This time of year reminds me of some really weird and scary shit that happened to me and my friend during winter break of our senior year in high school. We worked part-time at a local bakery. Although it didn't pay much, it did give us some spending money.

Our store was assigned to bake something for our town's Christmas parade. Our boss, Harold, was ecstatic about this.

"Harry, Tim, we are going to put one hundred percent into this! It has to be perfect!" He said.

"Right," Tim replied. "What exactly do you have in mind for us to make?"

"I'm glad you asked. Take a look at this!" he said while pointing to a gingerbread man recipe in an opened cookbook.

"No offense, but isn't this kinda basic?" I asked.

Harold scoffed, "This recipe isn't for any ordinary gingerbread man! This is for a giant gingerbread man!"

"How "giant" are we talking here?" Tim asked, making air quotes with his fingers.

"Seven foot. I want him to be standing on the float at the head of the parade!"

"Sure. That sounds easy enough."

It took over a week of preparation, but we managed to bake the gingerbread man in our industrial-sized oven.

When we finished the job, Harold thanked us profusely and gave us the weekend off. I was looking forward to a weekend of gorging myself on junk food and playing games without having to worry about school or work. This was short-lived, however. A few hours into playing Fallout 3, I got a call.

"Hey, sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you got a call from Harold?" Tim asked.

"I got one from him just now. I tried to answer, but he hung up before I could."

" So what? He probably pocket dialed you or something." I said.

"I don't know. What if something happened with the gingerbread man and he needs us?"

I sighed, "Aren't you jumping to conclusions?"

"Maybe. Let's say it has. If that's the case, he might end up calling us back in anyway. Do you really want to deal with him in his sulky mood?"

He wasn't wrong. Harold was nice enough. His only flaw was getting super disappointed when something major went wrong. I thought back to the time we messed up on a wedding cake order, and he barely spoke to anyone for a week. He got over it eventually. Man was it depressing to see him like that, though.

"Ugh, fine! We'll go and check. But if nothing is wrong, you bring me back home. Got it?"

"Will do. See you in a few minutes."

It was after eleven when we arrived. Sure enough, Harold's car was still there. Tim looked at me with a smug smile.

"Shut up. We don't even know if something has gone wrong yet."

"See anything?" He asked as we looked through the store window.

"No. Think he's in the back?"

"He could be. Let's see if the door is unlocked." Tim said, reaching for the door handle

Sure enough, it was unlocked. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until we noticed a scent wafting through the shop.

"Do you smell that?" I asked. "It smells like someone baked pork roast in here."

Tim looked incredulous, "At a bakery?"

We exchanged a look then dashed to the back. The industrial oven was on and smoke billowed out of it. Someone tied it shut. Quickly, I turned it off while Tim undid the ropes and then yanked it open. A blackened and charred body fell out. Even though he was horribly disfigured, we knew it was Harold. We both threw up on the spot.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I yelled.

"How did this happen?!" Tim asked, panicking. " We have to call the police! There's been a murder here!"

"Wait, where's the gingerbread man?"

"Who gives a flying fuck about a gingerbread man?! Our boss was roasted alive! And whoever did this to him may still be here!"

When we heard someone coming from the storage area, we realized that making a lot of noise probably wasn't a good idea. We tried to make our way to the exit, but as we did so, a tall figure got in front of us. Decked in decorative green and red frosting and gumdrops for buttons was the gingerbread man.

"What in the fuck?" Tim asked, softly.

"Run, run as fast as you can! I'll always catch you, I'm the Gingerbread man!" It said in a high-pitched, raspy voice.

"It's close enough! Now you two will do exactly as I say. Otherwise, you'll meet the same fate as him!" The gingerbread man said, pointing to Harold.

"So you were the one who killed him, you bastard!" Tim growled at him, grabbing a rolling pin. "Come on, Harry. This asshole is just a giant cookie. We can take him!"

