Miss Stephanie Brook lived alone. She was a very successful business woman and spent almost all her time working. She enjoyed her life alone; she loved her work and was never really good at socializing outside work. There was always a sense of security in her life and boredom was never a factor. Stephanie owned a nice house with a rather beautiful garden, which she was very keen on taking care of. She cooked, washed and did all the housework herself (except for cleaning, she hired a cleaning company who cleaned her house once a week). If she felt bored she would invite a college out for a drink, visit an art gallery, or perhaps, just for the fun of it, start a temporary relationship with someone and dump him after a week. Stephanie was always very pleased with herself. She considered herself effective, smart, beautiful and a great success!
One Friday, Stephanie was working in the garden. It was a warm, sunny day in June. She was in a good mood and had decided to take a break from work and trim the branches of her apple tree. She was standing on top of the entrance to her bomb-shelter, which the previous owners of the house had had installed. It was big, green and looked rather ugly, but the estate agent "highly recommended" that she kept it. Some kids had painted graffiti on it with paint Stephanie was unable to remove. At first, she wanted to remove the whole thing, but apparently it was an extremely complicated and expensive process, so she decided to keep it. Besides, it filled the function of foothold whenever she wanted to trim the tree.
She was almost finished with the tree when she noticed that the lights in the house were flickering. Stephanie put down her hedge trimmer and went inside to check it out, but as soon as she entered the house the doorbell rang. She opened the door and found, to her surprise, the cleaners standing there.
"Oh hello," she said, "I expected you yesterday," surprised since they had never been late before, and definitely not by a whole day.
"We´re sorry," one of them said in a flat and very uninterested voice." Can we get started?"
Stephanie returned to her apple tree. She felt a bit worried, something was not right. She got the feeling that something had happened, but they refused to tell her. Also, they would usually greet her with a friendly "hallo" or "how are things going?," not just walk inside with a "sorry" and "can we get started?". She glanced towards the windows once or twice, but as soon as she saw the cleaners, they rapidly looked away, as if they had been looking at her but not wanting her to notice. This strange behavior was making Stephanie worried, and she was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. She went back to the house, intending to ask if they could come back another time. However, when the door opened, one of them was waiting for her. The man grabbed her arm and looked straight at her, he gave off a strange smell of sulfur and his eyes were pitch-black. Stephanie froze for a moment, staring into those evil, terrifying black eyes. It lasted only for a second, but at that moment she knew that the life she had known and loved, was now forever gone. Stephanie pulled back her arm and ran back towards the garden. The black-eyed man followed her, trying to capture her once again. Stephanie opened the bomb-shelter and ran inside. She turned around to close the door, only to see that the black-eyed man had stopped a couple feet away. It looked just as if he was blocked by an invisible wall, trying to get in. Stephanie closed the door and locked it tightly behind her; she switched on the lights and went down. She had never before been inside the bomb-shelter, and now she wished she had. The room was equipped with the normal emergency things like a phone and some food (with a mysterious large amount of salt). However, the room was also decorated in hundreds of different strange symbols, all painted in red. They covered the inside of the bomb-shelter, sending chills down Stephanie's spine. A barrel stood in the corner; it had the words "holy water" written on it. Two shotguns hanged from the wall, and strange things like skulls and pieces from animals she didn't recognize, were placed in glass cages along the walls. Stephanie started crying. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know what had just happened, everything was wrong and nothing made any sense. She crawled over to the emergency phone. It had no digits but a single button and the letters F.B.I. written on it.

Garth was sitting in an old shack somewhere in Florida. He found the place while ganking a ghost who had decided to haunt his old favorite painting and kill anyone he believed to be an "artthief". The shack was remotely located, and usually undisturbed. The weather was warm and the nearby village was friendly. Garth liked it here, and had decided to make this his telephone central and his new home. Other hunters would call him for advice, and he would always be happy to help them. His shelf was full of books on every myth, every religion, every monster and creature that could be used for evil. He also kept a separate shelf for Marmaduke and other comics…

One day, a phone marked F.B.I. started ringing. Apparently, somebody needed confirmation on being a real FBI-agent.

