When he witnessed the last of the old manor disappear into the fog, Sam turned his attention forward again and there was a man in the road ahead of him. He pushed his back foot down hard on the pedal causing his rear tire to lock up and the bike to skid into a sideways halt. The man was dressed in white, and outstretched his palm toward Sam, then he began to close his fingers one at a time, pinky to thumb, while rotating his hand toward himself and bringing it close in to his own chest; as he did so the encompassing fog bore down on them from all directions, and they too disappeared.
Kevin was dragged into an empty room with what appeared to be a round stone well at its center. The black apparition threw him to the corner and quickly slipped out the way it had brought them in, slamming the door behind itself. Kevin's arm was numb from the biting freeze of the thing's grasp; he was slunk down on one knee and clutching the cold limb with his good hand while trying to fight back to his feet by pushing up against the wall. His head was floating with some delirium as he stumbled to stand, and he lunged for the door but fell against the hard stone of the protruding well. There was a cold flow of air with a sterile odor emanating from the depths of the well's black interior, and Kevin thought he faintly recognized voices not wholly unfamiliar swirling around inside its void. Then he heard another sound, but this one foreign and terrifying; it was coming not from the well, but from outside of the house beyond where he had been taken. It was a singular and hideous laughing, and it sent a chill through Kevin's whole being. He gathered his presence of mind though; if the thing was out there, he had a chance to escape, but as soon as he found the strength to stand, the laughter stopped, and the door exploded open and the wicked thing tackled and pulled him into the darkness of the well.