Me and my brothers were back at Bobby's house for a few days, helping him to make the Colt. Right not, Bobby, Dean and I were working on it while Sam went to find us a case.

I glanced up to see Sam walking in with a newspaper, "Hey," He said. "Hey, what's up?" I asked. "Might've found some omens in Ohio," He answered. "Dry lightning, barometric-pressure drop."

"Well, that's thrilling," Dean said. Sam walked came closer, "Plus, some guy blows his head off in a church and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out. Might be demonic omens."

"Or it could just be a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker," Dean suggested. "Yeah, but it's our best lead since Lincoln," Sam said. "Where in Ohio?" I asked. "Elizabethville," He replied. "It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt."

"There's got to be a demon or two in South Beach," Dean said and Sam smirked, "Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time." He looked at Bobby, "How's it going, Bobby?"

"Slow," Bobby grumbled. "Man, I tell you, it's a little sad seeing the Colt like that," Dean said. "Well, the only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick," Bobby said. "So what makes it tick?" Sam asked.

Bobby looked at Sam, giving him a look. Sam hold his hands up in amusement and I smirked before getting up, "Hey so, if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio, you think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?"

Dean and Sam let out a chuckle while Bobby gave me a look, "Well, it won't kill demons by then, but I can promise you it'll kill you."

I smirked, "I love you too, Bobby," I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You better be," He said. "All right, come on, we're wasting the daylight," Dean said with a smirk as he got up.

"See you, Bobby," Sam said as we headed to the door. "Hey," Bobby said, stopping us so we turned to face him. "You three run into anything - anything - you call me." We nodded before walking out.

... ...

After a little while, we got to Elizabethville and dressed up as insurance investigators before heading to the church that the guy had killed himself in.

A priest, Father Gil, came up to us and agreed to talk to us. "There's not much left for the insurance company. It was a suicide - I saw it myself," He explained.

"Well, this shouldn't take long, then," Dean said. Father Gil sighed and looked up towards the balcony above the doors in front of us, "That's where Andy did it. It's the first time I'd seen him in weeks. He used to come every Sunday."

"When did he stop?" I asked. "Probably about . . . two months ago? Right around the time everything else started to change," He answered. "Change how?" Sam asked.

"Let's just say this used to be a town . . . you could be proud of," Father Gil said. "People cared about each other. Andy sang in the choir, and then one day, he just . . . wasn't Andy anymore. It was like he was . . ."

"Possessed?" I suggested. "You could say that," He said. "Gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, destroyed his business. Yes, like a switch had flipped."

"Father, did you know the man who killed those folks in the hobby shop?" Sam asked. "Sure, Tony Perkins," Father Gil replied.

"Tony Perkins," Sam repeated. "Good man," Father Gil said. "Would you say that his personality suddenly changed one day, too?" I asked.

"I never thought about it that way, but . . ." He trailed off. "Yes. about the same time as Andy - about two months ago." Me and my brothers shared a glance before looking back at Father Gil. "Well, thank you, Father. Appreciate your time," Dean said.

He nodded to us before walking away. Me and my brothers started to walk out of the church. "Two months ago, the devil's gate open, all of a sudden this town turns into Margaritaville?" Sam asked. "It's no coincidence."

After that, we headed to get a room in a hotel. Dean turned on the lights of the room we got and we saw a big mirror on the ceiling over the beds on the room. Dean chuckled, shaking his head.

I went back to the door to close it but stopped when a door across from us opened and someone familiar walked out. "Richie?" I asked in shock. He looked at me and I let out a small chuckle, looking at my brothers, "I don't believe it."

"Scarlett? Scarlett Winchester?" Richie asked, smirking at me. "Yeah," I said as my brothers walked closer. A blonde girl walked out of Richie's room and I raised an eyebrow. "This is my sister, uh, Cheryl," Richie said.

"Hey," Cheryl said. "Cheryl," Dean said. Richie handed her some money, "There." She took the money and walked away. Richie looked back at us, "Well, you know . . . stepsister."

"Gross," I muttered. "Come on in," Dean said to him and he walked in. "This is our brother, Sam." They shook hands, "Hey. How you doing?" Richie asked.

"Not too bad. How do you two know this guy?" Sam asked, looking between me and Dean. "Well, you were in school," I said.

"It was that succubus, in Canarsie right?" Richie asked. "Yeah, yeah," Dean said. "Oh, man," Richie said and looked at Sam, "You should have seen the rack on this broad. Freakin' tragedy when I had to gank her."

"Whoa, whoa. Wait," I said. "Who killed her? If I remember, your ass was toast until Dean and I showed up."

Richie looked at Sam again, "Oh, I forgot what a comedian this girl was." I shook my head, smirking.

"Richie, Richie, know what?" Dean started as Richie's phone started to ring. "We told you then and we'll tell you again - you're not cut out for this job. You're gonna get yourself killed."

Richie pulled out his phone, "Talk to me," He said before walking to the window and then turned to Dean, "FYI, Winchester - words hurt." He turned back to the phone, "Yeah? No, it's not a good time, babe. Later." He hung up and sat down on the brown couch.

"So you find anything in this town, anyway?" I asked. "No. I got nothing," He said, smirking. "Oh, wait a minute. You mean as in demons and whatnot?"

"Yeah," I said. "No, I got nothing," He said. "Typical," I said, rolling my eyes as I sat down on one of the beds. "What about your sister back there?" Dean asked.

"Oh, honestly? She definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm saying?" Richie said. Dean and I shared a frown and then looked back at him. "Right. Seriously." He got up, "Church guy, hobby-shop guy - they were lunch meat by the time I got there. Hey maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it."

"Yeah, that's where we are, too. You know, let's just say that demons are possessing people in this town," Sam said. "You know, raising hell -"

"Yeah, but why would a demon blow his brains out?" Dean asked. "Well, for fun?" Richie suggested. "You know he wrecks one body, moves to another. You know, like taking a stolen car for a joyride."

"Anybody else left in the town that fits the profile?" I asked. "You know, nice guy turned douche, still breathing?"

"There's Trotter," Richie informed. "Who's that?" Sam asked. "Well, he used to be head of the Rotary Club," Richie explained. "And then people say he turned bastard all of a sudden? Brought in the gambling, the hookers . . . Ah, he practically owns this whole town."

"Know where we could find him?" I asked. "Oh, he'll be at his bar in a few hours," He replied and I nodded.