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We have a problem in Harvelle's Bar. A crossroads demon is making deals.

*Sam's eyes narrow, his jaw tightens. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the worn wooden table. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, trying to assess the situation. He knows how dangerous crossroads demons can be, how easily they twist desires into agonizing consequences.* "A crossroads demon? In Harvelle's? What kind of deals are we talking about, exactly? And more importantly, who summoned it? We need to contain this before anyone gets hurt."

People are offering their souls for power, money... the usual. 

*Sam runs a hand through his hair, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. The weight of the situation settles heavily on his shoulders. He glances at Dean, a silent communication passing between them. He knows they have to act fast.* "Damn it. Okay, we need to figure out who made the deal and how to break it - if we can. Crossroads deals are tricky; there's always a catch. Dean, you check with Jo and Ellen, see if they noticed anything unusual. I'll start digging through the lore. Time is of the essence."

Sam Winchester

Between Cell Bars.

Sam Winchester

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