I grabbed a broom that was resting by the counter. Tim and I rushed him. We didn't count on his fast agility and reflexes. He easily disarmed Tim and hit him across the face with the rolling pin.

The gingerbread man then attempted to do the same thing to me. Luckily, I was able to block the attack in time with the broom handle. However, that didn't keep him from punching me in the gut. I doubled over, gasping for air. Then he picked us up by our shirts and threw us against the wall.

" How is this all happening?" Tim groaned as we slumped to the floor.

That question was soon answered when a book fell from atop one of the cabinets and on my lap. We looked at it and saw that it was some kind of occult book. There were various runes scribbled on the cover and a bookmark sticking out of it. I turned to the page it marked and found the gingerbread man recipe that we had used.

"What the hell was Harold into?" I asked.

"More than you know," the gingerbread man replied. " He wanted the float to be perfect by any means necessary. He thought he could control me. Oh, how wrong he was. Don't worry, though. You'll both be joining him soon. Which means I'll be free!"

We attempted to stand. But he threatened us with the rolling pin. Tim was already bleeding from the last blow he took and I didn't want to see him injured further.

"Can't you let us go? Even if we tell someone, who would believe us?" I pleaded.

"You think I would go through all this trouble if it were that simple? Oh no, no, no! You two will experience the same pain like your boss and I did!"

My blood went ice cold.

"Hang on. What do you mean like you did?" Tim asked.

"I was alive before you guys put me in the oven. I couldn't move or speak, but I was aware and felt everything. Do you know how it feels to spend three hours in a 444-degree oven? Do you?! Well, now you will.

He began to walk toward us.

"Quick, Tim! Look through the book! Maybe there is something in it that can stop him!"

He frantically flipped through it and said, "There's nothing in the recipe and I can't read these symbols!"

The gingerbread man knocked the book out of his hands. He beat us with the rolling pin until we were too sore to move. Then, he opened the walk-in oven and threw us inside. It was only after he tied the lock with ropes that we were able to move again.

"So this is how it ends. Beaten up by an evil gingerbread man with a rolling pin. Then baked alive in an oven," I said.

"If we survive this, I am going to eat as much gingerbread as I can just to spite this dick," Tim responded.

"You know I can hear you, right?" The Gingerbread man asked. "I'll make sure that never happens! Now...Burn!"

He turned up the oven's heat. We braced ourselves for what was about to happen until we realized nothing was.

"What?" The gingerbread man asked, confused and irritated. "Why isn't it working?"

Almost as if in response to his question, we heard an electrical crackle followed by a loud pop. I began to laugh.

"What's so funny, asshole?" The gingerbread man snapped at me.

"The oven must have shorted out. We've been meaning to get someone out to look at it." I said, still laughing in relief.

"Gr...It doesn't matter! Rot in there for all I care!"

The gingerbread man grabbed the book and left the bakery. We could see the window from within the oven. Unfortunately for the gingerbread man, the weather was not on his side. Rain poured from the cloudy sky above. We saw him scream and try to run go back inside, but it was too late. He crumpled before he could reach the door handle.

"Huh. The weather was clear when we got here." Tim said.

"Whatever, let's call somebody to free us!" I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket.

We called the police. I was worried at first that we would end up getting blamed for Harold's murder. However, they couldn't explain how or why we would trap ourselves in the walk-in oven or our injuries for that matter. As far as anyone in town is concerned, his murder remains unsolved and his killer is still out there.

An officer found the book by the remains of the gingerbread man and asked if we knew anything about it. We replied that it was Harold's but that we didn't know anything else about it. After skimming through it and frowning, the officer handed it back to us. Despite what happened, the parade went well. Tim and I worked our asses off to make another, less psychotic gingerbread man in time for it.

Even though the town was devastated by Harold's death, everyone still had a pretty good time. Tim and I occasionally talk about what happened. We considered burning the book but figured there may be some useful things in it that we can use so long as we are careful.

Just remember this, cook your food before you bring it to life. Otherwise, you may end up like poor Harold.