"No..." whispered John in horror, his bags of shopping falling to the floor as he froze in the doorway. "Oh God, please, no..." The ghastly creature before him in the darkened front room of 221B Baker Street turned and snarled menacingly, pinkish-red saliva dripping from the gaping maw that was once a delicate Cupid's bow. Its face, rather gaunt even in life, now seemed little more than a skull with pale skin stretched tautly over it; its ears had lengthened to tapered tips; its ebony curls, that had always been such a breathtaking conundrum of disheveled and casually suave, were matted here and there with grime and blood; its eyes, so full o