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The Forbidden Archives: Wolf Walkers, Werewolves, and Wendigos

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Matt looked at the questions in horror where did this come from he usally check everything cause of glitches that ruined my games Matt thought it through maybe it was just a skip over?No impossible it must have a cool magnet attached Matt observed it more but didn't see a glimmer of a steel alloy used.What a neat trick Matt thought and looked for anything else that might identify the trick used."Uh"Matt sighed."better answer the questions"Matt said.

Matt relised that the person standing in front of him proboly had some type of trigger to it.he asked the man"Did you make the extra form appear or am I just going crazy"Matt replied.Matt relises he won't get an answer and walks inside.



this will be edited

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Sweat dripped down Colette's shoulders and brow as she worked on beating up her punching bag. Her strength and endurance were exemplary for a girl her age, partly why she had won so many national awards. Her ability to win most fights came from her skill, which was taught to her at a young age, and her ability to read her opponent. It didn't usually take long for her to pinpoint a weakness. She takes measured breaths, only really breathing every time she is forced to dodge the bag whenever it sailed towards her. Her father stands behind her with his arms crossed. He barks orders at her, demanding improvement on her smallest mistakes. She hears a faint knock at the door but manages to ignore it. She doesn't stop until a hand clasps her shoulder.
"You've received a letter," her father tells her. She turns around and accepts the letter. She isn't surprised to see that it was already opened. Her mother stands next to her father. She was clearly unable to hide her excitement.
"I've gotten a scholarship?" She announces. She couldn't help but sound confused. Her? For what reason? Her parents automatically start celebrating, but their cheers sound distant to her ears. She is unable to fathom why she of all people would receive a scholarship. She was in no way shape or form book smart. On top of that, she was known to be a troublemaker. Why would they take a chance on her? Hmph, this place looks far away. Any place is better than here. She forces a smile on her face, but other than that, she shows little enthusiasm.
....
The man that met her was certainly strange. He went by the name James. He seemed friendly enough, but still, she couldn't help but feel cautious about this strange man. With her thoughts going wild, she almost misses his request to read the letter further. It dawns on her that there was more to this piece of paper. Her brows furrow at the questions. "What is this?" She asks.

---

Lewis had since arrived at the supposed meeting place, examining the letter further as she was told. It was nearly a whole half hour before somebody else showed up. Hearing the new person, she looked up from the book in her lap, though Where the Red Fern Grows was quite a good read. The newcomer seemed slightly suspicious talking to James, the man who had met Lewis at the door as well. Watching for a moment, she decided it best not to interfere.


---



James smiled, quickly answering the question. "It's just a bit of required information, as you've been selected to join us. Cornelius offers this to every newcomer, but it's their choice to either fill it out and step in, or leave it and walk away." His smile remained, his hands linked carefully in front of him.

Matt sighed and filled in the piece of paper and walked inside

When in the school building Matt speculated over the new words.He tried a lot of methods but ended up with blank after blank after blank.Matt lost hope and gave up and opened his laptop.He started on his project of making a code that is simpler than Javascript.

He worked for hours until his mobile hot spot died he sighed and plugged it in"I hope I make it to the end of the school year"Matt muttered to himself.this was a once and a life time obligation if he passed he could get a good job and send money back to his family who were waiting in Japan just cause people were rich there didn't mean people weren't poor. he hoped his family was alright trying to feed his 9 brothers and sisters.

---

She doesn't have to think too hard about this. She can either step into a world that is far away from her parents and receive free education or return back to the grasp of her parents and continue, quite literally, fighting her way up the social ladder. She smiles and grabs a pen out of her haversack (basically a tiny backpack that usually hangs onto the hip.) "I've come a long way to just turn around and run away at a moment's notice. I'll just fill it out over there" she nods her head towards Lewis, noticing that there was a free spot by her. "Excuse me" she politely dismisses herself and walks the short distance over to Lewis. Noticing that the girl was reading, she does her best to not distract her as she takes a seat and begins to answer some of the questions. Her plan ultimately fails, as she is forced to loudly scribble on the corner of the paper in the hopes of drawing up ink. She quietly curses to herself for having the dumb luck to have a pen that is out of ink.

