%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
|
A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues. About "Life With A Werewolf" Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to. If this is your first time reading this...start here: https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack The first year is available as a compilation in print and on Amazon Kindle: https://a.co/d/gBLLL7E The first year is currently available on audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/B0G3SMJGFN/?source_code=AUDFPWS0223189MWT-BK-ACX0-482... My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| The streets were as dead as our hope. Andy lead me through the city streets, silently moving through sleepy neighborhoods that were napping through another day. We twisted down a side street, past a picket fence that emerged at a small baptist church on the outskirts of town. It was the kind of building that reminded me of several horror movies. The kind that has a bigger makeup budget than they have for acting talent. Whitewashed walls and stain glass windows overlooked a small green lawn that was prepared for weddings, funerals, or the vague creepiness that only a comedy monster movie could bring. Andy pulled into the new parking lot, and ushered me into the back and down a set of steps to a basement. One guy sat in the corner reminded me a bit of the Narrator from Fight Club. The other twelve were cops dressed for siege. The chairs circled a map stuck to a rolling bulletin board. Andy took his position by the map and began talking about what we were facing. The map was of that glorious town, Villaville. Red lines were marked through it, showing the ways around the flock cameras and the other surveillance methods The Nobility had. Someone had taken it upon themselves to purchase a Castle in Eastern Europe, disassemble it, and reassemble it here in our back yard. The castle itself stood on a hill, with large walls capable of thwarting a siege and high towers in the corners. It had an outer wall with an inner door that required the attacker to take a right and sprint a hundred feet or so before taking a left into the door itself. There was an open plain up to the castle with cheap flood lights attached to the top. The kind you could get from a hardware store for cheap and that activated at every bunny fart that it came across. All of that was backed up by a team of werewolves and humans, each ready and willing to kill anyone or anything that it deemed necessary. Or simply for sport. The defenses of Castle Heroux was impregnable without an entire military behind us. It would take mortar fire, missiles, drone strikes, helicopters and a couple hundred men to get inside the man-made fortress and save our guys. We didn't have any of that. Our county, like the surrounding counties, had SWAT equipment and gear including vehicles that could very easily siege the compound. But Alexandre and his angry army was becoming the official law in the land. Most of the local cops were, albeit very reluctantly, falling in line. So, all we had was twelve cops, each loaded with a couple hundred rounds of silver. Each very angry at what their communities had been turned into. And me. One werewolf. Andy waved the individual forward after laying out the castle grounds, the weapons and the materials necessary for attacking the castle. The small individual stood in the center, holding his hands in front of him. I heard his heart rate pick up. I smelled nervous energy. And I noticed the way he avoided looking anyone in the eye, his eyes going to the ground. "Everyone, this is Cornelius. Cornelius is the driver for his lordship." Cornelius smiled sheepishly. His scent spiked in nerves, but there was something else beneath it. A bitterness that I didn't like. He looked around at all of us. Then his eyes went up as if accessing the creative portion of his brain as he spoke. "There's a back door. It's reserved for us humans. The only way we're allowed in and out of Castle Heroux. It leads through the kitchens. Up a set of stairs and to the right is his Lordship's bedroom. To the left and down the hall leads to the throne room." Cornelius eyes fell on me for a brief moment before they cast down. There was a small, creepy sort of smile that he had in that moment our eyes met. I stood and began taking my shirt off, going down to my overalls. "What are you doing," Andy asked. "I'm shifting," I told him. Everyone stopped and looked at me. I hated doing this publicly, but it couldn't be helped. I tried my best to pretend it didn't matter. But every eye looking at me, the subtle way their hands went to their weapons, it felt as if I was a freak show in an ancient carnival. Cornelius stood his ground, albeit reluctantly. Everyone else took a subtle step back. "Do, you have to..." Andy began. I nodded, the shift already taking hold. I don't feel fur growing, just like I don't feel myself grow a beard. I felt skin stretch, almost tearing, and then thickening. Bones cracked then