The guards glance at each other before one of them nods once, sharply, and slips the handcuffs from his belt. He secures them around Eric's wrists, his flesh smoking and burning when it comes into contact with the silver.

Pam winces, and as she moves to the bars of the cell, another guard slams the door shut. She wants to call out to Eric, to tell him to go down fighting, to tear Bill's face off when he can-- but it wouldn't do any good. So she remain silent, watching the guards lead Eric away. And she braces herself for the moment she'll feel his true death.

The guards March Eric down the hall and up the stairs, and into the main room of Bill's mansion. A fourth guard joins them. He's holding an old, ornate box, about a foot and a half long. From there, they escort him outside.

There's a full moon tonight.

In the distance, wolves howl.

And Bill Compton is waiting on the front lawn.