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Before Night Vale, there had been Carlos. Not Perfect Carlos. Not sweet and amazing Carlos. Just Carlos. But, was that accurate? Did he ever feel like just Carlos? He wasn’t sure, but he never quite felt whole. There were pieces of him- fragments ofa metaphorical soul that were incomplete. He was incomplete. He first reallized this whe he was fifteen.
It was actual experence. He had been in his room, fiddeling with an old wakie when he glanced over at the television. A young and handome man was dancing on the screen. Carlos could remember finding the man attractive, but nothing else came to mind. Moments later, the sceen went black. The music was still playing, but only in a higher pitch. he screen then changed color, purple, and on its screen appeared an eyeball.
Was this part of the program? Carlos hought. He walked over to the old television, and shut it off. A wave of emptiness and bitter hatred waved over him. He waved if off though. Television, of course, was bad for brain cells anyway.
Weeks had pad past and the young andbeautiful teen had forgotten about the weird program. He was riding his hand-me-down-bike to the local library- a favorite past tim and place to escape his loud brothers. Upon walking in, he noticed the new librarian. She was a old being, too old to be working. He looked at her closer. Her eyes were dark and her hands were more animal than human. Strange. Carlos thought, trying to avoid eye contact.
As he did though, he found someoe odd yet familiar. His cousin, Vanessa, was sitting at a table alone, reading a book. She was only five, but very cunning for her age. She often escaped from school whenever she was bored.
"Vanessa? What are you doing here?" He asked.
" Waiting for you." She glanced at the odd librarian. "I don't like her. She scares me."
"She's just an old bat." Carlos whispered, ruffling his younger cousin's hair, which looked much like his, only longer.
"No, hermano." She did that. They had that kind of relationship. They were close. She felt safe around him, because of all the bad that she had experienced. She had only Carlos to comfort her. There was always this excruciating pain in her deep and endless eyes. Some pain wasn't even hers to feel. Carlos could never understand her, but he tried. He really tried. I can't hear her. She mouthed. Carlos knew what she meant. She had a knack for picking up body language (or so Carlos presumed).
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The librarian eventually left and the library had to be temporarily shut down due to a freak accident. Carlos took no notice as he feel hard for a young and strapping lad. He was so consumeed in a first love spell that he never noticed that he was being watched. Someone had noticed him. Someone found him and now, they needed him. But, they would have to wait for him to mature. He was smart, but e still needed to grow.
The honeymoon phase faded and Carlos realized the emptiness that he felt earlier in the year. There was an achiness or was it yearning? He began to see things differently and he was overwhelme with the feeling of being watched. It ate at his brain. Slowly, he yearned to discover whaever it was that made him feel this way.
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Years pasesed. He had lost touch with his love life. He consumed himself in his studies, indulging in chemistry and debunking mysteries- all except for Vanessa's. The feeling of being watched never left and the emptiness never dissoled. Both held constant.
His talents and interests prevailed and he graduated early from Hollendale University. he found a good job close to where Vanessa lived. She ran away often, showing up at his work place or apartment. She just wasn't tolerant of drunk mothers. By this stage in his life, he became exceptionally paranoid. He double checked bolted doors. Curtains. No monsters under the bed. "If someone was around, I'd know." She'd always respond.
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Carlos adjusted to his life quickl. Wake up. Shove the emptiness and paranoia aside. Work. Home. And then sleep. He felt safe- so to speak. However, when Carlos woke up one morning, he felt strange. Different. He looked around; his eyes adjusting to the dimmed room. It took only a breath to realize that he was not alone.
"Shit!" Carlos scurried out of bed. "How'd you-"
"You're being transferred." The figure sounded masculine. He was wearing a helment and gas mask. Suited in a military-style uniform equipped with a bullet proof vest, he stood two feet taller. In his hand, he was holding a letter smeared with blood, although the ma himself was bloodless.
"Transferred?" He grabbed the envelope out of the man's hand. "To where?" He opened it, seeing tat the letter had been typed by a type writer. At the bottom, he noticed, was his boss' signature in what looked more like blood than ink.
"Night Vale." The man responded. "I've already packed your luggage. We leave in ten minutes." Seeing the horror and consuion on poor Carlos' face, he added "Night Vale.... You'll love it." He began to walk, but then stopped "You'll especially love the radio host."
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Carlos left withthe man. He was so distracted that he didn't even bother to ask where thistown was. He tried calling someone- anyone- but each time led to a green ooze to leak from his phone. Eventually, they came upon Night Vale. Just as they did, the man, who Carlos found worked for the Secret Sheriff, turned the radio on. He heard a smooth and velvety voice. He didn't even take in to what the man was saying. But, Carlos felt something -the emptiness- fill him inside and he fell in love instantly.