Disclaimer: I don't own Ginger Snaps or its characters.
A/N: I once again apologize for the tardiness of my updates.
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The glow of the moon reflected onto the tops of the trees surrounding the school, creeping across the concrete floor to form a small path towards the greenhouse. The main building was covered in a light frost, the air whistling through cracked windows and broken shingles. The eerie silence that hung in the air was thick, broken only by a bird's chirp, echoing unnaturally. Bailey Downs was no longer a place where the local teenagers was smoke pot lovingly behind the school at midnight, escaping their mediocre fears and pressures. Now they hide in their homes, fearful of the real monsters that lurked in the night.
Then, a dark figure emerged from underneath the nearest streetlight, moving slowly and deliberately toward the greenhouse. Her hair obscured her face from view, gray strands of hair overtaking her natural brown. Her dark coat was stained with even darker blood, but none of it was her own, and it left small puddles behind her as she walked, the helm of her plaid skirt dragging behind her, ripped to near shreds.
Brigitte pushed the white door to the greenhouse open, striding past the assorted plants and such, a hand tracing lazily over the leaves. Her eyes were clouded with hunger, fueled with blood and lust and hate. She flipped her hair back, feeling more powerful than she could have ever had remembered. The awkward teenager that had feared others and kept herself mentally handcuffed to her sister had disappeared, replaced by a being that had more knowledge of real terror, and better yet, how to feed and control it.
She lightly tapped on Sam's door, her nails so sharp they dented the chipped white paint. She heard him jump up and rush towards the door, flinging it open. Brigitte noted, a smirk playing on her face, that he looked even worse than before. He was covered with even more reddish pimples, his hair was coated with sweat, and she thought she noticed the glint of sharp teeth as he frowned, taking in her appearance.
"W-where the fuck were you?" He looked worried, and gestured quickly for her to come inside. She strode past him, lightly brushing up against him as she moved, sitting calmly in the nearest chair, crossing her legs suggestively.
"I looked for you everywhere, I figured the police had dragged you away..." He went towards the fridge, pulled out a water, and handed it to her. Brigitte grasped the bottle, her fingers grazing his hand as she moved back. He took no notice, and began pacing around the room. "Well? What happened? Where were you?" He gestured at the red stains adorning her clothes.
"Having fun. You should try it sometime, instead of spending all day getting fucked up in a greenhouse." He faced her, and she felt his eyes read her, trying to discover what had actually happened. The silence in the room was deafening, a breeze lightly tickling the striped curtains as the sun just began to rise over the horizon. His expression was hit with a jolt of realization as his eyes traveled back to the blood on her skirt and coat. His frown turned to a look of horror.
"Brigitte, did you hurt someone?" She nodded, giggling. Sam backed up aganist the wall, letting out a frustrated groan. Brigitte responded by moving from the chair and crossing towards him, giving a mysterious, wicked grin.
"You don't have to be such a worrywart, I don't think I killed him. I just gave him a few cuts and bruises to complain about when the paramedics arrive. I guess he could bleed to death before anyone finds him -" She broke off, smiling broadly. Sam looked genuinely frightened off her, it was horribly entertaining for her to watch. "Aw, what's wrong? Want a taste?" She held a hand out towards him, dried blood decorating her thumb and index finger. She saw the smallest flicker of yearning cross his eyes, before they refocused and he shook his head furiously, as if he could eventually shake away his unwanted desires.
"Your acting like Ginger." His voice echoed across the room, and Brigitte felt an unwelcome shiver make its way down her spine. Why did she always have to be compared to her sister? Shaking it away, she stepped towards him, causing Sam to back into the wall.
"See, that's the thing about sisters..." She smiled knowingly, his breath tickling her face. Was it just her or did she see a flash of red dance across his eyes? "We're close."
He made another wasted attempt on evading her actions.
"Brigitte, your acting unlike yourself...It's the lycanthrope inside you, it's mastering your feelings and emotions. Remember what happened to Ginger...?"
"Yeah, she had a hell of a lot more fun then me when she caught the virus. Why can't we?" She leaned into him, her nose grazing his neck ever so softly as she took in his smell, which was strongly composed of blood. She felt the inhuman craving run through her veins like poison. Sam arched his head back, a sigh escaping his lips, but still refusing to lift his palms off the wall. They were so tightly fastened Brigitte doubted even her advanced strength could tear them from that spot.