realigned. Teeth popped. It's like a full body muscle spasm that pulls joints out of place. It pops, it hurts, and then everything settles in again. The pain comes in spikes and leaves just as quickly. As I shifted, everyone listened to every pop and crack. Several winced as I doubled over. Then I stood up, reaching my full height. Pitch black fur, fangs, and eyes. I snarled and took a single step forward. The nerves on Cornelius spiked. I could smell it clearly in him, much clearer than in my human form. Every subtle shift in his scent. "What's the plan, Cornelius?" I stepped forward, flexing my hands deliberately, letting my claws shine in the pale, florescent lighting. He stepped back. Hands around me touched their pistols. I could hear their movements and tracked them with my ears. "This is still my jurisdiction until midnight." I told them. "I'm conducting my investigation. You get to watch." It was a warning I'd hoped they took to heart. Cause if they had shot, I would have had no chance of survival. The cops stared, some slack jawed, some grim-faced. But none interfered when I reached forward and grabbed Cornelius. My claws bit into his shirt easily. I made sure to ball the rest in my fist. I didn't need him dropping. Not yet. I lifted him easily with one hand, and pulled him to my snarling muzzle. The reaction was not one I was expecting. Most humans piss themselves when I do that. Cornelius gave us a bitter, painful laugh. "You don't get it. None of you do!" "What was the plan, Cornelius." He didn't respond. I turned and easily set him down in a chair in the center of everyone. My claws ripped the rest of his shirt away as I released him. His chest was covered in jagged, ragged scars. Places where thick claws had carelessly or even meticulously and intricately carved and sliced to maximize the pain. "You don't understand," he said, looking down. He smelled of true shame then. And also, true pride. "He can be violent. But he cares. He really does. He wants what's best, he just doesn't remember how weak and stupid we all can be sometimes. It's..." I could hear the cops looking at each other. A couple whispers echoed through the room. They died, when I knelt in front of him, and looked up at the man. "Dear, sweet human. It is horrible what you have suffered." He looked down at me, fear in his eyes. It was as if he was finally understanding where he was. And what my authority was over him. "We are to be your protectors, not your betters. A guard dog is not meant to rule." I snarled and drew my face close. "You aligned yourself with the wrong pack." "You talk as if I had a choice..." he whispered, looking down at himself. He pulled his head way and turned as I pressed my muzzle into his face. "I can and legally will kill to protect my pack." I pressed my heavy, now very large claws upon his shoulders. "That's enough," Andy shouted. "We do not..." I pointed at the cop, my eyes never leaving my prey. "You cannot interfere. This is how I police, Andy. He brought himself into my world when he aligned himself with The Nobility. He's now judged by a different set of laws." It was the first time I've ever heard angry, bitter, laughter. It wasn't crazed laughter. It was the laughter of those driven to insanity from pain, torture and torment. "You don't think his Lordship already knows? About you, about this?" Andy looked at Cornelius who had tears in his eyes. I stood up over him and growled deep. He shivered instinctively and drew away. "You're all going to die." Cornelius pointed at me. "You last. You get to watch everyone die first. It's his plan. Lord Alexandre always wins. You don't get it. Your born too low. Those built to serve always think they're capable of independence. It's so sad." I stood over him, raising a single hand with deadly claws. He didn't even look up. It was as if he wanted it. He wanted death. "Look at your sad society. You try to avoid it, but you hold presidents and congressmen up as high as royals. You worship movie stars and rock stars like nobles. You need your betters." He didn't fear the pain and death I could bring him. It would take hours to break him to the point of surrendering any useful knowledge, hours we simply did not have. There was only one thing really left to do. "Andy, I surrender my suspect to your laws." I turned and looked at the cop. "This human attempted to lead thirteen officers to their deaths. I'd say that's conspiracy." Andy nodded, and looked at another officer who handcuffed Cornelius and began reading him his rights. Andy was rightly pissed. "Shit, what do we do now." I shrugged. "Well, I think it's time for me to be the big damn hero." I waited until Cornelius was out of earshot to explain my plan. It wasn't a plan he liked. It wasn't a plan that I liked. It was a crazy, stupid plan. One where a thousand things could go wrong and blow the entire effort up. But, like Jason is fond of saying, a bad plan is better than no plan. So, we had to go with it. It could eventually work. I just hoped I'd be able to live through it. |
