Author's Note:
I do not own the Ginger Snaps name, the movie contents or its characters. Only thing I own, currently, is the Michael character.
This is a story I had started back in early 2005, so the first 20 or so chapters I have are already written and are not likely to be changing. I'm hoping that I can get some motivation posting here so I can finally finish it off. The story follows the same timeline as the movies through the eyes of a third character, Michael, who only gets involved when the first movie would have ended. From there, I take the story progessing towards a different tangent. This is/was my very first fanfic. As such, some things might not exactly jive (certain small details or character behavior) so please forgive me. Replies are and always will be welcomed.
Rated M for profane language and violent scenes / imagery.
My name is Michael. Chances are that if you're reading this, then something has happened to me. Similar chance is that if you're reading this, you won't believe a thing I say. But trust me; what I have written in this journal is the complete truth. A record must exist of what I have seen and know that these things exist.
There is no way to ease you into this. The paranormal as we know it exists. I've experienced it myself. Myths, legends and rumors that are said out there, most of them are true. Magic behind them only contribute to a small portion of them. The majority of the unbelievable is biological in nature and can be explained through somewhat scientific means.
Let me tell you my story so far. I was only a child. I lived with my parents in a rural part of Ontario, Canada. One day, when I was 10, my life changed forever. It was late at night. I had been put to bed and my parents were still up downstairs. As I was just drifting off to sleep, a monstrous howl was heard outside. Normally, that wouldn't had scared me but that sound was nothing like that of wolves or coyotes that I had grown to identify. I heard a loud bang downstairs, like someone trying to break their way through the backdoor. Eventually, I heard the door give and my parents scream. Their screams still haunt my nightmares to this day. I had pulled my covers up, but I could hear my mother and father scream in fear and horrific agony for another minute before all went quiet. Finally, and slowly, I got out of bed and made my way downstairs to see if my parents were ok. They weren't. As I peaked around the corner, they lied dead on the kitchen floor as I saw two dog's heads ripping at their bodies. The only thing was, when I got a better look, both of the heads were on the same body. They were as black as night but their eyes burned a fierce red. Their sulfurous saliva dissolved their clothes and skin, smoking as they bit into their bodies. Scorch marks appeared wherever they stepped. The floorboards started to catch fire. It's hard to explain but I could feel pure unrestrained evil emanating from this monstrosity.
I ran. I bolted for the front door and ran as fast and as far as I could. I heard the howl again seemingly coming from everywhere, encircling me. The police found me unconscious on the side of the road heading into town, bloodied and caked in mud. My house was burned to the ground. My parents' bodies were never found. In later years, I found a description similar to that creature I saw that night. It was of Cerberus, the hellhound. Guard dog of the gated to hell in Greek mythology. It was my first encounter of the surreal and by far not my last.
I was shuffled from foster home to foster home for the next 8 years. Most of my earlier families found me to be too much trouble with my paranoid delusions, antisocial behavior and night terrors. I also had many therapists who kept arriving at the same conclusion. That I was witness to a traumatic event and wouldn't be able to proceed forward until I came to terms with the reality of it. What they didn't get is that reality had no part with what I saw. At least, not a reality of their knowing. I may have been fine if that was my only encounter. However, I seemed to be a magnet for the bizarre. With every new town I was sent to, something happened that I would have thought before to be impossible. A sudden string of strange and grotesque murders. Suicidal and homicidal animals. People with odd features or powers. Not to mention seeing creatures of impossible being, never before seen. Most of my accounts, that I told, were dismissed or tried to be explained to me. Though never said to my face, I've heard people call me crazy. Now I think that's just an excuse not to deal with what's out there. Of course, you might think yourself to be crazy when a man hangs himself every night for three months in your room.
Gradually, I stopped trying to convince others of what I saw. I tried to act as normal as I could and, because of that, people started to think that I was finally fine. I still saw everything but if they didn't want to believe me that was their problem. That was at about age 14. I kept my research into these matters secret. By the end of high school, I had become well-known for my knowledge of mythology and science. I found that most of the creatures out there could have a scientific explanation for being. Three main categories were disease/infection, genetic mutation or evolution.
When I turned 18, I had access to the savings my parents put aside for me. Once I graduated, I moved out. I had to find a place where these things didn't torment me. Even in the big cities, they were there. Driving all across Ontario, every city, every location, seemed to have their own demons, or creatures, or something and no one noticed that they were there. Such mass oblivion would be our downfall, I had begun to think. Yet another reason for me to be writing my account in life so far.