"So what was your name again?" Jeremy asked, pulling the woman 
towards him. "Violet, hot stuff." She said, winking at Jeremy as she 
did. Jeremy smiled and then turned to the woman on his left. "And 
your name sweet thing?" he said, pulling her closer to him. 


"Civillian! Wake up immediately!" She said in a robotic, British male 
sounding voice. 


"Uh...1...what?" Jeremy said now confused. 


"| think you better wake up Jeremy!" a voice said from behind him. 
Jeremy turned to face the voice. A life-size Vault Boy was standing 
in front of him, somehow appearing two dimensional. Vault boy gave 
Jeremy a thumbs up and a wink. 


Jeremy realised what was happening. "Oh god no, it's another 
dream isn't it? Can't | just stay for a bit longer? Please?" 


Jeremy slowly opened his eyes to see a Mister handy floating above 
him. 


"Civilian! You are to wake up and follow me immediately!" It said 
again, staring at Jeremy with its golden robotic eyes. 


Jeremy looked around the room he was in. It was some sort of 
medical wing. He noticed that he had a Rad-away drip attached to 
his arm and various used Stimpaks were scattered on a table next to 
him. He could not see Lucy anywhere. 


"Where's Lucy?" He asked becoming concerned. 


"Ah! Yes! Your accomplice! Follow me and | will take you to her!" 
The robot practically shouted at Jeremy. 


Jeremy carefully removed the Rad-away drip out of his arm. Not 
knowing where he was or what was going on, Jeremy followed the 
robot out of the room...oh and also, this is Jeremy, he trusts almost 
everything that can speak. They walked down a corridor, not like the 
corridors they had been walking down before, these ones appeared 
clean, new, white. The doors were made of wood, clean wood. The 


robot then led Jeremy through one of the doors into a room with a 
long table at one end, a TV screen above the table and only a few 
dim lights illuminating the room and also illuminating Lucy who was 
sat on a chair, facing the table. 


"You took your time." Lucy said to Jeremy, looking relieved. 


"| was just winning at blackjack and talking to this lovely lady called 
Violet." 


Lucy's face changed to one of confusion. "What?" 


The screen above the desk then flickered on. A face appeared of a 
woman, about 30-35 years of age with short red hair, small lips and 
wearing a grey suit. The face remained motionless as words began 
coming from concealed speakers. 


"Welcome civilians to Vault 25. | imagine you have questions. 
Questions as to why you are here, where here is and what 
happened down in the Vault. All of these questions are perfectly 
normal and you are entitled to ask them. The answers however you 
are not entitled to receive. Normally, Protocols say that in the event 
of civilians discovering this Vault, the civilians must be terminated to 
keep the secrets of this Vault safe. This is why there are currently 
two sentry guns pointed at your heads." 


Both Lucy and Jeremy looked round the room. They were able to 
make out the shape of two sentry guns in the dark corners of the 
room in front of them. The voice began to speak again. 


"However, | have watched the end of civilisation, | have watched the 
Human Race descend into chaos and decay, | have watched the 
violent and brutal nature of humanity without leadership. All of this 
however, is nothing compared to what is in this facility. Seeing my 
own race die as this Vault keeps these monstrosities alive has given 
more some sort of...compassion. My fellow co-workers would 
disagree with what I'm about to do. Fortunately for you, they are not 
here." 


"| don't understand, where are we?" Jeremy asked the voice. 


"As | said, the answers you are not entitled to. The answers you 
wish to seek will not help you understand any more than simply not 
telling you. And this is what you must do. You must not tell anyone 
about this place. Forget you came here, forget what you saw, 
continue with your lives as so many civilians before you have. Keep 
this place a secret or we will for you. Do you understand?" 


"| understand but sooner or later more than one or two people will 
find this place. If the NCR or Legion find this Vault, they will find out 
what's happening here." Lucy said back to the voice, trying to get 
her point across. 


"And when that day arrives, | hope they're ready to deal with the 
consequences. Now if there are no more questions, the door to your 
right will lead out of here and back into the wasteland. | have given 
you the supplies | can spare. It should be enough to get you to New 
Vegas." 


"How did you know we were going to New Vegas?" Jeremy asked 
as he stood up. 


"Why else would you be all the way out here? Follow the road to the 
west. You'll Know when you're near." 


"Thank you. Before we go however...who are you?" Lucy asked the 
voice. 


There was a pause before the voice began to speak again. "| was 
known as O5-6. My real name, is something that was lost a long 
time ago." 


The screen then cut off and the speakers went silent. Lucy and 
Jeremy looked at each other as they made their way through the 
door. As they left the Vault, the heavy, metallic door of Vault 25 
rolled into the position it was originally in. Lucy and Jeremy then 
carried on walking along the road they had been before. 


"So...when will we be there?" Jeremy asked Lucy, not wishing to go 
against what they had agreed with O5-6. 


