"These people are dying in their sleep. How is that our problem?" You asked, spreading the last of the royal icing on the sugar cookie, adding a good shake of the red and gold sprinkles. "You promised no more hunts this close to Christmas."

He reached over, snatching the cookie and taking a huge bite out of it. "I know. But these people have their stomachs sliced open. All of their guts are missing, with pebbles and straw in its place. That has to be our thing."

Taking the empty frosting bowls to the sink, you sighed unhappily. It looked like your holiday plans were going to be placed on hold. "Fine. But we're picking out a Christmas tree on our way back."

"Deal." Dean took another cookie. "Pack these things up for the road."

After a three-hour drive, you were finally settling into a hotel in the small little town. Every single building was covered in some sort of Christmas decorations. Snow-covered the sidewalks, and continued to steadily coming down. "Did we step into a snowglobe?" You asked, admiring the small tinsel Christmas tree on the table. A garland was hungover each bed, along with lights around the window. It was the most festive hotel room you had ever seen.

"Isn't it awesome?" Dean exclaimed. "I love this town!"

Sam stomped his boots, kicking off the snow before stepping inside. "It's really snowing outside. We might be stuck here for a while. Guess we'll be spending a lot of time researching."

"Speak for yourself," Dean smacked Sam's shoulder. "I'm gonna head down to the nearest bar. With weather like this, I guarantee a lot of the locals have gathered there. Have fun researching. I'll bring food back later."

Grabbing his fleece-lined canvas coat, he left without another word, leaving you and Sam to do the bulk of the research. "You can head too," Sam offered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I got this."

"No, I'll help you. I'm not big on the bar scene." Handing Sam one laptop, you opened your own, getting down to business.

An hour or so later, you felt as if you hadn't made much progress. "Sam, have you found anything?"

"I called the coroner's office, and they told me pretty much what we already know. The victim died in their sleep, their bellies ripped open. Everything, their stomach, liver, kidneys. All replaced with stone and straw. They've never seen anything like that. Three people so far."

It was puzzling to you too. "I've never heard of anything like it either," you admitted. "I guess maybe after we talk to their families we can figure...,"

The door slammed open and Dean sauntered inside, snow covering the collar of his jacket. His hair was all messed up, a big goofy grin on his face. "You guys will never believe it. I found this...this amazing woman. Here. In this tiny little town."

He sank down on the edge of the bed, both you and Sam glaring at him. "You've been flirting? Weren't you supposed to be working?"

He waved you off. "I can do both sweetheart. You'd know that if you ever came to the bar with me. But yeah, she said she knew the last victim. Even told me if I came over to her place tonight she would tell me all about it."

"Dean," you and Sam both exclaimed. "Doesn't that sound like a trap?"

Rolling his eyes, he checked his reflection in the mirror, brushing his hair back. "Maybe. I don't care. She's freaking hot. Don't wait up for me guys."

He started to pass you, and you reached up, picking a couple of strands of straw from his collar. "Dean, did you take a roll in a barn on your way back?"

He shook his head. "Nope. I have no idea where that came from."

He headed out the door, and you stared at Sam as the wheels in your mind turned. "Sam, are you thinking...,"

Sam quickly turned back to his laptop, typing away. "I think I have something. Come check."

You leaned over his shoulder, looking at what was the scariest woman you had ever seen. Frau Perchta? I've never heard of her."

"Neither have I. But I typed in straw, pebbles, and a beautiful woman and it pulled up. I think Dean might be her next victim."

You were grabbing your coat before Sam could close his laptop. "It's not much, but we have nothing else to go on. And if Dean is...,"

"We'll get there in time," Sam promised, his hand resting on your shoulder. "And then you can finally tell him how you feel."

You had no idea where this creature lived, but it was a small town. Dean had taken the Impala, which left you and Sam to hit the sidewalks. They were a little slippery, snow still falling steadily. The air was crisp, burning at your cheeks, your nose quickly turning red. Rubbing your hands together, you hoped that you would find the place soon.

