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High excursionists. It's me Narri.
I know, I said. We had

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gone down the last twisted path before
the Christmas special, but Caroline came up

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with one more for us tonight,
on the eve of the New Year.

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We usually look forward to new beginnings, or at least putting the old year

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behind us. But what would happen
if we couldn't do that? What would

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happen if the new year filled us
with dread instead of with hope. Let's

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follow Donovan Carlyle and see why New
Year's Eve is his least favorite holiday.

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Join me now for a midnight walk. Welcome to Endo the night. I'm

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Narri, your guide on today's excursion
down a twisted path. Be careful not

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to get lost. Be it dark
or light, it's easy to lose your

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way. Are you ready, then
let's begin a midnight walk Inhaling. The

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cold, crisp air of early winter
heightened his senses. Fresh snow crunched beneath

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his boots. As Donovan Carlyle paused
to take in the beauty of the night,

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snowflakes fell like ticker tape, but
he enjoyed the placid stillness over any

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ruckous party. The holiday might bring
peace and solitude suited him nicely, and

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moments such as these were the ones
he intended to commit to memory. He

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hated this time of year, more
so than those who simply complained about the

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cold or the drudgery of shoveling snow. Donovan wished he had such petty reasons

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to dread nights like this. The
moonlight hitting the snow on the hillsides cast

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a blue glow. The moon peeked
in and out of the clouds that softly

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dropped another round of light snow on
the area. Adding to the view were

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cedar trees that stood like sentries looking
over the majesty of the landscape. Donovan

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knew he must remember this scene.
Nothing stays the same for long. Tomorrow

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the world might not look like this
at all. Tomorrow I might view the

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world a little differently. That's the
magic of new days. That was a

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lesson he'd learned the hard way,
and he learned it many times in a

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variety of ways. Nothing stayed the
same, and no day is exactly the

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same as the next. Sometimes he
kicked himself for not understanding that earlier,

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but that was part of the burden
of youth. One must find out through

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trial and error. As he walked
through the dark evening with snowflakes swirling around

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him in the gentle breeze, his
loneliness weighed heavily upon him. He'd always

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hoped he would have some one he
could walk hand in hand with on nights

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like this. Now Donovan had given
up on the thought of finding true love.

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It's not in the cards for you, Donovan. You had your chance,

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but you didn't take it, and
now you must carry on and make

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the most of every moment. He
stopped and looked up at the sky.

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The snow rained down on him,
and it reminded him of how space looked

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on television shows where the spacecraft hit
warp drive. He could imagine himself flying

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upward, and the flakes were streaks
of stars whizzing past him as he traveled

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to the heavens. He continued plodding
through the snow, taking occasional breaks to

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view the beauty of the night.
This was a special night, and he

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wanted to remember the majesty of the
world. Some day he might need a

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memory like this to give him hope
that goodness was just around the corner.

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Donovan shook his head, remember or
not this night would change him, but

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he did his best to only dwell
on the present, live in the moment.

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He looked at the time. Yes, it was becoming late and he

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still had a long walk ahead of
him. The blue of the snow,

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however, reminded him of the night
when he'd held hands with the woman he

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loved, Lilah Reddington, and they'd
watch the moon dip in and out of

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the clouds. He loved her,
so he still loved her, so that

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night he gathered the courage to tell
her how he felt. He'd never forget

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the look on her face. Donovan's
cheeks turned a deep shade of pink as

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a sense of embarrassment washed over him. Even after all these years, Oh

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Donovan, you can't be serious.
There's no way I can return your love.

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Even if I felt the same way
toward you. I could never marry

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any one who couldn't give me a
future. I see no future with you.

