Ghost Town fic, chapter 3/8
Title: The Secret of Moonlit Gulch
Fandom: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?/Kolchak: the Night Stalker
Main Characters: The Informant, the Messenger, The Techie, the Inspector, Double Trouble, Carl Kolchak, Tony Vincenzo
Supporting Characters: Various OCs
Characters Featured in this Chapter: Carl Kolchak, Tony Vincenzo, Informant-tachi, Double Trouble
Status: In progress; chapter 3 of 8 completed
Rating: PG
Summary: Part of the Endless Days of Summer project. The ACME agents head to Arizona to head off Double Trouble, but soon find themselves in a mysterious town that only seems to appear by moonlight. Meanwhile, Carl Kolchak and Tony Vincenzo end up stranded in Arizona after their flight to Chicago is canceled and end up at the same odd town.
In this chapter: The newsmen and the detectives start their search as Double Trouble start sneaking around, as well... but something is also searching for them.
Will be posted to paranormal25 when complete.
Chapter 3: Now You See Him, Now You Don't
***********************************
Tony massaged the bridge of his nose as the Messenger dared to take a look under the bed to see if the skeleton had somehow hidden itself there.
“Nope, no bones here,” he said.
The Informant gulped.
“Now what?” he asked. “You mean we’ve got this thing walking around the hotel on top of the ghost?”
“Wait just a second,” Tony said. “You mean you believe all this?”
“Well, it is a bit of a stretch,” the Messenger admitted. “But seeing as though we’ve issued a number of arrest warrants for an alien, dealt with a banshee in San Francisco, and chased down a whole bunch of Phantom Riders in Texas, I guess we can allow for some willing suspension of disbelief.”
They don’t mind me sneaking around, and they’re willing to believe me? Carl wondered. Why couldn’t they be based in Chicago?
Tony just stared at them before resigning himself to the fact that this was going to launch into a full-fledged investigation, and that he was going to be a part of it.
“Okay…” said the Techie, watching the direction the odd skeleton footprints were heading. “Apparently, whoever or whatever he was, he headed right to…” He trailed off, staring at the blank wall. “He went right through the wall!”
“Maybe the bones were really the ghost?” the Informant asked Carl.
The reporter shook his head.
“No; they were solid. The chain of the key was caught on his fingers, after all. Speaking of which…” He pulled out the key he had taken. “Wonder where this goes? It’s not the room key…”
“How do you know?” Tony asked, his eyebrows arched.
“Because it isn’t at all like any of the keys to our rooms,” Carl pointed out. He demonstrated to prove his point, and the key did not budge in the lock. But then he glanced out into the hallway and frowned. “Uh-oh… I think those twin thieves are taking a midnight stroll out there.”
“What…?” the Inspector said, flatly. He looked furious with himself for leaving his post, and now glared daggers into the hallway just in time to see the twins heading down the stairs to the main floor. “Oh, great. Looks like they’re heading down to the hotel safe for a little late-night looting.”
“Then we need to be there to catch them in the act,” the Techie said, heading away from the wall to join the others.
“But what about Mr. Stalfos?” the Messenger asked, indicating the footprints.
“I’ll look for him,” Carl volunteered.
“Need a hand?” the Informant offered. “Not for nothing, but you really don’t want to be looking for this sort of thing alone.”
“I’m used to it,” the reporter said, taking a picture of the footprints before heading out the door. “Maybe I can also figure out what this key is for in the process.”
He headed out the door, pausing to exchange a glance with Tony. The editor just gave his head a shake, prompting the reporter to shrug before exiting.
“And we need to catch up with those unctuous creeps before they do plunder something,” the Messenger said. “Forward! Infy, you and Techie take the dumbwaiter to the bottom floor; watch out for Stalfos.” He looked to the Inspector. “And you and I will take the stairs!”
The Inspector nodded and headed that way, along with the Messenger.
“Works for me,” the Informant said. He paused before leaving the room, as well, looking to Tony. “Hey, um… Mr…”
“Vincenzo-Anthony Vincenzo.”