"| don't know Jeremy...and no | won't know in another ten minutes 


either...or the ten minutes after that." 


The two carried on walking through the wasteland to the city of 
hopes and dreams they had heard about. As they made their way 
along the road, an eyebot followed them. An eyebot painted white 
with the same mysterious logo they had seen before painted on it. 
While the voice had told them that it would let them go, it had not 
told them that they would forever be under the watch of the 
Foundation, forever being watched to make sure they'd keep the 
Foundation a secret. 


The Foundation was like war, it followed humanity wherever it went, 
it brought out the best and worst in humanity, helped shape the 
world around it. And war... 


War never changes. 


Belation In the Evening 


Welcome to NEXUS-08. Welcome to Night Vale. 


Good evening, Night Vale: this is Lee Baker filling in for Cecil, and 
this is Night Vale at Night. It is currently nine o’clock PM, and the 
temperature outside is seventy-three degrees. It has been 
seventeen days since the last radioactive sludge-being crawled from 
the sewers. 


Now, you're probably wondering where Cecil is. He had to call in 
sick tonight, so | got called in. | apologize for any hiccups along the 
way, but I’ve got all the notes he left for me right here. 


Now to start things off, today’s news. 


Meg of Meg’s Good Eatin’ was arrested by the sheriff's secret police 
this afternoon, after punching a visiting tourist in the face. According 
to the victim, the attack was provoked only by his asking of “You 
know there are mysterious lights above the diner, right?” When 
questioned, Meg gave the statement “You can only be asked the 
same damn question so many times.” 


The sheriff has given us assurance that Meg will be back making her 
famous Heart Attack on a Plate soon enough, and would like to 
remind everyone that all flying saucers and mysterious lights seen 
over the next few weeks are no cause for alarm. It is their mating 
season, and they will be moving on to their migration grounds by the 
end of the month. 


The sheriff's office would also like to remind all citizens to be on the 
lookout for the man and woman responsible for hijacking and 
stealing the car of Mr. Everett Hoover. The car is a blue 1972 Ford 
Pinto, and the carjackers are known to be a blonde-haired woman 
wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and middle-eastern man wearing a 


red baseball cap, both in their thirties. According to Mr. Hoover, the 
pair, upon violently tossing Mr. Hoover out of his vehicle, proclaimed 
that they needed to borrow his car, on account that the chupacabra 
messiah had been kidnapped, and they needed to get her back. 


Please do not feed the chupacabras, and ignore all of their attempts 
at proselytizing. 


In addition, if you happen to be driving out late at night and see a 
police car, please make sure to properly identify it as belonging to 
the sheriff's secret police. If the car is on fire, it is most likely a 
demon cop rather than the sheriff's secret police. If the police car is 
on fire, and you hear unexplained expletives coming from your radio, 
| advise speeding up. You might be able to outrun him. 


Popular self-help book Star Signals has been pulled from the 
shelves of the Night Vale Community Library and Cthulhu Corner 
Books, due to complaints by readers of “eldritch visions of the 
maddening, unfathomable beyond”. No word has been given as to 
when the book will be re-released. 


Now, onto our community calendar... 


Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting is in town through 
tomorrow, so if you haven’t been able to get to one of the showings, 
you've only got a few shows left until they pack up and head off to 
parts unknown. 


Friday night is the annual Rocky Horror Picture Show — Spleen 
Eaters from Venus double feature in the Night Vale Memorial Dog 
Park, put on by the Alexylva Community College at Night Vale Movie 
Club. Admission and refreshments are free, but donations to the 
Dog Park and the Movie Club are appreciated. 


This Saturday is the First Divided Fifthist Church’s Annual Pancake 
Buffet, from ten in the morning until seven in the evening. A raffle 
will be held after the dinner, and door prizes will be given out 
throughout the day. Tickets are seven dollars for adults and three 
dollars for children under 12. Regular, buckwheat, and the First 
Divided’s famous bonemeal pancakes will be served. 


Now our biggest story. 


Night Vale was thrown into a hubbub this morning, when a 
mysterious man arrived with a U-Haul, and took up residence in the 
abandoned loft next to Big Rocco’s Pizza. The man, claiming to be a 
scientist, unloaded over two dozen crates with unknown contents, 
and declined to comment as to his purpose here in Night Vale. He 
was later seen at Big Rocco’s with a half-dozen other individuals 
wearing labcoats. According to Frankie, of Frankie’s Bar and Grill, 
the betting pool was five to one in favor of meth house, seven to one 
for Russian prostitution ring, and ten to one for interdimensional 
meth-prostitute ring. 

However, these suspicions were laid somewhat to rest during a town 
meeting called in the afternoon by the mysterious visitor, who 
claimed his name was Carlos. 


[shuffling of papers] 


|, uh, | can’t seem to find his last name written down anywhere. Just 
Carlos. And uh, the minutes are very vague...the majority of what | 
have here is just...descriptions of Carlos No-Name-Given. Just 
really long descriptions of Carlos. 


