Authors Note: this is my first Night Stalker Fan Fic. And it take place after the first Night Stalker movie. But the only difference is instead of Making Gail leave town she is found dead. And he hasn't been run out of Las Vegas yet. Kind of A/U, I guess. And I misspelled a few names. my Spell Checker died and for the life of me I couldn't remember how to spell.
Carl Kolchak stood outside the morgue. His shoulders shook. His legs felt like rubber as he walked up the stairs leading to the front door. He blindly walked up to the service desk. A plump man of about 50 was sitting behind the desk. He looked up at him. "Can I help you?" Carl swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and his voice slightly cracked. "I'm…Carl Kol…Kolchak. I'm here to identify a bo…a body that was brought in."
He was led straight back to the hold chamber. Lines of slabs lined the walls. A Gurney was pulled out and the outline of a young woman was evident under the sheets. The corner sensed Kolchak's apprehension. "Are you sure about this Carl?" Frank, an old friend of his, asked.
He numbly nodded. A million thoughts were racing through his mind. It might not be her…it couldn't be…It's some other woman. Yeah they just got em confused.
Frank pulled back the sheet to her neck. Carl Kolchak stared for a second then whirled around and vomited. Frank ran around the gurney to Carl's side and held the shaking shoulders. "I'm sorry."
After a few minutes and a quick clean up by the mid-day shift janitor, Frank explained how Gail was killed. "She had been shot multiple times. Up close with an semi-Automatic. There were 20 bullets found mostly in her skull cavity."
Carl Kolchak left the morgue and went to his apartment. He sat on his bed staring at the wall. The image of Gail's crushed face kept racing through his mind. Who it was they even shot her through the eyes! She was almost unrecognizable.
He laid on the bed thinking about the last time he saw her alive. They had kissed passionately and he had sorta proposed to her. Gail had seemed so happy. He was happy because he though they were going to print his story. Gail seemed surprised when he said they should get married.
"We…were going to get…Married." He choked out, then the tears started. They began slowly at first in a few seconds tears were streaming down his cheeks. His head fell forward into his hands and he sobbed noisily.
A millions images suddenly swam into his mind. Them making love, sitting on the beach, scolding him when he lost his temper. She was the only one in the world who knew what he knew and believed him. He not only lost his Lover but also his best friend.
After the sobs subsided he felt anger and rage boil in his veins. Did someone kill Gail because she knew too much? They were afraid she'd talk? But who!
It didn't make sense somebody had to kill her because of something surrounding the Sorkenzy case. It was no random act of violence. Not of her things were taken from her.
Kolchak was back at the morgue. He stood over the gurney. Her small frame was still covered up. He stared down at the sheet, unable to believe that that was Gail under there. He placed one hand on the side of the gurney. "I'm sorry babe. So sor…sorry.." His voice began to crack again.
Suddenly the sheet to began to rise slowly as if air was moving under the sheet. Gail suddenly at up, knocking the sheet from her nude, bruised body. Carl fell back in surprise, landing hard on the ground. Gail swung her legs over the side and stood. She "looked" down at him. Her head turned in his direction. But her eyes had been shot out so blood was running in rivulets down her cheeks, dripping onto the floor.
"Baby?" He managed to croak out. He scooted back, still sitting on the floor. He cried out as she pointed at him and opened her mouth. Black blood poured from her mouth like a river, splashing onto the floor.
The reporter was backed into a wall as the dead woman kept creeping toward him. Her arms now outstretched toward her former lover. She bent down and wrapped her cold hands around his throat and began to squeeze.
Her voice sounded as if it came from the next room. A soft, yet coarse sounding whisper. The voice made shivers go up his spine. "Your Fault….Your Fault…Your Fault."
She squeezed tighter causing stars to from in his vision. The voice kept repeating "Your Fault" over and over. He could still hear her voice over the blood rushing in his ears. "Your Fault…you let them kill me…Your Fault"
His thoughts began jumbling together. My God, she's right. He let her die. It was all his fault. If he had just listened to the others and convinced Gail to quit her job, she would be alive…and married. He was sorry. So sorry. He wanted to be married to her. A nice big house and kids.
The hands became even tighter. He looked into Gail's face and the blood was gone but tears ran rampant down her cheeks. "Let me die…Your Fault…let me die."
Kolchak awoke with a scream. His own hands were around his throat. He held his throat in a death crush. Shakily he let go and held his hands up, staring at them as if they were going to attack him. The sobs started again.
"Goddamn…It was my fault…all my fault." He curled up on the ragged mattress and cried.
The next few weeks Kolchak sat on his bed, staring at the wall. The first few days were spent sitting and going to the bathroom. After a week and a half of not eating and only drinking 101 proof Wild Turkey, he had not needed to use the rest room. Instead he sat on the bed, staring at the wall with the whiskey bottle sitting on the night stand.
And not sleeping was also getting next to him. His eyes had sunken in, his skin had taken on a yellowish hue. Probably from Alcohol poisoning, but he didn't care. He was beginning to look like a zombie.
Vinchenzo called and called but Carl wouldn't answer the phone. He just let it ring. He was Probably calling to tell him he was fired.
About the fourth week, Kolchak barely registered the noise at the door. The knocking became louder. He looked at the door and rolled back over, face down on the bed. Fuck! Just go away!
His alcohol affected brain thought he heard two muffled voices. The knocking continued for at least ten more minutes. He drifted in and out of Consciousness.
Kolchak felt hands roughly grabbing his arms. Whoever it was turned him over. Vinchenzo looked down at him with concerned eyes.
"Good God! Carl can you hear me?" Kolchak kept his eyes closed. He cracked one eye open and then re closed it. He coughed.
"Go...way." Suddenly the body went lax, his head lolling to the side. His breathing became almost unrecognizable.
The officer who broke the latch came up from beside the bed, producing about six whiskey bottles. Five of them were empty. The last one was nearly empty. "It looks like Alcohol poisoning."
Vinchenzo rubbed one hand over his face. "Okay, call an Ambulance. I'll take care of everything."