To my beloved ones,

—¥—

People say that books tell a story that was forgotten long ago; that their ancient history would soon crumble beneath the weathering pages of an aging book.

Some would say that there is no such thing as fate and was written off as a fantasy story for children to read at night with their parents.

Most would say that werewolves were savaged beasts seeking the power of the full moon and kill under its light for fun; gaining strength and becoming more dangerous at night.

for power and immortality to live for all eternity; killing the lives of innocent

beasts. Craving the blood

myths; made up in the ink-black pages

they all

They're all wrong,

to believe and nothing can

pages of a worn book they wouldn't be able to handle the reality of their childhood fantasies coming to

childhood fantasies to come alive. They would prefer to keep the supernatural within the pages of books and go back to life how it was, keeping mother natures talents locked away within the ripped,

fantasies. Everyone knew it was impossible and unbalanced to God's creation. So then they wrote new chapters in their books; telling of how the supernatural were monsters sent from the depths of

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