“Yeah, uh, Mr. Vincenzo, can you do me a huge favor?” the Informant asked. “Since my dog is hiding under your bed, I was wondering if you could just keep an eye on him until we get back? He won’t be any trouble; he just wouldn’t want to be alone in a place like this. And there’s no way he’d be willing to investigate this place with us; he didn’t even want to be here in the first place.”
“Smart dog,” Tony deadpanned. He sighed. “Sure, Kid.”
“Thanks,” the Informant said, shaking Tony’s hand and then giving him a half-empty chip bag. “If he gets hungry, just give him a few of those. I really appreciate this! Let’s go, Techie!”
Tony watched them go as they took the shortcut down to the bottom floor by slipping into the nearby dumbwaiter. He then crossed back to his room, glancing at the husky’s snout protruding from under the bed.
“I could’ve planted tulips, become a priest, or gone into the venetian blind business,” he said, more to himself than Borealis. “But no… I decided to go into the news business and become a dog sitter…”
He sat at the desk in the room and pulled out a few articles he had to edit, frowning at the low level of light the oil lanterns in the room provided. He understood the gimmick of making the inn feel like it was from the 1860s, but did they really have to do so at the expense of inconveniencing guests?
A sudden slam from the door across the hall made the editor give a start.
“Carl, is that you?” he called.
No answer. He suddenly heard a loud whining coming from Borealis, who now crawled out from under the bed, visibly distressed. Tony glanced at the dog and back at the door again, growing uneasy.
“Carl!?”
The husky now emitted a sound somewhere between a bark and a howl as a cold chill seemed to enter through the door-the door swung on its hinges as though pushed by a draft from outside. The lantern flickered wildly, as though a breeze was blowing. Yet the window was closed.
As the temperature in the room plummeted, Tony could only stare as it grew to the point that he could see his breath as water vapor every time he exhaled. The husky now let out a howl, and then, suddenly, grabbed Tony’s pant leg in his mouth and tried to pull him towards the door, frantically.
“Alright, alright!” Tony said. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was unnerved himself, he would’ve been very annoyed with the dog for pulling him out the door. As it was, he followed the dog, quietly.
After they made it to the corridor, Tony suddenly froze. Carl’s room had been opened, but there was no one in there. Yet something had been in there.
“Carl…” he said, realizing that his employee was completely on his own with whatever was out there. Was something after him?
…Then again, hadn’t something just entered his room? Well, he hadn’t seen anything there, but…
Borealis whined again, looking back to Tony’s room. The editor shook his head again, not knowing what to believe.
“Okay,” he said to the dog. “You’re a police dog, aren’t you? I want you to find Carl. Here…”
He pushed the door to Carl’s room open and took the jacket from the reporter’s seersucker suit that had been placed on the chair, and he held it out to the husky.
“I know you’re not a bloodhound, but I want you to do your best impression of one,” Tony said to Borealis. “Find Carl.”
The dog sniffed at the jacket and began to follow the trail. Tony placed the jacket back on the chair and closed the door, hoping that Carl was alright.
***********************************
Meanwhile, the detectives had been in search of Double Trouble. The Messenger and the Inspector had taken the stairs and had ended up nearly colliding with the Informant and the Techie, who had just headed down the opposite end of the corridor after leaving the dumbwaiter.
“We must stop meeting like this,” the Messenger smirked, but then he sobered. “Any sign of those two?”
“Not a one,” the Techie said, shaking his head. “We looked all around where the safe was, and it doesn’t look like they’ve even found the safe yet, or know that it’s here.”
“And there aren’t any guest rooms down here, either,” the Informant said, recalling the mental map he had made upon entering the inn. “Just the lobby, the game room, the study, and the saloon. Are you sure they didn’t go back upstairs?”
“Couldn’t have-we would’ve seen them on our way down,” the Inspector said. “Come to think of it, we haven’t seen that reporter down here, either.”
“I thought I saw him near the saloon,” the Techie said. “Maybe he might’ve seen them?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” the Messenger said. “Man, when Double Trouble’s dossier said that ‘They snatch, they match, they’re hard to catch,’ it wasn’t kidding!”
