( CROSSROADS )

GREENWOOD, MISSISSIPPI
AUGUST 1938

SALOON
[ ☾]

      A black man plays music with a band. He hears the growling of a dog, outside. He pauses, then resumes. Again, he stops, hearing eerie barking that nobody else seems to notice, and seeing a dark shape flitting past the window.

      The cigarette falls from his mouth; he is terrified. He stands, clutching his guitar, and bolts from the room in terror. The Woman and several others follow. The man, Robert stops, listening for the dog. He hears it, drops the guitar, and runs into a wooden house and bolts the door behind him.

      He hears the scrabbling and barking of the dog and draws a chair across the floor, wedging it under the door. He backs up slowly, then sinks to his knees, weeping.

      The door rattles violently until it flies open; two men and the Woman from earlier enter to find Robert on the floor, convulsing. "What is going on?" One Man asks

      "Oh my God!" The Woman goes to Robert, runs her hands over him. "Get a Doctor. Run!"

      The Old Man runs. The Woman leans over Robert, patting his face. "What happened? Talk to me!" She yells.

      "Dogs..." Robert says.

      "Stay with us, baby!" The Woman yells.

      "Dogs...Black dogs..." He says.

      "Robert? Robert, don't you die on me!"

PRESENT

DINER
[ ☼ ]

      Sam, Elena and Dean are sitting at a table, Sam with his laptop open. Onscreen is a mugshot of Dean from the St. Louis Police Department. "So much for our low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database." Sam says.

      Dean grins. "Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something." He says.

      "Dean, it's not funny. Makes the job harder, we've gotta be more careful now." Elena says.

      "Well, what do they got on you guys?" Dean asks.

      "On me, nothing." Elena says.

      "I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet." Sam mutters.

      "No accessory? Nothing?" Dean asks

      "Shut up." Says Sam.

      Dean begins laughing. "You're jealous." He says to Sam.

      "No, I'm not!" Sam yells.

      "Uh-huh. All right. What do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young man, you?" Dean asks.

      Sam shuts his computer, annoyed, and pulls out several pages of research. "Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed." Sam says.

      "Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call animal control?" Dean asks.

      "Two days earlier." Sam says.

      "Did he actually say Black Dog?" Dean asks.

      "Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town." Sam says. "After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive."

      "What's the lore on it?" Elena asks.

      Sam passes Dean and Elena the pages. "It's all pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but...some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they're big, nasty." Sam says

      "Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg, look at that one, huh?" Dean holds up a picture and smirks. Sam glares and Dean's smirk slips "What? They could."

APARTMENT
[ ☼ ]

      In a posh, well-lit room, Sam, and Dean are wearing their usual business attire interviewing a man. "So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" Sam asks him.

      "That's right. Now one more time, this is for...?" The Man asks.

      "A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest." Elena says and The Man laughs. "This funny to you?"

      "No, it... it's just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind... well, he gets another tribute." The Man says.

      "Right. Any idea why he'd do such a thing?" Sam asks.

      "I, I have no clue, I mean he lived a charmed life." The Man says.

      "How so?" Elena asks.

      "He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I... and it wasn't always that way, either."

      "No?" Dean asks.

      "You wanna know the truth? There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent." The Man says. "Hell, ten years ago he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyds. A complete dive."

      "Right. So what changed?" Sam asks.

      "You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing...he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like, the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart..." The Man cuts off abruptly.

      "What?" Dean asks.

      "It's funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent? Why...why just throw it away?"

STREET
[ ☼ ]

      Dean exits a building designated Animal ProtectionAgency, still wearing the suit. Sam and Elena are waiting in the car. Dean gets in the driver's side. "So." Sam says.

      "Secretary's name is Carly. She's twenty three, she, uh, kayaks, and they're real." Dean says and Elena rolls her eyes.

      "Boys." She mumbles.

      "You didn't happen to ask her if she's seen any black dogs lately, did you?" Sam asks.

      Dean holds up a page. "Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There's nineteen calls in all. And, uh," He pulls off a Post-it note. "I don't know what this thing is."

      Sam takes it, reads it, and laughs. He glances at Dean. "You mean Carly's MySpace address?"

      "Yeah, MySpace, what the hell is that?" Dean asks and Sam laughs again. "Seriously, is that like some sort of porn site?"

