TAPE 1: RADIO MATERIAL

RECORDING . . .

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Night Vale, the following story comes to you as a narration of yesterday's events from the eyes of your, as always, caring host. Let's not waste any time.

"Well, Night Vale," I said into my microphone, resting my chin in my hand and sighing lightly into the mic's mesh, metal surface, "following up on the story earlier reported on, it seems that the strange and unidentified forms making their way down the streets of our humble desert town have begun to grow angry. These forms appear to have taken on the appearance of childrens' toys. Why, Night Vale, have our once harmless dolls and action figures and rubber balls and play dough constructs turned against us? Will we ever find out?" I paused. "Likely not."
The door to my recording studio groaned and swung open. I looked up and a smile twisted onto my face. "However, don't you worry, listeners! I have called in perfect, beautiful Carlos to find the answers for us." I sighed happily. "His lab coat rustles behind him as he walks, rhythmically matching gusts of the non existent wind. Really, Night Vale. We are indoors. What has possessed his coat to blow about that way?"

Carlos approached me, dropping a stack of paperwork on my desk and giving me a look that said that the conversation we were about to have was not radio material.

So don't tell him I'm telling you this.

"It seems that beautiful, majestic Carlos would like to seek an audience with me in private, dear listeners. I am so sorry about this. His eyes appear...quite serious. Although no less gorgeous than they usually are. I will have to bring us, prematurely, to the weather. I hope you enjoy."

With that, I flipped a switch and my mic turned off, the broadcast going instead to a jovial little tune about distant futures and self destruction.

"Carlos? What is it?" I asked. His arms were folded. He looked down at the papers. I picked up the first in the stack. It was part of a lengthy diagnostic report that Carlos had done on the demonic toy figures. The report detected signs of life, but not any kind of life that the scientists of Night Vale-or any scientists at all, for that matter-had yet identified until now. "Why, Carlos, this is an amazing breakthrough in science! I knew you could do it," I said. A strange feeling swelled in my chest. Similar to the jittery, floating feeling one gets when having inhaled too much radioactive airborne waste. But in a good way.

Carlos got a faraway look in his eyes. One he had been getting more and more often as life progressed within this little town. He simply shook his head.

"Carlos?"

He opened his mouth to speak. Then, he closed it again.

"I can't wait to tell Night Vale about this-" I began.

That. That ignited a fire within Carlos's otherwise dark, calm eyes. "No," he growled in a deep, deep voice. A voice that rumbled like thunder. No, deeper than thunder. A voice that rumbled and broke like the growls that come from the unseen dogs lurking within Night Vale's forbidden dog park.

I hesitated this time. "What?"

"Cecil, will you come with me?"

I had to stop for a moment, recoiling from Carlos's stack of paperwork. I felt at my chest to make sure that my heart was still beating. I felt that some change must have occurred within my body, for things seemed to have changed. "You want me to go somewhere with you?" Carlos had never invited me anywhere with him. Our continuous contact was limited to the times he had taken the initiative to come to my recording studio and supply me with reports on Night Vale's happenings and the scientific implications of such happenings. His work had always been strictly business. But an invitation?

Night Vale, I daresay I was blushing.

Then I realized that I had yet to answer. "Y-Yes! Yes, I will." I cleared my throat. "Yes."

He grabbed me by the arm, Night Vale, and he dragged me from my recording studio.

I will take this time to explain that this is why, after the weather segment was over, the rest of the evening's usual broadcast consisted of uninterrupted static rather than my voice. However, this explanation does not include any sort of reasoning behind the unearthly slithering and slurping noises that occasionally overpowered the static, nor does it justify the guttural screams that followed such slurping noises.

Then, Carlos proceeded to take me to his car, strong hand still clamped onto my wrist and tugging me along at an alarming rate. "In," he said.

Ah, Carlos. A man of few words. Few powerful words.

Needless to say, I got in. He began driving down the dusty desert road leading away from Night Vale's only radio station. "Where are we going?" I asked hopefully. I mindfully smoothed down a few wild strands of white hair, my smile growing ever wider.

"To my laboratory," he said.

My eyes widened. "Why, Carlos, no one besides you has ever seen inside your laboratory. And no one ever will. You made that quite clear the first time you came to my recording studio, such a long while ago. It is a sacred place. A place of distant truths and-"

"I know what I said. But, we are going to my laboratory. There are some things that are there that I want you to see."

