Holidays in Night Vale [Welcome to Night Vale]

Chapter Five

Cecil's POV

Time seems to stand still, nothing happening. The snow fluttering to the ground is slow, and I watch individual flakes trying to take my mind off of the events that have occurred and are happening around me.

Finally, eventually, I hear sirens and look up eagerly, witnessing a small ambulance driving up the icy roads.

Paramedics jump out of the vehicle, heading towards me. They are fuzzy, too, their faces shadowed.

I climb back out of the car slowly with some help from them. The two then work to pry Carlos out, pulling forcefully but cautiously. I see him move and they lift him out, his head lolling from side to side.

They lay him carefully on the ground without a word, heading to get a stretcher.

I am standing still unable to move to breathe. The crowd that had gathered has somewhat dissipated - it is significantly smaller now. Some look on with sympathy, some with concern.

Eventually I kneel in the snow next to Carlos's body. Carlos, perfectly imperfect Carlos, being taken away. The hospital in Night Vale is small, and I hope they'll be able to help him.

I hear crunching footsteps and know that the paramedics are coming to take him away. I fight the urge to lurch forward to cover him, but I stumble backwards and let them through.

Watching them take Carlos is painstakingly difficult. It's almost as if the links, the small strings connecting him to me are breaking one by one.

My knees are weak and I am incredibly light-headed and dizzy, but I stand. The ambulance starts to drive away and I walk towards it, rounding corners as the flashing lights and blaring sirens get farther and farther away.

The ambulance rounds a corner and disappears from my sight. I peer at my surroundings, focusing my eyes. I'm in a sort of alleyway with some trash cans and floating animal carcasses. My concern briefly changes to fury and I run to the nearest trash can, swinging my leg towards it.

It connects and my leg shoots up in pain but I ignore it, my tattoos flashing. Then I start walking back to the radio station, wanting to get out of the decreasing weather.

My mind is wandering, blank, as I make my way to the station. I just try to think of my next broadcast or what I need to buy at the store.

The station's windows have been frosted over, little ice crystals creeping up the glass. Mistletoe hangs in the doorway and the festive decorations make me feel even worse.

I head into my booth and pick up the small microphone on the desk, turning it in my hand.

The phone in the station rings abruptly and I tense, jumping at the sound. I walk tentatively to the telephone and pick it up, holding it gingerly in between my thumb and first finger.

"H-hello?" I stutter.

"Cecil Gershwin Palmer?" a feminine voice asks.

"Yes," I state, straightening up a bit as if they can see me.

"I'm calling regarding Carlos. You are listed as his emergency contact on record." the voice acknowledges.

I nod, forgetting that they cannot see me, and mumble, "Mm-hm."

A sigh is heard through the phone and my heart races a bit faster, gasping, but they reassure, "No, no, nothing bad. It's impossible to reach anybody in this storm."

"What is it?" I demand. My voice cracks and wavers a bit as I say it, sounding much less powerful than I had planned.

"I just wanted to let you know that he's starting to wake up."