"And you're sure it's a regular stake in the blood of their victim?" You held the phone with your shoulder as you finished packing the trunk of your car. Clothes, laptop, set of knives, a few guns including your shotgun, everything seemed to be stored for the next motel. The hunting life didn't require a lot of personal items, but it was one of the heaviest jobs to do. Nonetheless, it was a job that needed to be done.
"Yeah, plus they have a huge sweet tooth," the younger Winchester brother said through the phone, "if you see someone with an excessive amount of candy, it's probably your trickster."
When you chucked the last bag and double checked that you had everything ready to go, you slammed the trunk door shut. "Thanks again Sam, tell Dean I said hi."
"Are you sure you don't need our help? We're only a couple hours away-"
"I'm fine, you guys do your thing. I'll call if you I need backup." You hung up the phone and entered your car. You appreciated the offer, but this case was something you thought could handle on your own.
The Winchester brothers were great hunters who have been there for you since you began hunting on your own. Your parents knew their dad when you were all kids, occasionally your mom and dad would drop you off at the same motel if your parents worked a case together with John. You didn't mind Sam, he was mostly quiet and didn't bother you much. Dean on the other hand, he would tease you by showing off some of his hunting skills. Of course you would always one up him, making him extremely jealous. As you all grew older you had a mutual respect to the older Winchester brother. The visits also stopped once you grew up like many things, only running into them once in a blue moon on a case.
This time you were on your way to a small town that had reports of deaths caused by mythical creatures, and not the normal ones you've hunted. One witness said their neighbor was mauled by a ten foot cyclops, another saying a centaur dragged her boyfriend into the woods to never be seen again. To top it off, a homeless man said he saw a dragon burn a man to a crisp. Even though you knew dragons existed, the one he described was like something out of the Hobbit. Every crime scene had one piece of evidence left behind: a candy wrapper. Hours of research only lead to a trickster being the only culprit, being sure that a gang of mythical creatures of that variety was improbable.
You drove off to the small town and checked in to the cheapest motel. On the bed you spread your variety of weapons out to prepare for the hunt. How hard could it be to hunt this trickster down?