"Brigitte, this is wrong. You can't let it control you...you have to-"
Brigitte stopped the nonsensical babbling by pressing her lips against Sam's. It was just a brief, tongue-less kiss, but it had Sam pulling away from her, wiping his lips wildly as he moved sideways, backing himself into the dresser. His arm skidded over the surface, causing papers to flutter onto the floor.
She watched curiously as he stood, his eyes fixated on the dark carpeting, a raging battle taking place inside him. Mixed feelings rushed through Sam's features like the pages of a book. His fists clenched and unclenched, and his eyes darkened with either anger or arousal, it was impossible for Brigitte to tell. She decided to push a little harder, hoping he would cave for her animalistic wants.
"Sam..." She ran her fingernails down his arms, causing red marks to fade as quickly as they had appeared on his skin. Sam's bangs obscured his face, and he was breathing heavily as Brigitte encircled his wrists with her thin, pale fingers, holding him aganist the wall. Brigitte daringly pressed into him once more, and with a sudden smirk and hint of glee, felt his resistance drop.
Kissing her furiously, he stopped the snickers she had let escape, and replaced them with breathless moans. They remained in the corner between the dresser and the wall for several seconds, molding into one another. She looked into his eyes, which gleamed onyx, a thin line of burgundy surrounding his pupils. He looked almost insanely angry, adding to her satisfaction. She had managed to completely release his werewolf side with a couple well-placed fingers and words. Brigitte grinded up against him, feeling him wiggle against the wall, his warm breath burning her skin as he kissed her again and again. Sam tugged at her hands, trying to break from the vice-like grip as his tongue hungrily explored her mouth.
He broke free with a growl, steadily pushing Brigitte back as the room become more incommodious. The back of her legs hit the edge of the bed, and with a forceful shove provided by Sam, felt her body topple backwards onto the cheap sheets, his own collapsing on top of her. She flushed, looking obliquely at him, desire only heightened further still by the movement of body against body, his erection pressed firmly against her thigh.
Hands adventured from the sides of Sam to roughly claw at his waist, digging her fingers under the band of his pants. She was unconcerned with the fact that his chewed and jagged nails were scraping over her shirt, causing deep cuts in the already torn fabric. They were gasping into each others mouths in a flurry of hungry hands, failing at anything that would be considered a half-decent kiss. It was quickly descending into an erotic mess of loose tongues and saliva, eyes burning in the darkness, their breathe heavy and harsh, adding a roughness to each exhalation.
The room was alight with the sun slowly rising over the frigid night, small beams of sunshine hitting the bed from the window. He tore off the remains of her shirt, making her giggle, a frightening sound that echoed around the room. Clothes were shredded and thrown, and all that could be heard were labored breaths and brief howls, causing neighbors to sit in their beds, ears twitching at the noises, wondering just how distorted their little haven in the world had become.
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The smell of Ginger woke Brigitte up, scorching through her senses like wildfire, her eyes springing open, her nose sniffing frantically. It was so powerful, she could feel her sister everywhere. The red slits of her eyes surveyed the room suspiciously, but sensed the thick, overwhelming smell coming from outside.
She advanced slowly from the bed, careful not to wake Sam as she pried his arm from around her waist, wiping locks of messy hair from her brow. Pain spread over her shoulder and neck as she moved, and upon closer inspection from the mirror closet to the bed, she saw her upper body adorned with various cuts and bruises. I knew he'd like it rough, she snickered, glancing at Sam, who was curled up under the covers. His mouth hung open as he snored, various gashes also decorating his body. Brigitte fluidly pulled on a pair of jeans from the nearby drawer and slipped on a t-shirt, quietly disappearing out into the late afternoon to follow the scent, giving Sam one last glimpse as she vanished from the room, leaving him to roll over uncomfortably, his sleeping form searching uselessly for her body to cling onto while he slept.
She had no further need of him.
The sun was bright, and she placed an arm over her head, shielding her eyes as she stepped outside. Why would Ginger comein the middle of the daytime? She had not quite reached the total sensations of being a werewolf, but for reasons unknown, the thick beams of sunlight were making her queasy. She longed to find a dark corner to curl up in, perhaps even throwing some meaty bones in the mix, allow her something to gnaw on while she relaxed. But the remaining shreds of the human life force in her body still tugged at her, she needed to see a last glimpse of her sister in order to finally surrender to the madness that still wrapped itself around her soul.
