Random One Shots

Close Your Eyes and Listen - WTNV/SCP

**I'm not sure what this crossover is but I figured, why not post it here?

A Welcome to Night Vale/SCP crossover no one asked for.

You prided yourself in your abilities to investigate all things...strange.Anomalies was the term you enjoyed using.Another day at the office is what your coworkers call it.Waste of time might be one used by your family.Well, if you had any family.Still, you had a lab set up on sight [REDACTED], approximately a twenty-minute drive from your home, despite the fact that you spent more time at work. You spent day and night as a mechanic, examining anomalous objects. You weren't qualified, nor morally grey enough, to examine many of the creatures that entered your facility.So for now, you enjoyed tinkering around with strange objects, from cursed USB sticks, recordings of ancient anomalies, a mechanical torso that was seemingly someone's deity, and so on.All written down in a self-correcting notepad you had picked up in your travels.Obviously.You were quite happy with your work with [REDACTED]. The doctors you knew were all...characters. Some good, some bad, as many in life are. While you often have faced death-or-death situations, you miraculously found yourself returning to the safety of your beloved lab.Today, you were working on a side project.A void had opened in the desert, you see. Several humanoid people came stumbling out, and some standard, human-use objects fell out behind them. The people, seemingly men and women, were safe in captivity and likely to be offered a job as D-class personnel.The objects, joyous day, were all yours to examine. A flyer for a place called Big Rico's Pizza, a broken Polaroid camera, and a small, portable radio.First, you examined the flyer. While you could see that "Nobody does it like Big Rico's...Nobody", all the research you performed could not find an online advertisement that matched this particular flyer. It had no abilities, no energies...it was as likely to be someone's graphic design project as it was a legitimate flyer.Second, you had to examine the camera. Again, no abilities, no energies. As it was a Polaroid it had no memory for you to examine, and so you set it aside.But the radio. The radio had no batteries, and the digits on it were long since faded. But it had something even better.The radio had potential.You fished around your office for a pair of tattered headphones, ones that you had stoped using months ago in favour of a Google Home - if the government were going to listen to you, you may as well make it easier on them. It was common courtesy, you thought.Still, the headphones would work well for this radio, in case you needed to pick up the slightest breath, signal, or subliminal message.You powered the device up after sliding in two fresh double-A batteries, and promptly you began turning the dial.Interestingly, the radio was not picking up the usual stations that your car would. You tried 99.9, 103.4, and 105.8. Yet instead of your ears being filled with pop, French, and country respectively, you merely got static. Your brows furrowed as you began to reach the end of the selections. Surely there must be...There.In the static, a voice began to come into focus, and you quickly honed the dial-in."...our listeners seen the glowing cloud that has been moving in from the west? Well, John Peters - you know, the farmer? He saw it over the western ridge this morning. Said he would have thought it was the setting sun if it wasn't for the time of day."A deep, calm narration filled your ears as the crackling dissipated. A voice that cuts through the void and breathed life into an otherwise silent laboratory.You had a hit."Apparently the cloud glows in a variety of colours, perhaps changing from observer to observer, although all report a low whistling when it draws near."You didn't recognize the station number from anything around town. No advertisement existed - to your knowledge - regarding this strange narration - perhaps a story station?"One death has already been attributed to the Glow Cloud. But listen, it's probably nothing. If we had to shut down the town for every mysterious event that at least one death could be attributed to, we'd never have any Tim to do anything, right?"You suppressed a confused chuckle at that. Why, you weren't sure; no one else was around. You quickly pulled out your self-correcting notebook and your favourite pen and began writing a report.SCP - XXXXItem #: SCP-XXXXObject Class: UnknownSpecial Containment Procedures: UnknownDescription: SCP-XXXX takes the form of a portable AM/FM radio. Only one channel is available, reporting on the events of some anomalous town. The program is narrated by a calm male voice.The radio fell through a crack in space and time located in [REDACTED], investigated by MTFs on July 1st, 2012.Addendum XXXX-01: The town appears to be known as Night Vale.Addendum XXXX-02: The "weather" is the equivalent of a song being played.As the program came to an end, with the soothing words of "Goodnight, listeners. Goodnight," you sat back, staring at the static producing radio.What on earth was that channel picking up?And why, from that voice alone, did you want to begin praising a glowing cloud?For the night, you had no answers. And so you packed up your things and prepared to leave for home for the night.You have now spent three months attempting to