Ginger Snaps – Beneath the Skin
Note: This short story is based during an alternate 'Snaps' timeline, one were the events of the first movie played out differently. Ginger was not killed but had progressed far into her transformation which is now halted by the "Monkshood" formula discovered by Sam, the local green-thumb, and her sister Brigitte, who willingly infected herself trying to cure Ginger. It has been three years since that day and the three of them have since formed an unlikely trio, attempting to find a permanent cure while keeping the beasts within them contained.
Chapter One: Descent
Something was wrong. She could sense it and Ginger was pretty good at that these days. Sure, we all have senses right? The ones that tell you not to go down that dark alley, or to avoid that suspicious person. Nothing special, right? Try telling that to a girl who can smell you from three blocks away, or hear your very heartbeat from any where within the same room. No, Ginger's senses were something all together different from the average person. Then again, Ginger wasn't your average young woman.
Something was definitely off. She tried to focus, fine tuning her already razor sharp sight. Her eye's dilated, filtering the light, illuminating the images in her mind. Still nothing seemed out of place, not that it should. Her little "cell" called home didn't allow for such things. That should have been enough to reassure Ginger, but the feeling in her gut would not let her trust her own eyes. She kept searching, reaching out with the rest of her senses, holding her breath for what seemed like an eternity.
A slow, unidentifiable hum began ringing in her ears, building and building in intensity. Slowly the hum began to distort, doorbells rung in her head, tyre screeches swarmed in her mind fusing with muffled speech and laughter. A faint smell of perfume entered her senses followed quickly by the overpowering stench of gas and smog. In a coughing fit, Ginger snapped back to earth unsatisfied. Just another regular night outside for regular people, she alone barred from the world.
Still something bothered her deep down, and it bothered her more that it bothered her. Ginger's own body was not able to agree on the source of her dismay, as if her own flesh had become schizophrenic. Slowly she came to the only remaining conclusion left to her – she herself was wrong. Something wasn't normal about her. This thought caused her chuckle, then burst into uncontrollable laughter, amused at her own daftness.
Fuck Ginger, what on earth is normal about you any more?
Turning slowly, Ginger made her way towards a nearby mirror which hung flimsily from the wall. It along with everything in the room was pitched in darkness, but that never bothered her any more. She could easily see her own twisted reflection. It shocked her at first. For some reason it always did, even though she knew who the stranger was staring straight back at her.
In a combined state of fear and wonder, she ran a finger along one of her elongated ears, gently shifting her hair as she moved, itself a tapestry of fiery red and snow white. With the tip of her claw, she traced along the edges of her brow until it reached one of the protruding ridges that dominated her forehead. Relaxing her hand, she stared deeply into herself admiring her beautifully frightening features, especially her eyes, piercing blue, cold and alien. If they truly were the windows to the soul, then she assumed hers were skylights above the pits of hell.
She ran her tongue along her teeth, smiling evilly at herself while she did it, sliding it over the sharp fangs that protruded from her jaw. A stream of blood entered her mouth, her carelessness as always having been the cause. In the back of her throat the blood pooled, waiting to be swallowed if only Ginger would let it. But she savored the moment, tasting and breathing deeply the sweet aroma. Thoughts triggered by inhuman instincts entered her mind, feral and animalistic. Fantasies and desires played themselves out to her amusement, ripping and tearing into her brain before being suddenly expelled, her humanity rushing back. For such thoughts were not healthy for one in her position.
No, she had to control herself, be the good little monster, hidden from the world, all alone. Well that wasn't entirely true, she admitted to herself. She had Brigitte, dear little sister and last link to the outside world she almost didn't recognize anymore. Together they shared this terrible curse, but young B's condition was like a common cold in comparison to Ginger's current state. Brigitte was still able to pass as "normal", walk among the masses, be in the world. Brigitte was not here with her now, alone in the dark, climbing the walls. Ginger had to get out too, escape from her suffocating exile, at least for the night.
Sliding open her veranda door, Ginger stepped onto the landing and gazed down upon the quaint town of Bailey Downs from two stories up. It was a decent view for a town full of dead ends. The world outside was cold and dark, full of gloom and shadow. And to Ginger, ever so inviting. Carelessly bounding onto the railing, she let herself fall, confident in her honed abilities and strengths. Landing gracefully on her feet, Ginger discretely adjusted herself and slunk from the safety of her backyard and into the beckoning night.
Lured by some unseen force Ginger walked through the streets for hours, hood up and sleeves drawn to avoid unnecessary attention. The sky above was clear allowing the moon and stars to shine upon her as the cool night air attempted to strike her down in her tracks. But despite the jets of steam rising from her calm and consistent breath, the night's cold held no sway over her as she quickened her pace.
Lowering her stance, Ginger slipped off the beaten path and begun moving into the woods, hidden by their protective shadows. Her heart started to beat harder and faster although she felt no sense of exhaustion. Her hair began to stand on end, but she wasn't weary or frightened. Ginger slowly began to realize she was no longer walking. She was stalking. Fuelled by earlier tasted blood, deeply buried instincts were beginning to take over, controlling her subconscious thoughts and actions. The previously expelled desires returned to flood her mind again and again, compelling the beast within to launch an all out assault for dominance on Ginger's body and soul.
And it was winning.
Ginger tasted blood again. But this time it wasn't hers. Screams filled the air, accompanied by unholy growls and distinctive moans of pleasure. Blood flowed as pieces of flesh were slashed, torn and ripped away exposing what Ginger so desperately seeked. The shrieks of pain and agony died as quickly as they started, but the night did not grow quiet. Ginger continued to tear and feast, feeling the texture of meat and bone between her teeth and claws. Her brain exploded in ecstasy, axons flared and cells ignited threatening to destroy her mind completely. And she enjoyed every moment of it. Bliss reached all new heights, conquering all known previous joys and pleasures. For the first time since her transformation, Ginger was completely and utterly content.
With the beast inside her satiated, Ginger slowly pulled herself up from the still warm body beneath her, and looked down upon the life she had extinguished. A few minutes earlier it may have been perceived as a young woman, no older than Ginger herself. She would have been beautiful. She would have had a family. And to her surprise Ginger felt no remorse. No sadness. No pity. She felt nothing for her fallen prey. All she felt was herself, more alive than ever before, power coursing through her veins, herself an unstoppable force of nature. And she relished it.
Ginger now knew what she had to do.