She'd better pay up after all that...

The castle hadn't changed. Neither had the Countess, though of course, she never would. They sat in the same chairs they'd sat in back when all this started. The serving woman, Helen, lurked around the doorway again. The Countess smiled, a startling sight.

"It seems you've performed beyond my wildest expectations, Mr. Talbot."

"I just did the job," William said.

"And now you want your reward. Here it is, as promised: a cure." She produced a flat black box. "In here is the only thing in the world that can help you. After today, the curse of the werewolf will trouble you again." William's heart was in his throat. He reached for the box but the Countess pulled it away. "Allow me," she said, undoing the latch.

William barely had time to blink when she pulled out the revolver and, leveling it at his chest, shot him through the heart. He gasped. She squeezed the trigger three more times and he fell back in the chair, collapsing on the study floor, blood pooling beneath him. He tried to talk but no words came out. Then he closed his eyes. The countess put the smoking gun on her desk.

"There," she said. "Four silver bullets: The surefire cure for any werewolf." And then she laughed.

Helen looked at William's unmoving form. He wasn't breathing. "Take that away," the Countess said, and she scrambled to obey.

Somewhere outside, a wolf howled.