"Hello, Willies F.B.I!" Garth answered.

"Hello?" a crying voice whispered. "Is this the F.B.I?"

"Yes" Garth replied. "How can I help you?"

"Help me, please just help me!"

Garth was not prepared for this kind of call, but was just as eager as ever to respond to it.

"Ok ma'am, just calm down, ok?"

"Ok"

"Ok! Now, where are you? Are you safe?"

"I'm inside my bomb-shelter, my cleaners are outside trying to kill me, and I think the people I bought this house from are Satanists!"

Garth felt more and more confused about the whole situation. How did this woman get this number? This is not even a real F.B.I. station! Also, what did she mean by "her cleaners are trying to kill her"?

"Can you please tell me where you are so I can send help?" Garth asked.

"Oh, yes of course" the sobbing woman said with a weak voice.

Dean had just waked up. He had been stalking a very "hard to find" vampire all night, and needed some sleep. The alarm clock told him that the time was almost half past two, and that he had slept longer than he had ever done since he got back from Purgatory. Dean was tired, but he had got a good hunch of where the vamp was hiding, and was hoping to finally put down this son of a bitch. The reflection in the bathroom mirror was giving him a tired but ever so charming smile. Today was a good day!

"Who's gonna gank a vampire today? Who's gonna gank a vampire today? You are! You-you-you-you are!" Dean sang cheerfully to his reflection.

Sam had bought a pie for him from the motel-restaurant, and left it on a table near the bed. Of course it was poorly made, and definitely not his favorite flavor, but Dean felt good and was thankful for the breakfast. But, just as he was going to eat, Sam walked in and started packing quite rapidly.

"Come on Dean, we gotta get moving" Sam said, without even looking at him.

"Go? Go where? I haven't finished breakfast!" Dean replied.

"We got a demon attack just a couple of towns from here" Sam said impatiently. "Garth called us."

"Garth? Since when does he get to tell us what to do?" Dean asked.

"He keeps track of hunters and where they are needed, you know like Bobby."

Dean turned his head at the sound of his dead friends name

"He thinks that this is a job for us, so we´re going!" Sam finished.

"Since when does Garth need us for a demon job?" Dean asked growing a little frustrated with his brother. "Can´t he send some other hunter on it?

"I don't know, Dean! " Sam said, now looking at him for the first time. I don't know the details, but some woman is now trapped in her bomb-shelter with demons outside, and Garth thinks we are the ones to do it, so I'm going!

"Ok fine Dean said. "What about the vampire?"

"No it´s ok." Sam said while starting to pack again. "I got it already!"

Dean looked at his brother, both confused and upset

"You did what?" He asked with a slight hint of anger in his voice

"I got him" Sam said, failing to understand why behaving this way. "I got him; I grabbed a Machete, cut of his head and…"

"Yeah I know how to kill a vampire!" Dean interrupted. "I mean how did it happen, how did you find him?"

It wasn't that hard really." Sam admitted. "I just went down to the beach you were snooping around

Yesterday, and he just kind of … came at me."

"He came at you?" Dean asked. "No!" he paused and got out of his chair "No, this guy has been smart and careful ever since he got the scent of hunters after him. He would never do something as stupid as attacking you so close to home."

Sam went up to his brother and pulled out his cellphone.

"Is this your guy?" He said, the cellphone was showing a picture of cut-off head with short blonde hair and an open mouth full of fangs.

"Yeah." Dean sighed. "That's him." He was now seriously depressed. This had been his goal for almost a week now. He had been looking forward to putting the blade through his neck. Now Sam had got to get all the fun and didn't even seem to care. The thrill and excitement Dean had felt just moments ago, where completely gone and all he wanted to do now was to go back to bed.

"Fine" He said with a sigh. "Let's go and do Garths demon job."