Meanwhile, in the saloon, Carl was trying out various locks to see if the skeleton key he had found would fit anything down here. He was still wondering about the name he had found in room 13-Jeremiah Winstrate. Who was he? What had he done? And if he was the ghost, why was he haunting the place?
Carl paused, noticing a few strongboxes behind the bar. He had headed behind the bar, and had been taking a look at the locks and at the key when he suddenly felt a chill in the room, as though a strong breeze had filled the room.
“What on Earth-?”
The breeze suddenly increased in such intensity that Carl crashed into the back shelves behind the bar. One of the bottles crashed down on his head, knocking him out, his hand still clutched tightly around the key.
The detectives had been heading that way when they heard the crash. The Techie blinked, concerned, and was about to say something when, suddenly, a horrified scream issued from another room.
“That was from the study!” he said, distracted.
“And it sounded like one of the recalcitrant twerps!” the Informant added.
The four now headed to the study, where they saw one of the twins standing in the middle of the room, shaking like a leaf, and looking pale and horrified at a set of sunglasses lying on the study floor.
“Aha!” the Messenger exclaimed. “I thought I heard an unctuous…”
He trailed off, sensing that something was very wrong. And it soon became clear as to what it was.
“Where’s the other twin?” the Techie asked, his eyes going wide as he saw the other set of sunglasses on the floor.
“He’s gone!” the remaining twin exclaimed, panic and horror in his voice. “He was spirited away, vanished!”
“Back up a bit,” the Messenger said, as he looked around the room, cautiously. “What happened?”
The remaining twin shuddered, not even giving a second thought to the fact that he was surrounded by ACME detectives.
“He and I were heading down here to see if we could…” He trailed off. “Uh, I plead the fifth on that part, but we came in here after we heard someone head this way-turned out to be some guy in a blue suit; he headed to the saloon. My brother and I ducked in here; we didn’t want him to see us.
“While we were waiting in here, we felt this horrible chill; it got so cold, and we could see our breath. First, we heard a crash in the saloon, and then it showed up.”
“It?” the Informant asked.
“A skeleton,” the crook said. “It grabbed my brother, and then this ghost showed up-I guess it was the ghost of whoever the skeleton was. He… he said that… since he couldn’t take some big guy upstairs or the scrawny sneak, he’d settle for my brother. My brother screamed, and then… they were all gone.”
“Wait, so that thing tried to get Mr. Vincenzo first?” the Informant asked.
“What tried to get me?” Tony asked, pausing as he heard his name. He had been following Borealis, who had been following Carl’s scent.
“The ghost-and-skeleton duo that took my brother!” the twin said. “I think he went for you first-said he wanted to ‘punish the sneak.’ But he couldn’t get you or him, so…”
“Something went for Carl!?” Tony demanded. It’s not that he was apathetic for the lost twin, but his employee and friend’s welfare was his utmost concern. “Carl!? CARL!?”
Borealis barked and led the way to the saloon, where Carl was still unconscious behind the bar. The detectives brought the remaining twin there, as well, and Tony bit back a few choice words as he saw his unconscious employee.
“Carl…” he said, fanning the reporter’s face with his hand. “Carl, wake up!”
The redhead stirred, wincing.
“Carl, are you alright?” Tony asked.
“Sure,” the reporter replied. “But I think I realized another, less-known danger of whiskey.”
“Yeah, you’ll be alright,” the editor sighed.
“Are you the sneak!?” the twin asked Carl. “Are you the reason why the skeleton and ghost took my brother and spirited him away!?”
“Am I the what?” Carl asked, and he paused, looking at the key in his hand. “Oh, no…”
He shut his eyes as Tony helped him stand; he held on to his editor’s arm to steady himself. He had escaped a horrible fate, but at the expense of someone else.
“So…” the Techie said, wincing as he heard a flurry of activity all around them; people were waking up (undoubtedly because of the noise) and were quickly heading towards them to get some answers. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know,” Carl admitted, still trying to clear the mental cobwebs. “But whatever it is, we have to figure it out.”
