Destiny Johanson moved to Pleasantville when she was sixteen. This is where her story begins. Moving to a new school was hard on her, but she tried to be positive, not an easy thing for a moody teenage Goth to do. A few weeks after she'd moved Destiny was trying to get her locker open. "Damn combinations," she whispered as she shook the locker door. A boy walked up to her, along with one who she recognized as Tommy--um, something...she couldn't remember because it had been a few days since she had heard about the hunky quarter-back of the school football team. The other was like her, a Goth. "You must be new. Trouble with your locker?" he asked. "Yeah. I've just never gotten the hang of combinations," Destiny answered. "Well, these lockers are weird anyway. No one can get them on their first try," Tommy reassured her. "Here, tell me the combination," the Goth offered. "Thirty-six, twenty-four, three," she told him as he spun the lock. The locker door came open revealing stacks of gothic magazines and spells taped to the door. A red amulet hung on the back wall-like-thing. "Thank you," she said, amazed. "I'm Destiny Johanson." "Merton Dingle. And this is Tommy Dawkins." He smiled. "Hey, we're going to on Friday night, you busy?" "No. I'll be there," she said. "Hey, what's that amulet for?" Tommy inquired looking at it. "Oh, it's just for protection. But it's also really pretty." "Protection from what?" She looked up from the amulet at him and smirked. "From werewolves."