---

Glancing up, Lewis smiled a bit. "Here," she said, holding out a black pen. Where it had come from, Colette might never know. Unless, of course, she looked down near Lewis' feet, where a satchel sat on the ground, propped upright by a few more thick books. But the pen had a visible amount of ink in it, more than enough to finish a form. Lewis herself had no clue why she carried so many writing utensils around with her until somebody requested one, where she realized that she was the only person who really carried enough for more than herself. Oddly, she found that, no matter what, somebody would always need another pen or pencil during the day.

"Thank you," Colette tells her kindly. She accepts the pen and to her satisfaction, she can actually write on the paper with it. She finds the questions were straightforward, far easier than she anticipated. She had no reason to panic earlier. It doesn't take her long to finish the form. When she's done she gives the form to James and then sits down in the same seat. She leans back onto the chair and places her legs on the desk. She stares up at the ceiling, her impatience was clearly written on her face. The desk nearly topples backward under her bodyweight. She leans forward just enough that the desk will no longer be halfway up in the air, which makes the desk fall back onto the floor much louder than she intended. "Hmm, here's your pen back," Colette tells Lewis as she holds the pen out towards her. She nods towards Lewis's bag, noticing the large books next to it. "Why do you have so many books? Do you like reading?"

---

Lewis accepted the pen slowly, a small "Thanks" escaping her lips. Hearing Colette's questions, she glanced down. "Oh, I just think it's a good pastime. James says there's supposed to be more people coming, so I thought it might be best to just read and wait. Do you want one? I'd gladly let you read one, if you wanted to." She had a bookmark in one hand, as she had for a while. Though, the hand was moved slightly, ready to place the bookmark between the pages if needed.

Colette hesitates. She had never enjoyed reading. Still, she had to admit that reading would be far more enjoyable than sitting here staring off into space. Who knows when the others will show up? "Yes please. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it." She finds that she was quickly starting to like Lewis, she had a feeling that Lewis could be a great potential friend. "I'm Colette by the way, but you can just call me Cole. What's your name?"

---

Lewis quickly marked her place and shut the book, setting it aside to bend low and grab the two large books. One was titled, For Whom The Bell Tolls, and the other was titled Robinson Crusoe. Setting them on the table, she smiled. "Take your pick. I'm Lewis." She sat back and grabbed Where The Red Fern Grows again, opening it and scanning the page quickly to find where she left off.

After pondering on both titles for a moment, Colette decides to read For Whom The Bell Tolls. (Dang the description is super interesting :o.) It easily grabs her attention and while she usually dreads reading, she finds that she is actually enjoying the book. This says a lot, because she was a slow reader, so she wasn't too far into the book.
As she reads she silently mouths each word out loud. A childish habit she never seemed to outgrow. At least she is quiet now, and not causing trouble or distracting poor Lewis from her book.

---

Title: Becca Bayrn

Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk
I'm a woman's man, no time to talk
Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around
Since I was born
And now it's alright, it's okay
And you may look the other way
We can try to understand
The New York Times' effect on man

As the subway rumbled underneath Becca's feet, her head nodded in time to the music and the cords of her headphones moved up and down as well. She began rhythmically tapping her foot in time to the music, interrupting the strange, almost vibrative feeling of the metal car passing through as her well worn Nike's sneaker lifted into the air. Her thoughts were completely away from the world, trapped in her own fantasies. As she got more into it, a goofy grin started to spread, little by little, across her face, and she started to hum along, attracting some strange looks from some of the other passengers. With her eyes still closed, she had no idea that she looked more then a little strange, with that wide grin on her face and her humming along to music no one else could hear. But, when Becca was absorbed in her music, she didn't have a care in the world.

Eventually, she was nearly thrown out of her seat as the subway halted at her stop, breaking the serene feeling of living in her own little bubble. Her earbuds fell out, the old iPod wrapped in royal purple duct tape from the time when she was a kid and thought that playing "I Belive I Can Fly" while jumping off the high trampoline into the freshly cut grass would give her ability to fly, skittering across the ground with a loud crash. The cords bounced wildely, pinging against the tactile patterns of the metal floor of the subway as it landed at the feet of an older woman. "Oh no, I'm so sorry m'aam," Becca apologized over and over again, as she quickly picked up and replaced the earbuds in her ears, wincing and quickly dodging as people began moving out of the subway. "Ouch, sorry, excuse me, that's a very nice heel," Eventually, she was able to straighten up, grabbing her bag. She couldn't belive that this time, she was coming back from the library, and carrying her ratty old knapsack that had been a gift from her grandfather a few years back, instead of a heavy leather backpack filled with what seemed like hundreds of textbooks. Three weeks before, she had actually graduated! This meant college, and sports, and an entirely new world to explore.

