The vrykolakas: A Kolchak, the Night Stalker story. As always the characters and background for this show are the properties of its creators. A mysterious series of deaths shows Carl that there is more then one type of vampire in the world. Rated T for depiction of deaths and language.
Carl Kolchak sat at his desk for a long while considering how to start writing this story. Most of the staff had left fro the day. For this had been a strange one. Even by Carl's standards. But having thought that he started to type. It began like this;
Friday Oct 19.1968. 6:30 pm. A Mr. William Prosser, age 55 was sitting in his living room watching the evening news when there was a knock at his door. He got up to answer it. When he opened the door there was no one at the door, just an old man standing in the distance. The old man stared at Prosser. "Who the hell are you?" witnesses statements would later say that Prosser shouted at the man.
The old man stared at Prosser and called his name. "William Prosser?" the man asked.
"Yeah!" Prosser barked "Now who in the piss hell are you?" The man just walked away. Prosser growled some more curses and went back inside his apartment.
The next morning, a certain Delilah Sheppard from the Heaven on Earth massage company. had arrived for Mr. Prosser's usual Saturday session. She found that the door was open. Delilah walked in "Willie?" she called "Willie, don't play hide and seek with me. You know I'll charge double if I have to spank you naughty boy." She walked into the living room. "There you are you." she never finished speaking. She started screaming as she saw Prosser's body in the chair.
12:30 pm. I was at the office planning on an early exit for the day when; "Kolchak!" the quiet voice of Anthony Vincenzo, chief editor of the Chicago Tribune blasted through the office like an air raid siren.
Kolchak glared at Vincenzo. "I'm sitting right hear, Tony!" he said "Trying to make me go deaf?"
"There's a stiff out in the suburbs; 45th and Rosemont. Go check it out, and try not to take the whole day doing it." Vincenzo growled
All Carl could do was make a face at the back of the retreating Vincenzo as he grabbed his equipment and headed for the door.
It was an hour long drive to this part of Chicago. By the time I got there the police and the coroner were there. The typical rubber neckers were there as well. As I got out of my car and walked up. My old friend Capt. Sarah Branch from Homicide was waiting.
She glared at me "Fool, what are you doing here?"
"It's good to see you too, Captain." Gesturing to the house. "So what do we have here?" As Kolchak asked the question the morgue attendants were bringing out the body of the late Mr. Prosser. The lake wind blew the sheet that covered the body was moved and Kolchak saw a shriveled up corpse...
"He looks like a mummy." He observed "How long had he been dead, a few months?"
"The M.E. hasn't said yet." Branch said. "But the last people who saw him alive was yesterday afternoon. And he was 260 pounds then." Then Branch went back to her true form, which was to say, mean.
"Now get out of here, Creep!" she barked.
Kolchak walked back to his car, watching the body being loaded with a great deal of interest.
To be continued.