They had to make this right.
Fandom: Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?/Kolchak: the Night Stalker
Main Characters: The Informant, the Messenger, The Techie, the Inspector, Double Trouble, Carl Kolchak, Tony Vincenzo
Supporting Characters: Various OCs
Characters Featured in this Chapter: Carl Kolchak, Tony Vincenzo, Informant-tachi, Double Trouble
Status: In progress; chapter 3 of 8 completed
Rating: PG
Summary: Part of the Endless Days of Summer project. The ACME agents head to Arizona to head off Double Trouble, but soon find themselves in a mysterious town that only seems to appear by moonlight. Meanwhile, Carl Kolchak and Tony Vincenzo end up stranded in Arizona after their flight to Chicago is canceled and end up at the same odd town.
In this chapter: The newsmen and the detectives start their search as Double Trouble start sneaking around, as well... but something is also searching for them.
Will be posted to paranormal25 when complete.
Chapter 3: Now You See Him, Now You Don't
***********************************
Tony massaged the bridge of his nose as the Messenger dared to take a look under the bed to see if the skeleton had somehow hidden itself there.
“Nope, no bones here,” he said.
The Informant gulped.
“Now what?” he asked. “You mean we’ve got this thing walking around the hotel on top of the ghost?”
“Wait just a second,” Tony said. “You mean you believe all this?”
“Well, it is a bit of a stretch,” the Messenger admitted. “But seeing as though we’ve issued a number of arrest warrants for an alien, dealt with a banshee in San Francisco, and chased down a whole bunch of Phantom Riders in Texas, I guess we can allow for some willing suspension of disbelief.”
They don’t mind me sneaking around, and they’re willing to believe me? Carl wondered. Why couldn’t they be based in Chicago?
Tony just stared at them before resigning himself to the fact that this was going to launch into a full-fledged investigation, and that he was going to be a part of it.
“Okay…” said the Techie, watching the direction the odd skeleton footprints were heading. “Apparently, whoever or whatever he was, he headed right to…” He trailed off, staring at the blank wall. “He went right through the wall!”
“Maybe the bones were really the ghost?” the Informant asked Carl.
The reporter shook his head.
“No; they were solid. The chain of the key was caught on his fingers, after all. Speaking of which…” He pulled out the key he had taken. “Wonder where this goes? It’s not the room key…”
“How do you know?” Tony asked, his eyebrows arched.
“Because it isn’t at all like any of the keys to our rooms,” Carl pointed out. He demonstrated to prove his point, and the key did not budge in the lock. But then he glanced out into the hallway and frowned. “Uh-oh… I think those twin thieves are taking a midnight stroll out there.”
“What…?” the Inspector said, flatly. He looked furious with himself for leaving his post, and now glared daggers into the hallway just in time to see the twins heading down the stairs to the main floor. “Oh, great. Looks like they’re heading down to the hotel safe for a little late-night looting.”
“Then we need to be there to catch them in the act,” the Techie said, heading away from the wall to join the others.
“But what about Mr. Stalfos?” the Messenger asked, indicating the footprints.
“I’ll look for him,” Carl volunteered.
“Need a hand?” the Informant offered. “Not for nothing, but you really don’t want to be looking for this sort of thing alone.”
“I’m used to it,” the reporter said, taking a picture of the footprints before heading out the door. “Maybe I can also figure out what this key is for in the process.”
He headed out the door, pausing to exchange a glance with Tony. The editor just gave his head a shake, prompting the reporter to shrug before exiting.
“And we need to catch up with those unctuous creeps before they do plunder something,” the Messenger said. “Forward! Infy, you and Techie take the dumbwaiter to the bottom floor; watch out for Stalfos.” He looked to the Inspector. “And you and I will take the stairs!”
The Inspector nodded and headed that way, along with the Messenger.
“Works for me,” the Informant said. He paused before leaving the room, as well, looking to Tony. “Hey, um… Mr…”
“Vincenzo-Anthony Vincenzo.”