Rounding the corner, you slipped on some black ice, falling to the sidewalk with a cry. "I swear if Dean is already dead, I'm gonna kill him," you muttered as Sam helped you up. Bending over, your side aching, you noticed the sleek black Impala just a little farther down. "Sam, we found him!"

You hobbled behind Sam, your side still aching as you stopped in front of a small, bungalow-style house. While the rest of the street had strings of light decorating their houses, this one was dark except for the candles in the windows. A holly wreath hung on the door, but that was it.

"Hmm, seems off," you muttered, following Sam to the Impala. Using his spare key, he unlatched the trunk, picking up a variety of weapons, sticking them in his pockets before handing you a couple as well.

"We have no idea if this is her, or how to kill her. We'll just have to be careful." Sam said as he shut the trunk quietly. "Let's go."

You stepped through the thick snow, heading to the window. Inside you could see the dining room table, filled with all sorts of food. Your stomach growled just looking at it. No electric lights could be seen. Candles were everywhere, creating a dark, but romantic setting. Dean was standing off to the side, a glass of something dark in his hand. The woman in question was beside him, running her hand up and down his shoulder. She had long black hair, a voluptuous body covered in a loose white dress. You hated her immediately. She was beckoning Dean towards the food.

Her reflection passed in the mirror off to the side, and that's when you knew for certain you were at the right place. Instead of the beautiful porcelain face and long, flowing locks, there was rotting skin and grey hair. She was an ugly old hag, confirming your suspicions that you were dealing with Frau Pertcha.

Dean must have seen her reflection. His eyes grew wide, and he stepped back, reaching into the back of his jeans for the gun he had left behind in the Impala. "What the hell are you?" You could hear him say.

"Come. Eat. Enjoy this feast," she pleaded, reaching up towards him, but he pushed her away.

"You're the reason we're here!" You're killing those people!"

Her beautiful countenance disappeared, her skin turning ashen as she floated inches above the ground. "How dare you!" She screamed, her voice shrill with a heavy ancient accent. She reached for Dean, just as Sam burst through the door.

Leaving your view from the window, you followed Sam just in time to see Dean fall to the ground, his body limp and pale. "No!" You screamed, racing towards her with your knife held up.

She just laughed, pushing you to the side with ease. Sam raised his gun, shooting her right between her eyes. Once again she laughed, the bullet passing through her, embedding in the wall. "Your foolish weapons are no match for me."

Using the table to stand up, you reached for the first thing to your side, holding up a thick slice of fruitcake. Chucking it at her head, you watched in amazement as she started to sizzle, her rotting flesh falling off.

"Y/N, more!" Sam yelled, and you grabbed another piece, throwing and hitting her in the chest. Screaming, she clawed at the fruitcake, trying to pull it away from her sizzling body. While she was distracted, you took the last piece, shoving it into her opened mouth.

Stepping back, you watched as her entire body started to smoke, before bursting into flames and vanishing in front of your eyes. "Fruitcake?" You couldn't believe it, staring at Sam who also seemed astonished.

Dean started to wake on the floor, and you helped him to his feet. "What the hell was that?" He asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"A Frau Petchla," you answered, looking him over to make sure he was okay.

"And how did you get rid of her?" He asked, leaning into your touch.

"Freaking fruitcake," Sam muttered, brushing his hair back. He still couldn't get over the fact that fruitcake had been the weapon that had taken her down, and neither could you.

"Fruitcake? Fruitcake killed her?"

"Yep. I just chucked it at her head," you chuckled. "Had to try something."

Dean wrapped his arm around your shoulder, the three of you leaving the house behind. "Well, I know for sure I'm definitely not touching that stuff ever."

"Me either," you agreed, enjoying the way Dean's body felt against yours, hoping that maybe you would be brave enough to tell Dean how you felt. After all, you had just saved him with a loaf of fruitcake.