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You can't hold down a job,
and you have bouts of depression that

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cripple you for weeks. I can't
live like that. I won't live like

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that. I want stability, and
each time I start to believe that I

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can count on you, you crumble
before me like ashes. Maybe she was

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right. Perhaps I was selfish for
expecting her to feel the same, or

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to risk her opportunities for someone like
me. She deserved better. He tired,

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and the weight of his snow boots
became cumbersome. In spots where the

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snow was deep, he'd sunk in
to his knees, and snow had slipped

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inside his boots from the top.
His feet were wet and cold, and

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he wondered how long it took for
frostbite to take hold. He winced he'd

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seen photos of people whose fingers and
toes had frozen black and fragile. The

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appendages served no useful purpose now,
and the injured people had to face a

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life of deformity. No, I
can't think about that. My feet have

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become so cold though that I can't
feel anything except a tingling ache. Everything

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will be different soon, this will
be no more than a memory, and

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I can't concentrate on the discomfort.
I wish, I wish I could close

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my eyes and wake up in my
bed. But I know this isn't a

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dream. It's all real. Few
animals were about at this time of night.

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He heard the hooting of an owl, and he saw a fox scamper

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through a pasture in search of whatever
he could find to eat. On a

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night like this, in the stillness
of the night, he heard every sound

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but little stirred at this hour.
As he walked, his mind crept back

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to regrets that he'd held. He
realized that he had not used his time

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wisely, and he pledged to do
better. He didn't want to make the

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same mistakes over and over. Regret
was a terrible burden to carry, and

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the thought of remaining stuck in old
habits frightened him. The woods beside him

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crashed as he stumbled upon two deer
that had betted down for the night at

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the edge of the tree line.
The sudden noise caused Donovan to jump,

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and then he laughed at himself for
being so on edge. Lighten up.

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You can't let a few deer throw
you into a heart attack. He listened

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to the sound of breaking twigs that
grew fainter as the deer ran farther over

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away from him. He felt a
twinge of guilt for putting such a fright

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into two forest animals. He had
no interest or intention of harming them.

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They don't know that. Though Donovan
knew what it was like to be frightened,

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he knew tonight that he should be
frightened once more. But he'd reached

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the point of accepting his fate.
They will find me no matter where I

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go, So I wanted to be
out here tonight, in the tranquility of

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the woods. He looked at his
watch one minute to midnight. He heard

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no sound, but he looked upward
and saw a bright light shining through the

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clouds. The snowflakes were illuminated by
the glow that now surrounded Donovan. He

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stood motionless at first, clenching his
eyes shut, but then he opened them.

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I want to remember the beauty of
this snowfall. I want to hold

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on to this memory. I don't
want this night to only fill my nightmares.

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At the stroke of midnight, he
felt himself lifted higher and higher into

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the air. It was time for
his appointment, the Grand Science Experiment he

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became part of when he was just
a boy. The first time they visited

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him was when he was five.
He heard his parents and their friends singing

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ald lang Syne, and the light
beamed through his bedroom window. He tried

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to scream, but no sound came
out. The wide eyed aliens with sickly

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pale skin, floated him through his
open window and pulled him into the night

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sky. The experiments left him weak
and in pain, as they did every

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year when New Year's Day arrived for
thirty four years. He endured the abductions

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and experiments, and he knew what
awaited him. As the light pulled him

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towards the craft as others cheered and
celebrated elsewhere, his soul screamed for someone

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to rescue him. Yes, New
Year's Eve was Donovan car Carlyle's least favorite

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holiday. Thank you for joining me
for this episode of the Into the Night

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Anthology podcast. Written by Caroline Giamanco, narrated by Nari Quak, Theme music

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by Nico Rodriguez, all other original
music, sound design and editing by Omenhawk

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Studios. You can find our links
in the show notes. Into the Night

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is on your favorite podcatcher, so
make sure to like, subscribe and leave

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a five star review to help other
excursionists to join us. I'll see you

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next time, and remember, whether
in the shadows or in the daylight,

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all twisted paths lead you into the
night. Into the Night Anthology is a

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Creative Typo Entertainment Production,