Story:
Ah the smell of musty books at midnight. It always comforted me. Especially after a good rain. As I (once again) snuck into the restricted part of the library, I felt that familiar feeling again. Trying to brush it off I jumped down from the window and continued toward the shelf that contained the book I was looking for. It had recently been recovered from a condemned house. Supposedly it contained the key to intertwining all folklore. However no one would open it. "Too fragile" they said. Well I don't intend to let good secrets go to waste. Browsing through the books I finally laid eyes upon the intricate gold embossed spine. Just as I pulled the book from its resting place, I had that feeling again. Someone else was there. I grabbed the book and placed it into my backpack. " Time to go," I thought to myself. With a quick focusing I began to slowly change myself. First the fur. The brown coming in first and then the cream. Next the tail. Ah the familiar bushy weight was back again. Now the paws. The gentle feeling of control came back into my hands. After closing my eyes to adjust to the new feeling I could feel the presence slightly closer. It seemed to be unaware that I was there. Good. I opened my eyes to a completely new world. Finally I could feel the movements of nature again. I could smell the faintest hint of rosemary and peppermint. Ah the person likes aromatherapy. I decided that it was time to leave so I ran to the window and quickly jumped out. Wonderful another flawless escape. It felt good to be a werewolf again. I hadn't become one for ages. Too risky. I quickly transformed back with some pang of regret and headed back home.

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Back at home I was able to open the book only to find out that it was blank. Why me? So life went on as normal for another three or four days until he came along. He showed up under my study tree at three in the morning. Who the hell (besides me) is up at three?? Anyway , he abruptly stood up and faced me. His jet black hair hung almost mysteriously about his face. His fair skin reminded me of a beautiful cream colored rose and when he finally looked me in the eyes I found myself lost in his gaze. First in a deep green fields with small flecks of silver and then into a light blue also with pieces of that silver cloud lining floating around. Recovering quickly I addressed him. "Um, excuse me. You're kind of in my way. Could I get you to move?" His voice was rich and dark. "Only if you wish to relinquish the book you acquired." I gave him my best "I have no idea what you're talking about look" and began to walk away before he whispered "Arania" Now this needed to be taken care of. I spun on my heels and ran straight into him. Only it wasn't him. It was his werewolf form, and he was out for a fight. I quickly changed into my true form as he jumped towards me. Then I could smell it. Rosemary and peppermint. As we tussled in the grass I could hear him say ever so softly " I know you. And I know you have the book. Give it to me." As he pinned me to the ground all I could say was " Who are you?" No one had ever bested me in a wrestling match werewolf or not. As he stared into my eyes, a smirk spread across his face. "What?" I yelled. "You couldn't read it, could you?" Now that got me mad. In a flash of fur and teeth the roles had been reversed. But he wouldn't stop laughing. Finally I just got up and screamed, "Who the hell are you and what do you want?"
"I can help you read the blank pages"
"Come again?"
"All the secrets to our powers are in that book and I intend to get them. Care to join me?"
I considered his offer. Well, how else would I find out. So I took him back home and showed him the book.
He smiled and told me only one could do it at a time. Fine, whatever. I watched him very closely as he transformed and then pricked his paw. He gently laid his paw on the pages. Nothing.
"What?" he seemed distraught.
"Something wrong?"
"No, nothing. But I need to take this book." And with that he jumped out the window and disappeared, laughing hysterically. Then I began to laugh.

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Daemon returned home with his acquisition pondering the failure of his previous trial. He inspected the pages carefully and then turned to the cover. Nothing unusual. Then he turned to the spine and let out a howl that tears at the very souls of any living thing within a three mile radius. In an antiqued silver the spine read "Better luck next time."
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" Daemon, you may think that you're the king of mind-erasing but when it comes to acting I rule." I removed the book from its hiding spot and followed what Daemon had done. The next week I turned in one of the best term papers I had ever written. Werewolves through the Ages: Centuries of Folklore.
Later that week I "returned" the book to the library. It was then placed in a vault where no one was to enter for safekeeping.

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