DR PEARLMAN'S HOUSE
[ ☼ ]

      Dean, Elena and Sam approach yet another white suburban door and knock. "I swear, if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbor's yard..." Dean starts. The door opens to reveal a young woman.

      "Afternoon, ma'am." Elena pulls out an ID. "Uh, Animal Control."

      "Oh, someone already came yesterday." The Woman says.

      "Oh, we're just following up. We're looking for Dr. Sylvia Pearlman?" Sam says.

      They all move inside as the Woman leads them. "The Doctor, well, she, I don't know exactly when she'll be back, she left two days ago." She says.

      "Okay. And you are...?" Sam asks.

      "I'm Ms. Pearlman's maid." She says.

      "So where did the Doctor go?" Dean asks.

      "I'm not sure. She just packed and went, she didn't say where. That stray dog, did you find it finally?" The Maid asks.

      "Oh, not yet. You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?" Elena asks.

      "Well, no. I never even heard it. In the background," The Maid says. Dean takes a photograph off the wall: it shows Dr. Pearlman at a bar with two friends. "I was almost starting to think the Doctor was imagining things, but she's not like that, so..."

      "Hey, you know I read she was, uh chief surgeon at the hospital. She's gotta be what, forty two, forty three? That's pretty young for that job." Dean says.

      The Maid smiles. "Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position...ten years ago?" She says.

      "Huh."

      "Huh. An overnight success. Ten years ago." Sam says.

      "Yeah, we know a guy like that. Oh, look at this." Dean says and holds up the photo, flips it over to show writing on the back. "Lloyd's Bar."

MOTEL ROOM
[ ☼ ]

      In a rumpled hotel room with red curtains and sheets, a forty-something woman, Dr. Pearlman, huddles on the bed. Her hair is frazzled and she is terrified, flinching at the slightest noise and hugging her arms around herself. She stands, pacing. "Oh god."

      She hears a loud pounding at the door. She whirls to face it, frozen. "Ms. Pearlman? I've been calling for hours. You need to vacate the room or you gotta pay for another night!"

      She opens the door and pokes her head out. "Okay. No problem." She goes to the bed and opens her wallet, pulling out some cash.

      As she turns back to the door, she sees the man's face stretch hideously, mouth opening wide and eyes rolling back in his head. She gasps, tosses the money down at his feet, shuts the door and chains it. She leans against it, panting.

CROSSROADS
[ ☼ ]

      Dean, Elena and Sam pull up outside Lloyds Bar and get out. As they walk towards the bar, Dean notices some yellow flowers growing by the side of the road. He stops. "Hey." He says.

      "Yeah?" Elena asks.

      "That's weird." Dean says. Pan up to reveal the crossroads; on more than one corner, the yellow flowers are growing.

      "What?" Sam asks.

      "Think someone planted these?" Dean asks.

      "Middle of all these weeds?" Elena asks.

      "These are, uh, what do you call 'em." Dean asks Sam.

      "Yarrow flowers?"

      "Yeah. Used for certain rituals, aren't they?" Dean asks.

      "Yeah, actually. Summoning rituals."

      "Heh. So, two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's." Dean says.

      "Where there just happens to be a crossroads. You think?" Sam asks.

      "Let's find out." Dean walks to the center of the crossroads and looks around, measuring. "This seems about the dead center to you?"

      Dean digs a few inches into the hard soil and hits something solid. He stops. "Yahtzee." He drops the shovel and digs with his hands, pulling out an old rusted box. He opens it.

      It contains, among other things, several small bones and a small stoppered jar that Sam takes out. "I'd be willing to bet that's graveyard dirt. And a black cat bone." He says.

      "That's serious spellwork. I mean, that's Deep South Hoodoo stuff." Dean says.

      "Used to summon a demon."

      "Not just summon one. Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the damn thing. You know, 'cause that always ends good." Dean says sarcastically.

      Elena nods. "So people are making deals." She says.

      "Yeah, whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting. And that Doctor lady? Wherever she's running? She ain't running fast enough." Dean says.

MOTEL
[ ☾]

      Inside Dr. Pearlman's hotel room, the door is rattling violently. She crouches by the window, screaming. The rattling stops and she gets up warily.

      Suddenly something invisible bursts through the window, knocking her to the ground. She scrabbles backwards along the floor, away from the scratching and growling.

      Something with sharp claws grabs her leg and shreds it, leaving bloody trails. She's pulled across the floor, grasping at the bed sheets and screaming.