“Yeah, uh, Mr. Vincenzo, can you do me a huge favor?” the Informant asked. “Since my dog is hiding under your bed, I was wondering if you could just keep an eye on him until we get back? He won’t be any trouble; he just wouldn’t want to be alone in a place like this. And there’s no way he’d be willing to investigate this place with us; he didn’t even want to be here in the first place.”
“Smart dog,” Tony deadpanned. He sighed. “Sure, Kid.”
“Thanks,” the Informant said, shaking Tony’s hand and then giving him a half-empty chip bag. “If he gets hungry, just give him a few of those. I really appreciate this! Let’s go, Techie!”
Tony watched them go as they took the shortcut down to the bottom floor by slipping into the nearby dumbwaiter. He then crossed back to his room, glancing at the husky’s snout protruding from under the bed.
“I could’ve planted tulips, become a priest, or gone into the venetian blind business,” he said, more to himself than Borealis. “But no… I decided to go into the news business and become a dog sitter…”
He sat at the desk in the room and pulled out a few articles he had to edit, frowning at the low level of light the oil lanterns in the room provided. He understood the gimmick of making the inn feel like it was from the 1860s, but did they really have to do so at the expense of inconveniencing guests?
A sudden slam from the door across the hall made the editor give a start.
“Carl, is that you?” he called.
No answer. He suddenly heard a loud whining coming from Borealis, who now crawled out from under the bed, visibly distressed. Tony glanced at the dog and back at the door again, growing uneasy.
“Carl!?”
The husky now emitted a sound somewhere between a bark and a howl as a cold chill seemed to enter through the door-the door swung on its hinges as though pushed by a draft from outside. The lantern flickered wildly, as though a breeze was blowing. Yet the window was closed.
As the temperature in the room plummeted, Tony could only stare as it grew to the point that he could see his breath as water vapor every time he exhaled. The husky now let out a howl, and then, suddenly, grabbed Tony’s pant leg in his mouth and tried to pull him towards the door, frantically.
“Alright, alright!” Tony said. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was unnerved himself, he would’ve been very annoyed with the dog for pulling him out the door. As it was, he followed the dog, quietly.
After they made it to the corridor, Tony suddenly froze. Carl’s room had been opened, but there was no one in there. Yet something had been in there.
“Carl…” he said, realizing that his employee was completely on his own with whatever was out there. Was something after him?
…Then again, hadn’t something just entered his room? Well, he hadn’t seen anything there, but…
Borealis whined again, looking back to Tony’s room. The editor shook his head again, not knowing what to believe.
“Okay,” he said to the dog. “You’re a police dog, aren’t you? I want you to find Carl. Here…”
He pushed the door to Carl’s room open and took the jacket from the reporter’s seersucker suit that had been placed on the chair, and he held it out to the husky.
“I know you’re not a bloodhound, but I want you to do your best impression of one,” Tony said to Borealis. “Find Carl.”
The dog sniffed at the jacket and began to follow the trail. Tony placed the jacket back on the chair and closed the door, hoping that Carl was alright.
***********************************
Meanwhile, the detectives had been in search of Double Trouble. The Messenger and the Inspector had taken the stairs and had ended up nearly colliding with the Informant and the Techie, who had just headed down the opposite end of the corridor after leaving the dumbwaiter.
“We must stop meeting like this,” the Messenger smirked, but then he sobered. “Any sign of those two?”
“Not a one,” the Techie said, shaking his head. “We looked all around where the safe was, and it doesn’t look like they’ve even found the safe yet, or know that it’s here.”
“And there aren’t any guest rooms down here, either,” the Informant said, recalling the mental map he had made upon entering the inn. “Just the lobby, the game room, the study, and the saloon. Are you sure they didn’t go back upstairs?”
“Couldn’t have-we would’ve seen them on our way down,” the Inspector said. “Come to think of it, we haven’t seen that reporter down here, either.”
“I thought I saw him near the saloon,” the Techie said. “Maybe he might’ve seen them?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” the Messenger said. “Man, when Double Trouble’s dossier said that ‘They snatch, they match, they’re hard to catch,’ it wasn’t kidding!”