I am pretty sure that at that point, I made a noise akin to a squeak. Carlos smiled faintly.

That smile quickly vanished as we pulled onto a barren road. He got out of his car to unlock a gate and then drove us through. Finally, we arrived outside of a large, white building. "This way." He didn't wait for me to follow. I scrambled out and struggled to keep up with his purposeful stride and strong gait.

I couldn't help but admire the shape of his tight butt, showing now and then as his lab coat rustled in the breeze (does it just always do that or what?).

Then we were at the door and Carlos was snapping his fingers in my face. "Cecil. Focus. You are about to see things that...well, living here? They shouldn't surprise you that much. But listen, you can't tell anyone about these things. I know that you'll be tempted to talk about it on your radio show, but you can't, okay?"
I tried to form words with my lips. No sound came out.

"Promise me that."

[ -several seconds of radio silence- ]

Night Vale, I...well, I have to admit. I…

[ -3 minutes of radio silence- ]

I promised.

[ -the sound of scraping nails- ]

My voice shook. I forced a smile. "But you said it yourself, nothing out of the ordinary should happen, right? It's not like you've been investigating anything…unusual. Right?"

He sighed softly. His richly dark skin was overshadowed by the building behind him. Razor stubble lined his jaw, making him look rugged and shockingly attractive at the same time. "Let's go inside, Cecil," he whispered. His voice had a soft quality that I'd never heard before.

He took me inside. The inside of Carlos's laboratory was a strange and confusing place. It was flawlessly organized, but going inside, I soon became hopelessly lost. Winding hallways led off in all directions. He took me down so many random turns that it didn't take very long before I was completely turned around. "Cecil, are you aware that Night Vale is completely unlike all other known cities? That the culture that exists in this town is unlike other known cultures? That the things that exist here exist only here?"

I stared at him. "Well, sure, Night Vale has at time been home to the occasional...odd event. And I'm sure that there aren't that many people that can say they live down the street from angels." My eyebrows knit together as I frowned. "But Night Vale isn't terribly abnormal. Is it?"

"Cecil, do you know why Night Vale is the way it is?" Carlos's pace quickened with every word that he said. His beat up converse looked like they could use a break. The man was going to burn holes through the bottoms at the rate he was going.

"Night Vale is as it has always been. A humble desert community-"

Carlos stopped. "Damn it, Cecil!" He punched the wall.

"Carlos!" I ran to his side, wrapping my fingers around his fist and gently pulling it away from the wall, which was undamaged. The same could not be said for Carlos's bloody knuckles. "Oh, you poor thing. Does it hurt? It must hurt terribly. Your skin. Your poor, beautiful skin…"

I looked up at Carlos and saw that his face was stone cold. His powerful jawline held his expression together solidly. And yet, his eyes… Something in them was breaking. "Cecil, there is something that you desperately need to see."

I smiled. "Well I'm right here, Carlos. But first, we need to clean off your hand."

He pulled it away. "That's not important right now."

I yelped. "Of course it's important! You're bleeding."

He started to turn. I groped for his hand in the near darkness of the hallway. A few stray drops of blood hit the floor. "Cecil, there is… something that exists as the source of all of the strange things that go on in and around Night Vale. Something that exists inside of this desert. Okay?"

"Well of course there is. Everything has a source and a cause, one way or another. You're a scientist. You should know that." I pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket and wrapped it around his hand, letting it soak up the blood.

"This is different. I've been...attempting to study some things. Attempting to find and understand the entity that is causing the insane things that go on here, and has been causing them since the town's construction. Do you understand what I'm trying to say? All of it. The misery. The pain. The loss of life. The confusion. It could end."

"What?" I slowed down, forcing Carlos to slow down with me, being that I still had his hand in a death grip.

Carlos was looking into my eyes now. "I don't know how, but there must be a way. I've been looking into it ever since I came here. That's why I came here. I've diverted my attention to one thing or another when necessary-or when you've needed me-but finding the underlying epicenter of all of this chaos? That has always been my goal. It could end, Cecil. It could end."

"What could end?"

"Night Vale."

[ -radio silence- ]

[ -muffled, indiscernible mumbling- ]

He's right.

He's right. I can't broadcast this.

Damn it.

Damn it all.

END RECORDING. . .

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