understand these radio broadcasts.You've learnt that no other radio is picking up this station - only the one that fell from the void has access to any information on the town of Night Vale. There is no other record of the town in any other database in this dimension.From that, you came to the conclusion that the radio must be from the dimension this town, Night Vale, was located in. And through some force it was still able to pick up the radio waves of that dimension.You felt enthralled by the existence of this town. This town with a Glow Cloud on the PTA, with lights above the Arby's, a dog park that is too under no circumstance, be entered...all narrated by that rich, captivating voice.Your report grew longer with every broadcast.You were curious if you would be able to reverse the connection. Perhaps reach out to this other dimension.Your natural curiosity and ambition rose within you. Imagine the pay raise if you could open the door to another world! One filled to the brim with anomalies for your office to observe...to speak with that beautiful, wonderful voice.It was almost too tempting to pass up.It was now six months since you first heard the broadcast, the Voice of Night Vale. You've learned his name is Cecil, and you couldn't help but grin at that. What a nice name, for a nice voice.You were now hesitant of wheat and wheat by-products, and of a faceless man in a tan jacket.You were now in love with Cecil.Where you spent every free moment - much to Management's despair - attempting to perfect a method of communication with this other dimension, you would often pause when the broadcast would air, closing your eyes and listening to the sweet, dulcet tones that would float out of the radio, caressing you softly as though you were being slowly embraced by the sound waves.Still, much like any phone sex operator, you knew it was unlikely for the man to be as captivating as his voice made him seem. But with his calm descriptions of the horrific anomalies of his beloved town...it filled you with such raw excitement.And so, when, six months later, you were sat in front of a microphone awaiting the end of the broadcast, you couldn't help but feel utterly giddy.You listened with rapt attention to Cecil, hanging off of his every word. And as he breathed his final, familiar "Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight," you inhaled deeply, attempting to calm your nerves as you reached forward to turn on your microphone."Hello?" You questioned softly, your voice breaking with nerves and anticipation. "Hello, can anybody hear me?"There was a pause. A long pause. You were certain you were about to be met with dead air or static, when."Hello? Dana, am I still on the air? Am I meant to be hearing a voice from this?"It was there. That deep, reassuring voice was filled with pleasant confusion.You had done it. Your voice had, much like his, crossed the line between dimension."My Broken God, it worked!" You couldn't help but breathe gleefully, forgetting that the microphone was picking up everything. You quickly cleared your throat before taking a tone of professionalism. "I'm speaking on behalf of Secure, Contain, and Protect. I'm an anomalous researcher, and I've been following your broadcast for some time. Can you tell me what dimension you're located in?""Goodness, I'm technically off the air and yet I have a listener. A listener from another world, how neat!" The deep voice chuckled. "I do not think our world has a classification, though I'm sure by now you're aware I'm reporting from a town called -""Night Vale-" you responded quickly. "Yes, I'm quite fascinated with all that I've heard of your town. I've been keeping up to date with all of your broadcasts. I've come across a radio that picks up the channel, though to my knowledge no other picks up the broadcast in my world.""That's so fun!" Cecil was gleeful. He really had a listener outside of Night Vale, a dimension away. "And you managed to reverse the connection? Goodness, you must be so smart."You can't help the blush that forms at the compliment. Damn this man and his voice.Yet this was no time to be a school girl. You were a scientist, and you needed answers."Mr Cecil, I was curious if I could ask you some questions regarding your dimension."
You were frantically typing up a report, in the hopes of receiving funding from the Higher Ups. From what you've gathered, if you could have a simple voice connection between here and Night Vale, surely you could transport a body?
Preferably a living one.
But the request had to be properly documented. Management was quite used to you handing in half-assed reports, but this...this was far too important to mess up.
After a quick glance at the clock, your eyes found their way to the radio. As if by magic, the radio burst to life, and Cecil's voice floated out.
"Listeners," you heard and smiled as you continued to type up your report. "You will never believe what has occurred. Our loveable town of Night Vale has piqued the interest of another scientist. Where we were once graced with Carlos and his perfect hair, we now have the interest of a soul who exists, not in our plane of being, but one incredibly separate from ours! This person, whom I've begun to call the Melodic Voice, or perhaps the Beautiful Stranger -"
You could feel your fingers speed up, your face flushed and your heart racing.
You had to get to this town. You just had too.