This story was inspired by the story Welcome to Night Vale by cupidity11

This is Carlos/Cecil, rated M for possible adult themes and language (though I doubt I need it but it's better to be safe than sorry)

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6

My phone was ringing loudly. I distinctly remembered silencing it whenever I go to sleep so I'm not bothered anymore. Waking up to a phone call can be quite annoying. I opened my eyes and looked at my phone with a glare. I then wondered who the hell turned it on in the first place. Gregory was cocking his head at it, his ears perked up. I grabbed my phone lazily and answered it.

"Tell them that this is a stupid idea!" A man said over the line.

"What?" I asked. I heard an audible sigh from the other side.

"A drawbridge Carlos! They want to build a drawbridge!" The man said. I felt a pang of panic and sat up. This stranger had been calling me for a while but I didn't know he knew my name.

"How do you know my name and number?" I asked, "Who are you?"

There was silence over the other line. I held my breath in wait.

"That isn't important." The man said.

"Yes it is!" I returned, "I have no idea who you are and you know my name and number! That's stalking if you just found them out!"

"Turn on your radio!" The man said loudly.

"My power is out." I said. I paused. I just woke up, so how—I couldn't hear Cecil's wonderful voice this morning.

"You need to tell them that this is a bad idea." The man continued over the phone.

"Why should I?" I asked, "We have a water front recreation center even though there is no water."

"They're wasting money!" The man said.

"This is a democracy." I said, getting up and heading for the kitchen, "If we are the only two descending voices, they'll go along with the plan anyway."

"If you don't want it, maybe Cecil will agree with you." He said.

"How do you know Cecil?" I asked, clenching my jaw.

"We have history." The man said, "Could you give him a call?"

"No." I said, "No I won't. Do you really expect me to help you if you don't bother introducing yourself or even telling me who you are?"

The man on the other line was silent for a while. I sat there quietly, waiting for a response.

"I have a name." The man said.

The radio caused me to jump. Cecil's voice suddenly filled the room.

To be honest, here at Night Vale Radio we don't know exactly what the station is for, or what master it is serving. But I do know that it is a vital part of this community, and we should pitch in to help it. We welcome your support. Give us a call! We don't have a number; just whisper "Forsaken Algonquinia" into your phone receiver, and Angels, or Facebook, or something, will deliver us an appropriate contribution from your bank account.

"What's going on over there?" The man asked over the line. I sighed. I'd had just about enough of this man. It irked me that he was so curious.

"Why do you care?" I asked impatiently. He paused for a while and I sighed. Gregory was scratching the wood on the counter now. I placed the stranger on speaker and muted the phone. I placed it on the counter while idly listening to Cecil. I'd finished pouring Gregory and I cereal when Cecil's voice caught me.

You know what? Forget it. I can tell you right now that that was Steve Carlsberg who said that, and he is such a spoilsport, that Steve!

I walked over to my phone and un-muted it. I also took it off of speaker.

"So you're Steve Carlsberg?" I asked him.

"What of it?" Steve asked, defensively. I put him on speaker and walked back to my cereal, turning the radio up enough so I knew he caught it on the other side. I figured he didn't listen to Cecil's show as regularly as I did.

It's laziness, pure and simple. Laziness. I just can't let him ruin our town by denying Night Vale a drawbridge when he can't even care for a tan Corolla!

"It seems Cecil doesn't really like you." I told him from across the room. The phone suddenly hung up, and I began to chuckle softly. Gregory hissed at my phone after Steve hung up.

Cecil began to talk about Leanne Heart, and what new thing she was planning with the newspaper but I tuned that out. It was the liquidity that filled Cecil's voice that entranced me every day his show was on. It wasn't on every day anymore, which I missed. Usually they'd just reply the episode that Cecil made last every day until the new one came out. I sighed, and finished my breakfast.

The firefighters Claimed that there was some foul play involved (pun intended, dear listeners), as their entire bullpen was assassinated in the middle innings with blow darts. Those murders remain unsolved and completely uninvestigated. Our hearts go out to the families of the deceased relief pitchers. Rest in peace.

I shivered at the thought of being killed over a silly game. I sighed. This is Night Vale. I walked back into my room and noticed something was…different. I had a lot more noises than what I was used to. I got dressed and noticed I was on a second floor. Cautiously I walked downstairs and sure enough I was now in the lab. I stood there, as well as the other scientists, confused.

"We didn't have an upstairs before, right?" Samantha asked. I nodded.

"I…" I started, "I guess I live here now?"