She followed the smell for a long time, her heightened senses spinning as it got thicker and thicker. Brigitte was finally led to the scene where the horror all began: the playground where Ginger had been bitten. No children hung from the monkey bars, or galloped noisily on the fake animals hustled on springs. The blue paint on the slide was fading and the old, cracked wood looked ready to collapse. The place was a little twisted children's ghost town. She tilted her head, a gust of air coming from the nearby forest alerting her senses. Ginger. She was inside the woods, she could smell her so well it was as if she had been sitting beside her. She caught a whiff of her blood and hair, stained with the faintest scent of whatever had made her Ginger once human.
"It's almost as if we're not even related anymore..."
The wind rippled through the trees, sending shivers up her spine. Brigitte made her way eagerly towards the gloomy oaks, her childish fear of the tall trees and dark bushes disappearing with her excitement. She would find Ginger, and they would remain inseparable. It would be just like old times, except they would be powerful, indestructible, fearless. People would avoid their presence or suffer the consequences as the tore the world in two, together again. Her thoughts spun wildly in her head, lifting her spirts to soaring heights...
Then she heard a noise. It sounded like the high pitched squeaks and cracks a little boy's voice would make if he attempted a laugh during the early stages of puberty. She swept around, coat billowing in the heavy wind. A figure, hunched over the swings, was giggling, the sounds erupting madly from his throat. A familiar scarf wrung around his neck, and he pointed at her, his finger beckoning her to come closer, his insane twittering still echoing in the air.
Jason. Ugh. That miserable twat, what the hell does he want now?
His sickening odor clouded her brain, leaving her irritated. She crept slowly across the pavement, leaves crunching under her feet as she advanced, growling. He pushed back and forth on the swing, rising slowly, the nails on his feet brushing lightly against the ground. Her growls escalated as a few more giggles burstfrom his throat. Why was he still laughing? Then she caught a whiff of Ginger. It stunk heavily on his clothes. Brigitte had considered simply settling the matter of him by ripping into his skull and tearing out his eyeballs, but now she stood before him, perplexed and furious, but unable to fight. Why does he smell like Ginger?
"How ya doing Brigitte? Wanna join me for lunch?" She looked closer, realizing that he had a mangled rabbit in his lap, the head completely ripped off. Jason leaned forward, taking a large bite of the rabbit's middle, his mouth coming up bloody, specks of white hair mixing in with various organs, making his appearance all the more disgusting. Brigitte licked her lips for only a second, ignoring the pang of hunger in her stomach. Perhaps after this was settled she'd find a neighborhood cat to snack on.
"Where the fuck is Ginger? You should be dead, I smell her anger all over you." He was coated in her fury, and anyone close enough to such an angry lycanthrope shouldn't be alive. She felt a bubble of agitation form in her throat."Tell me or I'll tear your limbs off." He clapped his hands loudly at this statement, a maniacal grin still plastered on his face.
"Aw, is Brigitte upset? No monkshood to calm those urges, eh? I'll help you work on some of the more entertaining ones, if you like."He gave her a devious smile, raising his eyebrows suggestively. She spat at his feet, teeth bared.
"Why the hell are you acting like this anyway? Didn't you take loads of monkshood to slow the transformation down? You look more like shit than usual." Jason's face immediately darkened, and he pulled the sleeve of his jacket up, wincing as the fabric grazed his skin. Brigitte peered over the space between them. The underside of his arm was littered with injection marks, and they were all red, strange puss and blood oozing unnaturally out of the dark holes. Her eyes widened in shock. Sam and her had been right, bodies rejected the supposed antidote as larger amounts were added.
"It stopped working." She sensed the shiver of fear that ran through his body. He may have been acting cocky as a way to intimidate her, but he didn't truly want to become a werewolf. He was still resisting the change that swept through their bodies, the change Brigitte now embraced and awaited. "That's where you come in."
She cocked her head up at him. His eyes burned a hole through her skin, but she refused to drop her gaze.
"I don't know one. And neither does Sam. I guess you'll just have to stick with being ugly and hairy...luckily your already ugly, so it shouldn't be much of a shock when the hairy part come in." The swing slowed to a stop, his feet grazing the ground, all the playfulness gone from his eyes.
