A drop here, a drop there (a one-shots/snippet book)

Kevin (WtNV; vignettes)

Kevin giggled as blobs of crimson painted his hair and front, raising his palms and watching as blood dripped from skin. Then the body was dumped in front of him, and he tilted his head in consideration. It was some type of mammal this time, a warm blooded animal instead of cold, and covered in fur.

Oh! He can see a peek of its teeth! So sharp and white! They would be perfect for his collections, both of teeth and his knives.

Kevin beamed up at Doug. "Thank you!"

He can see Doug's eyes crinkle up in a smile. A pity that they all wore masks, Kevin thought that they would've looked more beautiful with a smile visible in all of its glory.

He bet their happy smiles look amazing. The only smile he sees these days is through the mirror.

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4. Kevin didn't need to eat. This desert is in a state of suspension. Nothing destroyed is ever permanently gone, nothing changed is permanently transformed, unless Kevin thoroughly take apart something and makes something else with it. It's how he was able to make buildings from stone with the help of the Doug and Alicia's army, and how Kevin didn't die from blood-loss when a careless mistake led to a giant scorpion impaling him with its tail.

So Kevin can go on days, weeks, months, on a completely empty stomach and stay alive. He had learned long ago to ignore the gnawing when he was a Strexcorp employee and they refused to let him eat until all the work is done. Sometimes it can take days before Kevin can finish everything he was told to do in between broadcasts.

So Kevin just forgot to eat at times.

Sometimes, he doesn't. Sometimes he remembered Carlos and how he kept insisting on having dinner at least twice a day, more or less regularly. When Kevin asked why, when more work can be done now that they didn't need to eat, Carlos smiled a little.

"It's just, Cecil gets upset when I forget to eat," he said quietly, something both fond and sad in his eyes. "I don't want to put all of his efforts to waste."

Kevin didn't say anything at that, other than a small, "Oh," but he no longer complained when Carlos kept dragging him from his work to eat.

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5. Cecil was Kevin's double and he had beautiful eyes. Eyes that looked a lot like Kevin's. They shared a face, with the same hair and body build. They had the same smile, too. But they were not related.

They were doubles, and Kevin was so excited when they first met. Another him meant more work being done! Why wouldn't he be excited? Unfortunately, they had to go back to their respective towns, and after exchanging fierce hugs that left matching bruises around their necks, they went home. Kevin couldn't help but think about those eyes in wistful moments.

Sometimes though, Kevin would see his reflection on the mirror or see the picture he kept on his desk, and remember, Oh. I don't have those eyes anymore.

And Kevin would smile. Because that was what you're supposed to do. Company policy.

His poor, misguided double. Cecil never did listen when Kevin tried to make him see the glorious light of the Smiling God. It reminded him of...himself, back in the old days.

Oh, well.

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6. Months passed in Night Vale. Years, in this desert that is like and unlike the desert outside of that town. Kevin didn't know how long it was since dear Carlos left, it was hard to keep track.

The buildings he made remained empty and devoid of life as Kevin walked through the empty town.

Town. Can this shell even be called a town?

Can he even be called a Voice?

What was a Voice without a town?

These thoughts haunted him, followed his waking moments and swam through the undercurrents of his dreams. He rarely felt anything, even as an employee of Strexcorp, but happiness was an abundant and mandatory thing in pain of reeducation or termination back then. Now, with no Stexcorp in sight and no employers or fellow employees to be happy with and for, Kevin felt even more empty than usual.

Rather, he always felt mostly empty, but now he had nothing to fill it with.

The masked army are nomadic, so their visits, while appreciated, was rare. How long had he been here? he wondered to himself. Where are you? Please... he would plead to the endless sands, waiting for a sign or a vision from his god.

Sometimes he would climb on top of the lighthouse or as high as he can on top of the mountain, head tilted back and waiting. Praying.

For the longest time he received no answer, until one day.

Kevin was re-exploring one of the nearby canyons, the one where a nest of giant scorpions used to live before Kevin extracted their beautiful shells (gleefully and with extreme prejudice, he might add), after his temporary death. It was there that he was met with two pairs of empty eye sockets blinking at him from above a fresh scorpion corpse, and a grin split his face in a gleeful barring of teeth.

And they smiled back a beautiful smile.

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7. More and more people found their way in his shell of a town. More and more the shell was filled into less of a shell, until Kevin can sit in his desk and know that when he speaks, a town is listening.