From the radio, we all just began hearing a moaning sound. It wasn't provocative in any way, it more sounded like Cecil was bored. All of us were just watching the radio, waiting for something different to happen, but nothing did. As I turned to talk to one of my co-workers about this strange phenomenon, Cecil announced the traffic.

"What do you mean you live here?" Samantha asked me. I sighed.

"Upstairs is my apartment." I said. They all looked at each other in confusion. I shivered a little, taking out my journal and quickly jotting down what happened.

Sagittarius: Eat well today! You've earned it. And by it, I mean massive food allergies. And by earned, I mean acquired. I should proof this stuff before I read it out loud. Let's try that again. You've acquired massive food allergies. Yes, much cleaner. Eat well!

I saw one of our interns looking at her plate of food, sighing slightly. She looked over at the radio.

"Please tell me he's joking!" She cried out, the plate half eaten. I quietly turned the page of my journal and began to jot down what the intern said. I had no idea of what Cecil said was right, but there's only one way to figure that out.

Taurus: Today is your annual Crime Day. All Taurus's are exempt from laws today.

Almost immediately after Cecil spoke, a rock was smashed through the window at the lab. A man was trying to break in. The intern had also keeled over and vomited an obvious sign of food allergies. I closed my eyes, trying not to panic. I began to hum softly, letting whoever it was ransack our lab. The man ran up to me and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me roughly. He snapped me out of the relaxing little state I was in. He had dirty blonde hair. Not the color, I mean his hair was really grubby. He had frantic blue eyes, and was covered in dirt.

"Where is it?" He asked me. I could immediately identify him as Steve Carlsberg.

"Are you a Taurus?" I asked him in response.

"N—don't change the subject! Where is it?" He said. I sighed.

"Where is what?" I asked, sounding more defeated than I would have liked to.

"Your radio!" He said. I looked around a little, noticing that Amber had hid it from us. I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"Why do you need it?" I asked him. He shook me again.

"Don't you realize what's going on? Cecil is feeding you lies! He's only saying what the government tells him to." Steve said, "And he can't be trusted because of that."

"I don't care." I told him, taking his grubby hands off of my lab coat, "its Cecil's job to read what they give him, just like every other news person in the world. They can only tell a certain amount of things at a certain time."

And now for a station editorial.

"Some of Cecil's own words, ha!" Steve said, sounding very childish.

Large, expensive projects are not uncommon in Night Vale. We are a patient, yet resilient, little city. We have big dreams—sometimes scary, unforgettable dreams that repeat on the same date every year and are shared by every person it town, but we make those big dreams come true.

"Write that down, as well as what Cecil says next." I told a different intern quickly. He nodded and quickly jotted down what Cecil said.

Remember the Clock Tower? It took eight years and $23 million to build. And despite its invisibility, and constant teleportation, it is a lovely structure that keeps impeccable time. It's a classy signature for Night Vale's growing skyline, unlike that hideous sports arena Desert Bluffs build last spring. Desert Bluffs can't do anything right. That's where Steve Carlsberg belongs! God, what a jerk.

I stared at Steve as he sent it off to the weather. I sighed.

"Yes," I told him sarcastically, "Cecil speaks only what the government tells him and they're all lies."

"Thank you!" Steve said, not picking up on my sarcasm. Just then, loud banging could be heard on the door. I walked to the door and opened it before Secret Police could knock it down, letting them stroll in calmly. They saw the window was broken.

"Did Steve Carlsberg do this?" One of the Secret Police members asked me.

"Yes, why?" I asked. He nodded, looking right at where Carlsberg had been. He was gone, escaped through the window. They quickly thanked me and left, chasing after him in a black windowless van.

A couple of days later I called Cecil. I told him what happened, and told him not to put it on his show out of fear of him possibly losing his job. He told me it was fine, and that he couldn't lose his job. I replied by stating I didn't want him to get hurt. Cecil let me go since he had to do the next segment.

Apparently, the Sheriff's Secret Police agree with me about old Steve Carlsberg, dear listeners…

"Why tell Cecil about that?" Amber asked me.

"Obviously there's a reason why Cecil hates him so much. I mean, the man doesn't hate people from this town." I replied.

I can't tell you who…let's just say, muchos gracias, El Presidente! Mano dura,cabeza, y corazón.

I stretched, and then remembered I lived upstairs. I could go home whenever I wanted. This also meant I couldn't take the day off. I went upstairs to my room, changing into pajamas and climbing into the bed, stroking Gregory's fur. He purred and cuddled up to me.

Buenos noches, Night Vale. Goodnight.


I'm so sorry that I've taken a while to update this! I promise I'll try to get more done soon! I feel so bad about leaving you all in the dust. But, Chapter 7 is almost done (I think).