| Hey everyone. It's Crash. When I'd last left off, I'd gotten the list of places from Eleanor, but the phone call from the hospital had pulled me away. There was only one place I was going. I ignored every speed limit and traffic law to get to the hospital, arriving in less than four minutes. Two phone calls were made as I parked near the Emergency Room entrance. One to Elouise, giving her a couple of places to check and asking her to get Mitch to help. Then, as I walked through the door, I called Mitch and asked him to help Elouise. Both answered on the first ring and accepted without question. On the outside, you couldn't tell anything had happened. Manicured bushes and closely trimmed lawns. Those short trees that hospitals seem to enjoy near parking lots. On the inside, it was trashed. Slashes in the walls, blood trails of certain victims being dragged away. The sort of organized atrocity that could only be a werewolf pack. Most werewolf pack fights, as rare as they are, are hidden. The pack themselves make attempts to hide what they're doing from human eyes. The more humans that are aware of our kind, the more humans that are aware of non-humans among them. It becomes a monstrous headache for any government to handle. Someone wished things to be seen as a werewolf attack. It was as if they went out of their way to ensure it would be recorded and very difficult to cover up. Much of the damage was otherwise senseless, unless you thought about how it'd look on a social media site. It was just more disturbing evidence being piled upon a worsening time. We were truly at war, against an enemy who had thrown all of the rules that The Nobility had ever fought for or believed in. One who had no care how big the corpse pile grew to and who was buried beneath it. People like Jason, who had got caught up in the gears of all of this, for the simple crime of trying to do the right thing when everyone else decided to do nothing. His faint scent was mixed up amidst the coppery scent of blood, the peppery scent of rage, the onion tinted scent of terror. Every once in a while I'd catch a whiff of him. The strongest was at the door to the Emergency Room, but that made sense. They probably just wheeled his bed out the door and dumped him into a vehicle or stole an Ambulance. From there, all of the scents blended with the rotten blood scent of dead vampire. More than one vampire had died in the ER alone. It would have been far easier to just shift. The scents would open up then and come alive. But the human nurses, many of which had no idea about vampires or werewolves or the like, would have just become more terrified. Plus one werewolf stalking through the halls sniffing out a scent trail among the remnants of a battle? I wasn't certain how that'd go down politically, but it certainly wouldn't have made anything better for my boss, who was probably already having kittens over the hospital battle. After checking into every room in the lower floor that I could get into, I went up to the second floor. My hope was to find the scent of the werewolf that had taken Jason. To find some sort of evidence that tied him to something I could find. That way, I could get...Vic! It clicked halfway through the second floor. Vic had called me about Jason. I couldn't put my nose to the floor or shift, but I could call Vic. He could certainly tell me what had happened and who took Jason. If he was still alive, that is. The first call went unanswered. I shouted his name down the hallway and got a few confused looks from nurses and one janitor who was doing his level best to clean up the horror show. The second call Vic picked up on the fourth ring. "Stop shouting my damn name like Stallone looking for Adrian. Third floor. Burn unit. We're in the operating room." The operating room they were holed up in was in the center of the hospital. It had no windows and only two doors. Both sets of doors had armed guards in front of them. The security guards had gotten pistols from somewhere, and yes, they were loaded with silver. I was stopped by one guard, while another guard stepped inside to look for Vic. Of course, I wasn't allowed in. The guard, an older black guy, looked me up and down as if he wanted to fight me right then and there. "Hey, it wasn't us," I said. "I know, that's the damn problem," he growled. "You fleabags can't keep your fucking house in order and it's..." The doors burst open and Vic shuffled out. "Shut it Michael. Crash is the best werewolf I know. Please, go get me a blood bag. It is time for my lunch. Thank you." "I thought you hated eating in front of us," I said. "I'm too hungry to feel self-conscious. I'll cut to the chase, I can feel how frantic you are," he said. "Jason was smart enough to figure out their location from the start. If they hadn't gotten lucky with that bomb, none of this would have been possible." "Or smart," I growled. Vic patted my arm. "He's still alive." I nodded. "I know. But who knows if he'll stay that way for long." The security guard returned about then. He handed Vic a blood bag and kept one for himself, stepping back. I looked at him. "Don't worry, they're expired bags," Vic said. "We keep the fresh stuff for the herd and store the expired stuff for snacking." I gave him the smallest of a shrug and followed him as he limped towards the nurses station. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I just heard," Vic said. "I've been running behind for days. I haven't heard anything." He stopped. "I thought...so you're not gathering your pack and preparing to run?" "Why the hell would I run?" "You're out. Alexandre Heroux is the new protectorate." There wasn't an official title. It was part of how we did our business. Without an official title of office, there was no official paperwork for some human to stumble upon. It was point of the joke we always played on Jason in a way. There was no official paperwork. Just put the information down as best as he could, tell who needed to tell, log it in a memo on the computer, and shred the rest. Protectorate fitted him. It was official, and it sounded very noble. "I'm guessing he'll be calling himself 'Lord Protectorate'." Vic shook his head. "No, senators balked at the 'Lordship' title that Alexandre was reaching for." The vampires hand on my shoulder made me jump. I had apparently been gritting my teeth loud enough for him to hear. "I'm guessing every one of us is now illegal." Vic shrugged. "You will be soon. He takes power in twenty four hours." "If he lives." Vic had been sucking on the blood bag like a child sipping on a Capre Sun without a straw. He nearly dropped it at my statement. "You can't. That's...that's government. That's...they'll try you for murder. You'll be executed." He wiped his lip with the back of his hand and looked me in the eye. "War's over. You lost. Get your pack, go south. Regroup. That's what everyone else is doing." "I'm not everyone else." Vic grumbled and looked down. "Can you tell me anything?" "Villaville. Jason kept repeating it in his mind over and over again. Villaville." Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "Okay." Everything had gone to shit. It made sense that Boss wasn't calling me with updates. He was either making new negotiations or had grabbed his own pack and heading out. There wasn't much left for me. Not in that moment. My pack was taken. The Rodriguez, as annoying as they could be, had been taken as well. Hell, I'll say it. They're my other pack. The ones that helped me when it was just me, mom and dad. They gave a lone werewolf adolescent friends and a place to stay when he was learning how to be a werewolf. My entire life had been erased. And it was time that Alexandre learned there's a cost for that. I turned to Vic one last time. "Thank you. For everything. You've been a great friend." Vic nodded. "For what it's worth, we're all pulling for you in here. You're the last thing we got in this world before we're forced back to the old ways." The old ways. Vampires hated the old ways. Hiding in shadows, drinking blood from victims at night, running from us. It was a battle they lost repeatedly. A life they were more than willing to leave when negotiations started centuries ago. And look at what they had come up with? Much of modern medicine could be laid at their very feet. And Alexandre was going to run them off for that. I pulled my cell phone out and dialed Elouise. At first there was no answer. I called twice. Nothing. A third time, another's voice, a werewolf's voice answered. "Gator bitch can't come to the phone right now..." I snarled and hung up. My feet were sluggish moving out of the hospital. Villaville. Yes, that was where I needed to go. But, how was I going to attack? I was a lone werewolf in the midst of, well, an entire, now government sanctioned, pack. I sat in my car, preparing to start it up when a familiar cop car pulled up behind me. The cop that Jason called Andy stepped out and walked up to me. "This was easier when you had that shack you guys called an office." "Officer, I'm still the area's werewolf until tomorrow sometime. I'm on official business." I smiled. "Look at it this way, I'll probably be dead tomorrow anyway, huh?" Andy leaned on my door. "No, you won't." I looked up at him. "Silver is an expensive commodity to make into bullets, okay? Especially when you're trying to be quiet about it." "Andy, no offense, but a werewolf and a human still doesn't have much of a chance." He gave me a smirk. "What about a werewolf and SWAT?" I dared not to hope. I took a slow breath and released it before I answered to steady myself. "A lot of you will probably die." "Our job is to protect the public. Right now, that public includes you and yours. Besides, this bastard has literally destroyed a division of our own." I gave him a confused look. "Yes, our own. Your office, was police officers in their own right and with their own jurisdiction. What he did is a direct attack. And frankly, I'm a little offended you think we're about to sit back and let that bastard get away with that." "Okay," I said. "Just follow me," Andy replied. He pulled around my car, and began leading me through town. Wherever they were meeting, it wasn't the police station. As I drove through, I couldn't help but think of Jason. This was a him kind of a plan. One where he would come in and save the day with. I hoped and prayed that it would be enough for me to. |
