"Ginger Snaps 4: Heavenless"
35. Pre-Trap
A half hour passed and she watched the possible pathways of the lycanthrope, anticipating its appearance and playing out scenarios in her head. From the most likely to the least likely, she encountered the beast time and again, and found that she couldn't lose.
The pre-hunt contemplation was obligatory at this point, she figured, as she had done this every time. It wasn't a sense of foreboding or her future predictions, it was simply the mood of the threshold that compelled her, and she didn't try to fight it. This was natural, as natural as the Fitzgerald girl now wasn't. This wasn't her first and, she felt more profoundly, that this would probably be her last. No, her first, she would never forget. She could still feel the wound ache, even though the bad curse had healed it, completely, years ago. It wasn't phantom pain, it was simply the memory of that tipping point that had shaped her life up until this point.
The wolf that had come out of nowhere. She remembered snapshots, vivid and clear. Breaking glass and how the glass shards seem to rain sideways. Sam's scream. Her father's arterial blood, gushing out of the punctured vein like a geyser, painting her mother red. Her mother's shrieks and how they were silenced by a claw to the throat and turned by the blow into gurgling sounds.
Why the wolf had left them be, her after a bite and in the case of Sam, after merely a graze, she would never understand. Even now, sitting on the porch of Barbara's cabin, waiting for the latest victim and that, in order to further victimize her, she didn't know. All she knew was that she had to leave Sam with the best remedy she could think of, pure silver, and search for a cure on her own. Her search had brought here to the here and the now.