End of a Nightmare... Or Is It?

Note finished, I raised the pistol to my temple, two seconds from pulling the trigger. It’ll all be over, I thought. My hand shook violently. I couldn’t do it, I didn’t have the nerve. I threw the pistol with a cry of anguish.
Just then, a low gutteral moan came out from behind a table. Glancing, I saw it was the doctor, holding a reddening handkerchife to his neck. He slowly crawled over to a cabinet, rummaged through the bottom shelf, and rolled a vial to my feet.
“What’s this?” I asked, approaching him and picking up the vial.
“I’d… forgotten…” he mustered weakly. “Just… take… it. When full moon… go… go…”
“Go where?” I shrieked, running to him and almost shook him. But he collapsed in my arms, dead. My only hope, the only one who knew what was happening.

There was no one else.

Or so I thought.

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