"Listen here you bitch. I don't have much time left. The monkshood is useless, and I don't want to turn a furry freak like Ginger. I know Sam can come up with something else to fix it, so you better fucking find it."
Brigitte frowned. Jason was obviously desperate to the point of lunacy. Their was no way that Sam could find something, even if it did exist, in the time left allotted to Jason before he transformed. He was doomed. They were all doomed. She just wished those fuckers could get over it and move on, accept the incredibleness of which they were presented.
"Why the hell would I help you? Go find yourself a freaking cure." She turned away, preparing to vanish into the forest to recover the scent of her lost sister, when she remember it was all over Jason. She spun towards him. "What did you do to my sister?"
The grin was back on Jason's face. I wish I could tear it off.
"Ah, caught on have you? You see I just happened to have this large ditch outside of my father's cabin in the woods and Ginger just happened to take a fall in it yesterday while she was out roaming the wild. Now what do you say to finding that cure? Save yourself the problem of burying your sister?"
Brigitte's eyes looked over the woods, looking searchingly over the large mass of green. Her sister was in there somewhere, angry and alone, lying literally in a ditch. It looked as though this was going to be a bit more of a pain in her ass than she expected.
"Whose to say I don't just stroll down to you fucking cabin and get Ginger without giving you your special cure?" She crossed her arms, sharp nails tapping lightly on the skin of her shoulders, he features alight with rage. How dare that idiot capture her sister.
At that Jason reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a pistol. Brigitte backed up instinctively. She knew werewolves weren't invincible, and wasn't going to pretend so. Rays of sunshine shone through the bleak clouds to reflect threateningly off the shiny dark metal, causing the hairs to bristle on the nape of her neck. Jason stood up and out of the swing set, raising it up towards her, Brigitte's eyes fixated on the dark barrel of the gun, his finger hovering over the trigger teasingly.
"I don't think you fancy testing that newfound speed of your against this, huh? Besides, I'm faster than you without the advantages of a gun. One of the perks of being nearer to a lifetime of eating puppies and licking your own dick." He turned away from her, disgust framing his features."I want it tonight. I don't think I have any longer. Bring plant-boy with you, I won't trust the results if you're the only one who finds them-"
"I'm telling you dickhead, there is no cure-"
"Then I'll personally kill Ginger in the most torturous way I can think of, whilst you sit around and make goo-goo eyes with he-who-loves-pumpkins. I can do it, that bitch is the one that forced me into this mess. That stupid, slutty-" He cut off, his eyes returning to focus, checking his watch."You have until midnight, or she dies." Brigitte rolled her eyes. Jason was a walking cliche. Their was nothing she could do now though, she didn't trust her speed versus that of a bullet, and she didn't want Ginger to die. She had to regroup, figure out her actions, delay the delicious feeling of wickedness that threatened to devour her system until she sorted this ridiculous but still potentially dangerous mess out.
"Fine, whatever. See you at midnight." Brigitte turned around, briskly exiting the playground, leaving Jason to his own homicidal thoughts as he drifted amongst the deserted wood chips. The pavement slapped under he feet as she passed a little girl on her way to the playground. She had a jump rope in curled neatly in one fist and a heat-shaped face, blond hair curtaining it angelically. Brigitte noticed Jason eyeing her hungrily, licking this lips in anticipation as her light-up shoes changed colors with every skip of her feet. Brigitte, feeling slightly repulsed, grabbed the little girl by the hood of her pink jacket and spun her around, her twinkling blue eyes widening in surprise.
"See that guy over there?" Brigitte pointed at Jason, who scowled at her, realizing what she had done. The little girl, paralyzed with fear, nodded quickly. "He wants to rip your heart out and chew on it like it's a stick of bubble-gum. Now go home." She promptly let go of the girl's hood, and watched her take off back to wherever she came from , her innocent features disappearing as she turned a corner. Brigitte turned back towards Jason, a leer alighting her face, but realized he had vanished back into the forest, the only trace of him being the vacant swing set, moving slowly in the wind.
The next time she saw Jason, she'd make sure he got what he deserved for trapping her sister, she thought bitterly. She'd make him pay in blood. But first she had to have a plan.