| A hospital stay after being adopted by a werewolf was quite different from the previous two I've had. Hospital functions went on as normal, but this time I could tell which nurses were vampires and which ones were humans. The doctor I saw was more obvious than the nurses about his vampiric nature. There was a look in their eye. A glint that didn't look quite human. Canines that stood a head taller than the rest of the teeth. I'll give them this, though. They were a lot nicer to deal with than a vampire meth head bent on a strange version of global domination. After I'd woken up, I insisted they call Vic, Crash's doctor. There was some initial 'We wills' and 'I'm certain we can help yous'. After I refused to let any of them touch me less they drew back a nub, they finally caved. Everyone gave me professional courtesy, but there was a sideways glance they gave me when they weren't addressing me directly that said I'd already annoyed and pissed everyone off on the floor. I hadn't been awake a whole day yet, either. That's gotta be some sort of record for me. Much of the morning and part of the afternoon was spent with day time cable television. I wish they'd at least get a smart TV. At least I could have caught up on Succession or something. Cable Television is a river of stale ideas and reruns. Talk shows that make you wish for a good podcast, news programs that felt more like propaganda than real news, and of course, rehashed TV shows that were little more than old programs with fresh faces. The new Matlock, the new Magnum P.I. I keep waiting for them to reboot the A-Team and All In The Family. (If they have, don't tell me! Let me be blissfully ignorant for once!) It got very tiresome staring at the same four walls. to pass the hours, I attempted conversation with the nurses. Who were all to the one at least annoyed at me, and more than a couple looked as if they were plotting revenge. In other words, my attempts at conversation went about as well as you'd expect. Eventually I got a little chatter out of the two nurses taking care of me. But, I got the impression they didn't want to be included in the blog. Heh, too late. Since they don't want to be included, I'm going to just call one Nurse Frankenstein, and another Nurse Deetz. After Lydia Deetz from Beetlejuice. There was a strong resemblance with nurse Deetz, despite being a different race from Winona Ryder. Nurse Frankenstein held a resemblance in her bedside manner. Some people just can't take a joke. Or maybe it was the nicknames themselves that was the reason their needle jabs were extra hard after. I swear a couple struck bone. It was well past noon when Vic came in. I was so bored that I was actually watching "The View". Vic took a glance at the television, then snatched the remote and turned it off. "You know, that may be a sign of brain damage," he grumbled, then leaned forward, giving me a cursory exam. After poking a couple things, taking a temperature, then checking on the IV and machines he grumbled. "You're fine, you should be out of here by morning." Then, he turned to leave. I grabbed his sleeve to stop him. "That's not why I asked you here." He rubbed his eyes, exasperated. "I was afraid of that." He turned to look at me. "I'm not a psychic. This isn't a show. There isn't any crystal balls for me to stare into. I can't help you change the..." "It's not that," I said. "I need help remembering." He shrugged. "I can't do that either. If your mind doesn't have it, then it doesn't have it." I tapped my skull. "It's up there. I swear. I just need to piece a couple things together." Vic closed the door a little harder then necessary. I guess it was some sort of signal cause both Nurse Frankenstein and Nurse Deetz left us alone after that. Turning to me, he said, "You're requesting me to access parts of your brain that may be damaged. Your brain is a wonderful and complex organ that can adapt on its own given enough time. Those memories could come back." "I know that." I'd had enough Traumatic Brain Injury classes in military service to know what to expect. Mood swings, dizziness, fatigue, headaches, changes in sleep habits. The full works. "It's like a clue is buried somewhere inside of me. The key to solving the entire mess, however minor it may be. This key is in my memory somewhere and people are dying because I can't get it out. I know it." I clenched a fist as hard as I could. Machines started running faster. Beeping somewhere began to speed up. Through clenched teeth I said, "other people shouldn't die because of me. Innocent people. It's not right." Vic touched my ankle. I looked up at him, and he nodded. "I understand," he