Sam awoke with a painful groan as he tried to sit up. However, Sam had come to find that when he did so, he only moved about two inches from his laying position. He shivered, and as he opened his eyes, he was engulfed into the darkness. The feeling of fear consumed his entire being as he could barely move his body and his heart began to race. He felt cold and clammy, surely if there was a light, his breath would be seen. A faint sound of ticking could be heard as he lay down. Something was not right; not right at all. He was trapped and it seemed that there was no possible way of figuring this out.

C'mon Sam. He thought to himself. There has to be a way… there always is a way. However, he could barely budge a muscle, except moving his arms only so much to check his surroundings; so escaping was out of the question.

Sam thought hard, trying to remember if there was any detail that would help give him clues as to how he got there in the first place.

--

Dean awoke to the alarm clock blaring in his right eardrum. He groaned as he kept his eyes closed, whilst his hand tried to search for the button to stop the alarm. He managed to find it, to his surprise, but didn't give a damn, until something seemed off. The minute he had hit that off button, a ticking sound was heard. Nothing to that of a bomb going off, but it still was pretty loud in the room.

Dean sat up immediately and looked to the clock to see that there was a countdown that appeared. 36:00:00 and it was counting down. That meant a day and a half. Dean eyes drifted to the bed where Sam was supposed to be laying down on. He pulled the knife from under his pillow that he always had a habit of doing, and also leaned underneath the bed to grab his trusted gun.

He stood from the bed and cautiously walked towards the bathroom, which had a light shinning from underneath the crack of the door. "Sam?" Dean asked with a grungy, worn out voice, "You in there?" No reply was heard. Dean bit his lip and pushed the door wide open. He cursed under his breath. Nothing. No sign of Sam at all. Dean grunted and stormed out of the bathroom. He walked back to Sam's bed and kicked it hard out of frustration. Dean walked to the window, nearly ripped the curtain off of the rails, to find that his car was still out there.

Something was off about this whole situation. Sam would've left a note or had let him know that he was off to do something. But no. There was no sign of his brother. AT ALL. Dean was pissed off, but more concerned and worried than ever. He knew they both had got back to the motel room after their last hunt, and both had gone to sleep at the same time. Now Sam all of the sudden was gone?

Dean walked to Sam's bed, irritated, and pulled off the blanket in anger. As he did so, a small thud was heard. Dean brought his direction to the floor to find a small tape player which had a piece of paper taped on it saying 'play me'.

Dean crouched down and picked up the player with a raised brow. "What the hell is this supposed to mean Sammy?" He asked himself as he pushed down the play button and glanced at the clock that now read 35:58:32.

"Hello Dean. I want to play a game." The voice said in a menacingly deep tone. "Up until now you have spent your life hunting with your brother at your side. You have yet to realize that you have taken him for granted. Now, you, Dean, must go on a hunt of your own. A hunt to find your brother. Be careful though, you only have so much time to do so before Sam will die from your actions. Can you find him in time?"

Dean swore aloud and threw the player across the room, hitting the wall and breaking it. He knocked off the lamp on the small corner table on the floor in frustration. So much was going through his mind and this game was seriously fucked up beyond belief.