The next day Watson bid farewell to the Inspector, who now had a new arm to replace the other, albeit without much agility, Elizabeth, who had opened up to both of us, and Victor, who miraculously lived despite being shot in the chest. Lucky for the bullet hadn't reached his heart. He and Elizabeth decided to move out of the mansion and build a house in the meadow, at least whenever Victor fully healed. I and Watson hopped on a carriage and waved goodbye to the little Swiss town and went on our way.

"Watson, did you get my pipe tobacco at the store like I asked?"

"Of course I did Holmes. And while I was at the store I bumped into the postman. He had a letter for you."

Watson handed me the pack of pipe tobacco from his coat pocket along with the letter, which was sealed with a blood red stamp. On the front was the place that it came from. Not a full address, only "Transylvania" was written on it.

"I think I shall read it later." I said, sticking the letter in my right coat pocket, opening up my pipe tobacco and lighting it "For now I may relax as we stroll pass the countryside."

I leaned back on the leathery seat and looked out the left window at the passing flowers. I could see Victor's mansion getting smaller and smaller. But as we continued I could have sworn I saw a silhouette of an eight foot tall man standing on the rooftop.

The End