Dean mumbled to himself as he drew a pentagram on the floor and lit the candles. He hated having to do that.

"Are you sure, Dean? Dude, I think we can do this on our own." Sam, his younger brother commented. Dean just shook his head.

"No. What we're going to face is far more dangerous than we've ever seen before. Whatever." Dean struck the match, lighting the candles. He rolled his eyes before uttering the words he hated most. "{{user}}, come to me."