Becca moved down the sidewalk, enjoying the steady thump of her shoes hitting the cracked sidewalk as a beat to the music that still blasted in her ears. She couldn't resist, and spun around a little, her hand smacking the metal pole of a stop sign, letting it shake slightly and ring out. Before she knew it, she had reached the apartment. An old habit from training for sports, she took the stairs one at a time, though her long lanky legs would allow her to take them two at a time. The music kept going, not even a tumble across a subway floor damaging the hardy speakers that had lasted ever since Becca was a kid. She reached the apartment that she shared with her parents. She knocked in time to the music, still bouncing on her feet and the same goofy grin on her face. Her mother opened the door, and Becca skipped in. It took her a moment to realize, as she threw the bag onto the couch, which, given that the apartment was rather small, didn't take much of a throw, that her mother was trying to get her attention, tiredly waving her hand in front of Becca's face. One hand reaching to remove the earbuds, and the other to play the music, she asked, "Yeah, what's up?" Becca, being a normal person, expected the tired, I've-been-working-all-day-and-I-can't-deal-with-this-answer to be something along the lines of, You didn't do the dishes,, Clean your room, or You forgot to call us after you got out of the library! (The last one was more frequent then you would think. Becca self-conciously patted her back pocket, giving an almost auidble sigh when she realized that it was still there. Of course, some small part of her was hoping that all that time in sports had gotten her a scholarship, but it was small enough that she was surprised when her mother said, a smile growing, "Becca, you've been chosen for some sort of..honor roll?"

"I'VE BEEN WHAT?" Becca's jaw nearly dropped to the ground in shock. "You're serious?!" She was sitting at the kitchen table, and her eyes, in an almost dramatic, comedic fashion, went from the paper to her parents, then back again. "You're serious. Oh my gosh. What even is this?" Her father sighed, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to be honest, kid, I really have no idea. Your mother and I weren't even expecting a scholarship for you, but-" He stopped at Becca's hard, slightly angry look, a complete coinflip from earlier. "Seriously? What did you expect out of me, a job at some fast food resteraunt?" "Well, err, yes!" Becca's mother laid a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Steve, Becca, please." "No! I'm going to this honor roll thingie-whatever it is, and I'm proving that just because I had made one mistake, it doesn't mean that I can't come back!" She stormed to her room, slamming the door and nearly shaking the entire apartment. A muffled, "Sorry!" came from inside.

...

Becca had finally arrived at the meeting place, this time blasting Dancing Queen at the top volume. Now that she had left the house, she was in a much better mood. Despite her arguments with her father, Becca always managed to bounce back quickly. What else could she do? All that she could do in life was bounce like a rubber bouncing ball, because that's literally what they were made of. She couldn't bounce like a plastic bouncing ball, now could she? Wait, was that possible? Before long, Becca realized that she had made it to the place that had been specificed by the letter. Right. Great. As she removed a earbud, the nervousness was starting to set in. "Right. Letter. This is the place. And yoouuu'''reeeee..." the last word was stretched out as she not-so-stealthily reached for the letter, checking the name. "James. Right. Okay, Hi, er, it apears I'm in the right place. What were the questions I had to answer?"

---

James gave a kind smile, nodding at the blue envelope. "They'll be found on the inside of the container. Just tear it at the seams and fill them out with a pen or pencil." Allowing Becca to pass by him, James closed the door and stood near it, hands once again delicately held in front of his belly. His face seemed blank as he waited, though a few select sounds could be heard from his area. Small clicks or shhk's, as well a the occasional whirr. It seemed that, as long as there was nobody at the door, he would stay this way.

Title: Becca Bayrn

"Inside of the container, tear it out at the seams, pen or pencil. Gotcha." Becca quickly passed by him, finding a seat by herself and doing as directed. She took a minute to dig through her knapsack for a pen, one hand akwardly clutching the opening of her sweatshirt pocket to keep the ipod from falling out, in the process nearly spilling the contents of the knapsack evreywhere. She managed to find a pen, clicked it once, and set to writing. Becca wasn't really the best at writing, her prowess mostly being sports and athletics in general, but she was able to fill out all of the questions without missspelling anything, thank goodness. She put the earbud back in, and as she worked, started to hum along loudly, oblivious to the fact that there were other people around her.

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