“He has a square jaw and teeth like a military cemetery...perfect and 
beautiful hair... perfect and beautiful coat”...It just goes on like this 
through the entire thing. [Shuffling of papers] Just notes and notes 
and notes... 


[pause] 


“He grinned, and everything about him was perfect, and | fell in love 
instantly.” 


This is in the notes, ladies and gentlemen, and not in the margins, 
either. As far as | can tell, he was actually planning on saying this, 
on live radio. If he wasn’t, | might have just ruined his reputation, 
so...yeah. 


| really don’t know what to say. It’s just pages of this...he keeps 
repeating “His hair is perfect”, over and over and over again...Oh... 
he drew art. 


SCP-614 Download Logs: 
Researcher Name: Dr. Opus 


Date that site was accessed: 02/20/2011 

Date entered into site: / /203 

Search Terms: scp 

File(s) Downloaded: wikileaks-scp-203 72 


Description: The entire collection of Foundation documents, as 
uploaded by the "WikiLeaks" organization. Some anomalies and 
inconsistencies with current documents were found, such as the 
inclusion of previously unknown SCP-_, the listing of SCPs_, 
and as decommissioned, and [DATA EXPUNGED] of SCP- 
Further research into these "leaked" files is being done, and further 
security precautions have been taken to try to prevent this security 
breach. 


3 


Dr. Opus: Requesting that SCP-614's object class be upgraded to 
Euclid, in light of its internet connection, the potential for public 
exposure, the frequently-changing contents of the website, and the 
possibility of the appearance of more hazardous files. 


O5- : Class change approved. 


« SCP-613 | SCP-614 | SCP-615 » 


Okay... 


From what | can make out of the actual meeting, events of note 
include Old Woman Josie’s corn muffins, and Carlos No-Name- 
Given talking about studying the town with his scientist friends. | 
can’t seem to find anything on what he plans on studying, or what 
kind of scientist he is, but there is mention that the vaguely 
menacing paragovernmental agents were back in town, which is a 
something of a relief. 


That’s all | have on that, ladies and gentlemen. 

[Pause, shuffling of papers, faint throat-clearing] 

I’m going to be honest, I’m concerned. Cecil seems to be getting a 
bit stressed with work. Happens to everyone, of course. A vacation 
might do him some good. 


[Pause] 


You know, this radio station can get a bit lonely at night. I’m the only 
one here for the show, and the building is big and old. The 
floorboards creak, and the walls groan, and the insulation is poor so 
the wind howls in the stairwell. Gives it some personality, but I'ma 
sucker for old stuff like this. 


And now, the weather. 


Bbi Bce cropute, u A 6yzy eCcTb 
npax UW TaHWeBaTb Hag 
MepTBbIM MUpoM. 


Gah! Sorry, sorry, hit the wrong dial by mistake. 
(Other Side, Pendulum) 


[Radio silence for two minutes ten seconds, followed by the sound of 
the studio door being thrown open with significant force and heavy, 


panicked breathing] 
Ladies and gentlemen...ladies and gentlemen there is... 
[Breathing slows] 


Ladies and gentlemen...during the break, | went down to the 
restroom. There is a shrine, in the mens’ restroom. Right there on 
the toilet. There’s a photo of Carlos No-Name-Given, and candles, 
and human skulls, and jackalopes hung from the ceiling by their own 
intestines, and the walls are covered in the words “perfect hair’, just 
scribbled down on top of each other. 


[Pause] 


And...There’s a blow-up doll with a wig glued to it and “Carlos” 
written across the chest in permanent marker, and someone has 
been doing horrible, horrible things to it. 


Ladies and gentlemen, | am afraid that Cecil has gone dangerously 
mad. Please stay in your homes until the state police get here. Keep 
your doors locked and the lights off. Do not answer the door, even 
for your neighbors and the sheriff's secret police. Wait until the state 
police arrive give the all-clear. 


[Door opens, indistinct male voice speaks. ] 


L-ladies and gentlemen, Carlos No-Name-Given is in the studio with 
me. His hair is perfect. | don’t mean that in some sort of fawning 
homoerotic sense, | mean his hair is /iterally perfect...and...and he’s 
wearing Cecil’s face as a jock strap...oh god Cecil's face is still 
moving. 


[Indistinct male voice] 
No, | wasn’t criticizing your fashion sense. It’s very...Phlegthon-chic. 
[Indistinct male voice] 


Oh...really? That so?...Well okay, | guess. Just... just hold on, let 
me get my stuff... 


[Five gunshots are heard. After a short pause, two more are heard. 
After a second pause, three more are heard, followed by the sound 
of the gun reloading] 


[pause] 

Oh fuck... 

[The chirping of baby birds can be heard echoing in the room.] 
Oh fuck! 

[Three more gunshots. ]