feeling of gut-wrenching terror that made Carlos want to slam the window shut and run away. But he only stood there. For how long, he knew not.

Suddenly, a billboard.

It materialized from nowhere. On it resided a picture of a turkey sandwich and the word "HARLOT" in large, bold letters. It snapped Carlos out of his near-hypnotic state.

He blinked his eyes back to focus and looked to the microphone. To his dismay, he'd forgotten to turn it on. In a slight bout of frustration he knocked it off the sill. "Take that," he said defiantly, yet quietly.

Carlos sighed, which turned into a yawn. Removing his lab coat, he sat on the little couch in the back of his lab and curled up contentedly. Sleep took over quickly.

Carlos woke up the next morning with the canyon still on his mind. What could incite such sheer horror? What could literally root him to the spot with it's presence? He only really knew one person to call.

Carlos slowly opened the door to the studio. "Hello?" said the beautiful baritone voice.

"Hi Cecil. It's Carlos. I am visiting for non-personal reasons." He knew he sounded a bit dorky when he said that, but he needed to let Cecil know this was serious. Even so it embarrassed him, and his hand reached up and grabbed the back of his neck as he spoke.

"Oh!" Cecil stood up immediately from his chair and faced Carlos. He cleared his throat. His tone became smoother and sweeter, like on the radio. "Hi Carlos. How are you today?"

"I'm doing well, thanks. And you?" he replied, stepping into the small, dark room.

"I'm doing great... well now that I'm talking to you. Speaking of you, I was wondering if you were free this-"

"Cecil, have you noticed the brightly-colored lights and noises emitted from Radon Canyon this weekend?"

He paused and cocked his head to the side, his hair slightly flopping with the motion.. "Lights? I don't think so. Would you like to maybe talk about it on my show?"

"I'd rather not. But I believe there are some sinister forces at work here. Potentially something with signal-jamming abilities," he added, because he swore he had turned on that microphone.

"I'll ask for you, then. Anyway, this Saturday-"

"I'm afraid. I'm afraid for us." He spoke quickly, remembering the terror that had overtaken him. "For all of us in this strange town."

"I'll ask. I promise." Cecil sounded genuinely concerned.

The scientist stood there for a moment, head hung and silent. Cecil ambled over to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Carlos finally said, looking back up at Cecil. "But I have to go. I have to go investigate the canyon. It's my duty as a scientist."

"I know you'll figure out what's going on," assured the radio show host.

Carlos smiled. "Thanks."

"Of course."

He stood approximately 50 feet from the edge of the canyon. The sun had just gone down. This is it. he thought.

He waited.

A few City Council members gracefully made their way to the canyon from the city's edge. They didn't seem to notice Carlos.

How they even got down into the canyon was unclear to Carlos. From his point of view, it looked like they simply fell off the cliff. They each went one by one.

Once the last Council Member disappeared over the edge, Carlos crept over and peered into the canyon. He could see all the Councilmen standing in jeans and t-shirts, very different from their usual dark robes, in a formation that resembled a pentagram. They started changing and swaying.

His phone vibrated in his front lab coat pocket. Why did I even bring this? He hit the answer button anyway. "Hello?" he whispered.

"Hi Carlos. It's Cecil. Just so you know, the Parks Department said the lights were from a Pink Floyd Multimedia Laser Spectacular, so there isn't much to worry about. Oh well. What are you doing this weekend?"

As the Councilmen swayed, lights started so glow around them; lights that did, in fact, look to be lasers. To the right of them, whisps began swirling out of nowhere.

"This is even worse than I imagined," Carlos murmured into the phone.

"Are you okay?" Cecil asked.

"I have to go." He clicked his phone off an d looked for a potential way into the canyon. He saw what appeared to be a large air sack at the bottom. So he steeled himself and jumped.

He kept his eyes shut the entire way down, landing on the air sack with a small poof. He quietly crawled off and hid behind a boulder to continue watching the City Council. As his eyes adjusted he could see more. A stage-like platform. Speakers. A microphone and a guitar on a stand.

Some of the whisps took shape too as they floated up. They all looked like people, some of them like long dead ones. They shot across and around and up and down the canyon. One flew past Carlos, with a loud shriek that faded as it passed and settled on the stage.

Is that... Syd Barrett?

Are the souls of the dead whipping around this canyon all so the City Council can listen to Pink Floyd?

I hope none of them escape.

What if one of them escapes?

Carlos was internally panicking. Meanwhile Syd took the stage and picked up the guitar as if it were nothing new, as if people frequently summoned his dead soul to play them music. He took out his phone and dialed Cecil's number.

"Pardon me, Mr. The Scientist."

He froze, not daring to look up at the Councilperson. If Carlos were one to swear, he would've loosed some very colorful language.

"Hand it over."

Carlos extended his phone out to the Concilperson who snatched it and hit the call button. They walked over to the rest of the council. They all stopped and spoke in unison into the small device. Once finished, the same Coincilperson stalked back over and returned the phone to Carlos. "Get out. Never speak of this again."

He didn't really know how to get out of the canyon, but wasn't going to ask. He just ran in a general away direction.

He ended up back at the lab eventually. He did not look out the back window.