Dean couldn't wait for the opportunity to do a supply run. It was his time to himself, a time to detox from a hunt. And this one was proving to be a bitch. Since the disappearance of Lana a week ago, him and Sam had come up with nothing.

Lana seemed to have just dropped off th face of the earth, no sign of her anywhere. They tracked down old boyfriends, which proved to be only one. Her mother died when she was just a child and her father was out of the picture. She did have a grandmother, but she was currently in a coma at the local nursing home.

Sam was a little concerned at how wrapped up in this case Dean seemed to be. Other hunts, after a few cold trails, they would give up, but Dean kept on pursuing leads. After a week of now sleep and lousy coffee, Dean needed a serious break.

That break came in the form of a bottle of Scotch and a cheeseburger. The latter he was taking a huge bit of, when a loud guitar riff disturb the silence. Without taking his eyes off the building across the street from him, Dean grabbed the phone next to him on and let out a groan around the huge bite and put the phone to his ear.

" Hello?" His voice was muffled from the huge wad of meat he was chewing. Grease and mayo slid down his chin and he took the back of his hand and wiped it off. This had to be most satisfying burger he had in a while.

"God Dean," Sam said with a huff, "Can't you at least swallow that before you answer the phone."

Dean grabbed the bottle of Scotch and took a huge swig, washing the burger down. "What's up Sammy?" He licked the juices off his finger and sat the bottle next to his thigh.

"Uh..Police are here." On the other end of the line, Sam pulled back the lemon yellow curtain and noticed the black and white car sitting near the lobby. He watched as a cop got out of the car and walk inside the reception area.

"They for us?" Dean took another bite of his burger and sighed.

"I don't know."

Dean grabbed a few french fries and stuffed them into his mouth adding to the bigger morsel already in his mouth."I don't see how. I mean we ditched the plates and the cards."

Sam peered out the window again to see that the cop car had drove away. He let out a breath. "They're leaving. False alarm."

"See? Ain't nothing to worry about."

"What?" Sam scoffed and let the curtain fall and turned to a talbe that was sitting in the middle of the room. It was covered in books and each one showed the same theme. He walked over to the table and moved some books so he could find the one he was looking for. He picked up a worn, leather bound book that was stuffed to the seams. "So, I think I mind something in Dad's journal."

Dean stuffed the last bit of burger into his mouth and wadded up the greasy paper. "Yeah?"

"Get this," Sam braced the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he flipped to the page. "We're hunting a Dijinn."

Dean slid off the hood of the Impala and grabbed the bottle of Scotch. "A freakin' genie?"

"So you thinking they can really grant wishes?"

Sam walked to the bed and sat down on the edge, the mattress springs creaked under his weight."I don't know. I guess they're powerful enough. But they ain't like the ones we are used to. Dad thought they are some type of demon."

""My god," Dean opened the door and slid into the driver's seat."Barbara Eden was very hot, wasn't she? Way hotter than that Bewitch chick."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. Sometimes he wanted to throttle his brother for his lack of focus. Dean was sharp and alert when on a hunt, but when it came to everyday things, he was a little slow. "Are you even listening to me?"

Dean braced the phone on his shoulder and reached down to his crotch. He shifted in the seat as he adjusted himself and put the key in the ignition. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. So, uh, where do they lair up?"

"Uh," Sam flipped the page and ran his finger down the writing until he spotted it. "Ruins, usually. The bigger the better..more places to hide."

Dean looked through the windsheild and to the large building across the street. "Uh...I know of a place like that. I'm gonna check it out."

Sam closed the journal and stood up from the bed. "NO..NO.. Come pick me up first."

Dean turned the key and the powerful muscle car roared to life. "Naw, I"m sure it's nothing. Let me check it ou, if I see something suspicious, I'll call you." He flipped the phone shut and threw it on the seat next to him.

The first sensation that her small body felt, was the pounding in her head that finished into a dull roar. She tried to open her eyes but all she could see was darkness. She panicked thinking she was blind.

A sound to her right made her head snap up and that's when she realized her hands were up above her head, her wrists shackled with an iron band. She followed the rusty chain up to see it was looped around a wooden beam that ran along the ceiling of the room. Her arms were exposed to the dampness and the cold and her small body shivered.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The steady sound of water hitting the concrete masked the sound she had heard just a second ago. A door slammed somewhere behind her and the room echoed with the steal against concrete.

"He..hello?" She croaked. "Is anyone there? Help me please." Her ears strained to hear what her eyes couldn't see. She moved her bare feet along the concrete and stood on her tip toes easing the ache in her shoulders.

She heard a sound to her right and it was very close. She slowly turned her head and let out a small cry. A very tall man was coming to her with his hand raised. He was upper body was naked and covered with these strange tattoos. Several piercings covered his face and body and as she watched, he began to glow blue. The hand he was holding towards her emitted a bluish glow. As he placed it on her forehead, she tried to scream. Her head slumped forward as the man took his hand off her and smiled. He ran a long fingernail down her cheek. "Sleep."

The demon turned his head and cocked it and listened as he heard the door creak open. This was his lucky night, a two for one deal. As he ducked into the shadows, he crouched and waited.

Dean parked the car behind the warehouse, making sure it was out of sight from the main road. The last thing he needed at the moment was a cop on his ass. Him and the law didn't seem to be getting along at the moment and he wasn't thrilled in meeting tonight.

He opened the glove box and leaned over the passenger and took the flashlight that was tucked next to several maps.

He walked around to the front of the building, trying to find where the entrance was located. After walking around for some time, Dean finally found it, covered with several tree branches. He cleared them away and pushed the door open and flinched when it creaked.

While he was holding the flashlight, Dean reached into the depths of his jacket and slid out his colt. With quiet boot steps, he began to walk through what appeared to be once an office. A typewriter lay broken on the floor and several file cabinets were tipped over on their sides. Aside from the dripping of water, all seemed quiet. Maybe he was wrong about this location.

Dean walked through the cavernous warehouse, moving the flashlight back and forth. He turned around and went back the way he came, pausing just outside another room that was packed with storage boxes. As he walked past, he wasn't aware that something was watching him from the shadows.

Dean had gone only a few steps when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and noticed several plastic sheets hanging from teh ceiling. From the moonlight that was streaming in through the broken window, Dean could see a figure behind the sheet.

He swung his gun to his right and then to his left and made sure it was clear. The hair on the back of his neck began to prickle as he trained his gun ahead of him. He slowly walked to the plastic and took his hand and moved it to the right.

A woman was strung up from the ceiling and her body was limp. Her chin was resting on her chest, her dark hair framing her face from him.

"Shit.." He lowered his gun and tucked it into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. He approached the young woman and smoothed her hair back and slid a finger under her chin. When he lifted her head he let out sigh. "Son of a bitch." His fingers slid down to her throat and he dipped his head as he tried to find a pulse. It was there, but very slow. Her face was slack and her eyes were half way rolled up into her head. "Lana..." He shook her in the hopes that she would wake up, but their was no response.

Dean was shoved away from her and he stumbled towards the window. The flashlight clattered to the floor as his attacker slammed his hand into the wall. A bald man, with curling blue tattoos all over his body, held him in place.

It kept its stare on Dean as it raised its blue hand and it began to glow blue, as well as its eyes. Dean struggled against his hold as it was placed on his forehead, while the other hand clutched his throat tight. His struggles stopped as Deans eyes rolled up into his head, glowing a bright blue.