THEN! Henry Winchester traveled from 1958 to 2013 and met his grandsons, Sam and Dean. He was probably like, "Holy crap, men sure are taking good care of themselves in the future!" Henry came from a long (and heretofore unknown) line of Men of Letters, a secret society dedicated to sipping tea and chronicling the supernatural. To Henry's initial disappointment, his grandsons ended up hunters. He was entrusted with a secret key and lost his life to a demon named Abaddon while protecting it. In his last, symbolic act, he passed the key on to Sam.

That brings us up to speed for this week, which begins in Vitsyebsk, Belarus in 1944. Sometimes I forget that countries outside the US exist on this show, so it was quite a shock seeing this. We follow a man on a motorcycle to an ivy-covered estate that would make a pleasant little B&B, if not for all the Nazi flags and SS cars parked outside. "Heil Hitler," the motorcycling Nazi greets the guard. "You're late," the guard says in German. After learning that his fellow soldier has been spending time with a lady, he wishes for him to get the clap. Oh, he's about to get a lot worse than that, don't you worry! The motorcycling Nazi wanders off towards the security post. As the guard tries in vain to light a cigarette, the sound of very heavy footfalls gets nearer. The guard looks up, and up some more. He screams.

The motorcycling Nazi glances up from his post just in time to see the guard come flying through the window, bloody and broken. A man or something like it lurks in the shadows beyond. The surviving Nazi sounds the alarm.

Somewhere inside, an SS officer pours a jar of melted redcurrant jam into a metal bowl. He looks more than a little bit like Henry Winchester, but it's apparently just an accident of casting and not a sign of something sinister in the family history. He seems none too pleased to hear the alarm. How is he ever going to finish his Berliner recipe with all these distractions! Several other men are in the room with him -- manning a radio, jotting notes in a ledger and so on. They all look like they're about to drop some bratwursts in their shorts. "The thing won't go down!" says the one at the radio. "It broke through the line at the east gate!" Frantic screams and prolific gunfire can be heard coming from outside. One man takes the ledger and locks it in a briefcase. The radio operator shouts, "Commandant, it tore Richter in half!" Andy, nooooo! "My God, what is it?" asks one man. "It is coming to kill you, soldier," says the commandant. "I suggest you ready your weapon." Three soldiers upend a table, crouch behind it and aim their firearms at the door. The commandant continues on with his recipe, sprinkling a little nutmeg and cinnamon into the bowl to accentuate the flavor. "Damn you, sorcerers of Abraham," he says. The soldiers give each other looks like, "Commandant is cray-cray." They hear the heavy footfalls approaching and gape at the door. The commandant lights a candle and chants in Latin over the bowl.