Meanwhile, in the saloon, Carl was trying out various locks to see if the skeleton key he had found would fit anything down here. He was still wondering about the name he had found in room 13-Jeremiah Winstrate. Who was he? What had he done? And if he was the ghost, why was he haunting the place?
Carl paused, noticing a few strongboxes behind the bar. He had headed behind the bar, and had been taking a look at the locks and at the key when he suddenly felt a chill in the room, as though a strong breeze had filled the room.
“What on Earth-?”
The breeze suddenly increased in such intensity that Carl crashed into the back shelves behind the bar. One of the bottles crashed down on his head, knocking him out, his hand still clutched tightly around the key.
The detectives had been heading that way when they heard the crash. The Techie blinked, concerned, and was about to say something when, suddenly, a horrified scream issued from another room.
“That was from the study!” he said, distracted.
“And it sounded like one of the recalcitrant twerps!” the Informant added.
The four now headed to the study, where they saw one of the twins standing in the middle of the room, shaking like a leaf, and looking pale and horrified at a set of sunglasses lying on the study floor.
“Aha!” the Messenger exclaimed. “I thought I heard an unctuous…”
He trailed off, sensing that something was very wrong. And it soon became clear as to what it was.
“Where’s the other twin?” the Techie asked, his eyes going wide as he saw the other set of sunglasses on the floor.
“He’s gone!” the remaining twin exclaimed, panic and horror in his voice. “He was spirited away, vanished!”
“Back up a bit,” the Messenger said, as he looked around the room, cautiously. “What happened?”
The remaining twin shuddered, not even giving a second thought to the fact that he was surrounded by ACME detectives.
“He and I were heading down here to see if we could…” He trailed off. “Uh, I plead the fifth on that part, but we came in here after we heard someone head this way-turned out to be some guy in a blue suit; he headed to the saloon. My brother and I ducked in here; we didn’t want him to see us.
“While we were waiting in here, we felt this horrible chill; it got so cold, and we could see our breath. First, we heard a crash in the saloon, and then it showed up.”
“It?” the Informant asked.
“A skeleton,” the crook said. “It grabbed my brother, and then this ghost showed up-I guess it was the ghost of whoever the skeleton was. He… he said that… since he couldn’t take some big guy upstairs or the scrawny sneak, he’d settle for my brother. My brother screamed, and then… they were all gone.”
“Wait, so that thing tried to get Mr. Vincenzo first?” the Informant asked.
“What tried to get me?” Tony asked, pausing as he heard his name. He had been following Borealis, who had been following Carl’s scent.
“The ghost-and-skeleton duo that took my brother!” the twin said. “I think he went for you first-said he wanted to ‘punish the sneak.’ But he couldn’t get you or him, so…”
“Something went for Carl!?” Tony demanded. It’s not that he was apathetic for the lost twin, but his employee and friend’s welfare was his utmost concern. “Carl!? CARL!?”
Borealis barked and led the way to the saloon, where Carl was still unconscious behind the bar. The detectives brought the remaining twin there, as well, and Tony bit back a few choice words as he saw his unconscious employee.
“Carl…” he said, fanning the reporter’s face with his hand. “Carl, wake up!”
The redhead stirred, wincing.
“Carl, are you alright?” Tony asked.
“Sure,” the reporter replied. “But I think I realized another, less-known danger of whiskey.”
“Yeah, you’ll be alright,” the editor sighed.
“Are you the sneak!?” the twin asked Carl. “Are you the reason why the skeleton and ghost took my brother and spirited him away!?”
“Am I the what?” Carl asked, and he paused, looking at the key in his hand. “Oh, no…”
He shut his eyes as Tony helped him stand; he held on to his editor’s arm to steady himself. He had escaped a horrible fate, but at the expense of someone else.
“So…” the Techie said, wincing as he heard a flurry of activity all around them; people were waking up (undoubtedly because of the noise) and were quickly heading towards them to get some answers. “What do we do now?”
“I don’t know,” Carl admitted, still trying to clear the mental cobwebs. “But whatever it is, we have to figure it out.”
They had to make this right.