said. "But you must understand this. It isn't going to be easy on you. This could put you in a coma for a while." I smiled. "What, save the world and give my friends five seconds of peace? That's two good deeds in a single day! I'm caught up for the whole year after that." Of course he saw through my bravado. But he was gracious enough not to comment on it. He leaned forward and began to stare into my eyes. "You just relax. Find your revelation. I will read it from your mind and tell Crash." I was about to say thank you, but I was already locked into his eyes. They seemed to grow larger and larger. In the distance, I could hear his voice echo around me as he said "you're welcome." Then the room was gone. And I was standing in the office again. I had just called everyone over. Every coworker was in front of me. The ones who had inadvertently shielded me with their bodies and saved my life. It was a snapshot frozen in time. The single image from before bomb. I swallowed hard, and turned and looked at the cork board. The map of the county. The attacks. The singular spot. And then it clicked. Oh boy, did it click. It was as if every battle on that map had purposely led everyone away from that one spot. We were meant to think they were leading us to an ambush in another area. The memory of every yellow thumbtack circling the downtown of my hometown was a nice touch. But, it was futile. For they were purposely avoiding one large area. With one very suspicious town in the middle of it. The office faded away as if it was an image projected on smoke. But, I didn't need it anymore. Buried within my memory was a singular town name. A town that was basically a ghost town. Some company had bought it up a few years back with the claim of turning it into a factory site. There had been some speculation at the time on what the factory could be: automobiles, military parts and equipment, sex toys even. Nobody knew what a facility built over a town that held eighty people at it's height would become. The town's name, which I'll call Villaville here for the purpose of this blog, was in my memory. But, now, I was trapped somewhere outside of that memory. I was so far deep into my mind that the real world was only muffled sounds. Snarls. Growls. Gunfire. A battle was going on out there. Vic must have been distracted. And I was so far down. Could he have read the town name from my mind? Did he see it? I had to make sure. It was like swimming through syrup. The more I tried to climb to the top of it, swim to the surface of reality, the harder that swimming became. Light was breaking through. I couldn't see whole images yet. But I could see light! Another muffled voice. Vic's. "...you'll be safe. Hang on..." I swam up further. Light was getting stronger. Shapes began to form. I could barely see ceiling lights passing over head. The outline of Vic's body pushing the hospital bed. He was moving me. I started shouting the name. Well, I felt as if I was shouting the name, but nothing was coming out of my mouth. Just muffled mumbles. But, Vic could read minds. I prayed that he wasn't too distracted to read mine. I shouted the towns name, over and over again within my collapsed world. "Tell Crash Villaville! They're centered in Villaville!" It was the only place that made sense. Purchase a town with legitimate humans that "worked" with them (ones they probably controlled) and have them set up a shadow organization. Construction takes years, and they could easily have construction sites "fall through" on finances and just own the property if they wished. All the while, they build whatever they like, hide it behind dead buildings and bankruptcies. They had hidden in plain sight and bureaucracy while planning the entire thing. Such is the way of The Nobility. Such is the way they conquer. Outside, I heard furniture being literally thrown around. The snarls of a fight. I kept swimming, upward, fighting to get the word out. Fighting to tell Vic. There was a moment of connection, then...nothing. Vic was gone. Dead? Knocked out? I didn't know which. With herculean effort, I forced myself towards the surface. I felt a gentle touch on my cheek. It was a bloody paw. The glinting eyes of a werewolf looked down upon me. I was traveling in the bed...somewhere. "We sacrificed quite a lot to get you." The werewolf said. I sunk to the bottom of the syrup afterwards. I wasn't in friendly hands. And if they wanted to torture or kill me, I didn't want to be aware for it. Doors opened. The bed was shoved into a vehicle of some kind. Then the vehicle began to move. The last thing I remember before going completely out was wondering if it would hurt when they started. Wondering if I'd just wake up dead. |
un: 
View Portfolio
View Season Page
Visit Notebook
View Community
Send Gift Points
Send Awardicon
Community Feed
Puzzle Hub
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Writings
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Sheets
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
Workspaces
