Zot Musings

The Zot Next Door

What would you do if you accidentally found out your next-door neighbor was a preternatural? Say, a werecat. And let’s also say that if a zot is discovered, it’s instant death. Would you call the police? Animal control? What if the zot in question never bothered you at all, never posed any danger to you, or to anyone else for that matter? What then?  

What if that zot happened to be a relative? Your first cousin? Your aunt? Your mother? Would you call the cops then? Or would you go for the whole situational thing? “It’s okay to call the cops on my neighbor, but not on my mom.”

Whatch’all think?

My World And Welcome To It, VIII

Humans and zots have been warring with each other for as long as humans and zots have been around. It’s always us against them, whichever side you’re on. But just as always, there are exceptions to the rule. Witches and scrum are proof of that.

I’m a witch. That means one of my parents was zot and the other human. My mother’s an elf. She didn’t have to be, but she is. Anyway, human divided by zot equals witch. Sometimes. More likely the kid’ll be scrum. Human and zot genes don’t always mix very well. A good mix will get you a witch. A bad mix gets you scrum. And a really bad mix is better off dead.

So…witches. Too zot to be human and too human to be zot. Witches consider themselves zots, but other zots don’t see it that way. To them, we’re half-breeds. To humans we’re zots, half-breed or not. Whatever. Anyway, since zots as well as humans consider us suspect, we answer to neither. Witches answer to the ONE, the Source of All Things. And the ONE guides us in everything we do. ‘Course, some of the ONE’s ideas don’t go over too well. Like the deal we cut with humans wa-a-ay back when. “Humans, if you’ll stop killing us witches because we’re zots, we’ll protect you from other zots.” It wasn’t exactly like that but that’s how other zots saw it then, and that’s how they see it now. Anyway, I could give you the… Continue reading

My World And Welcome To It, VI

(Two young men walk into a restaurant with a cozy, homey feel to it.)

“Well, hello there, Vince. I was wondering when you’d get here. Who’s your friend?”

“Hey, Tina. This is Jack. Tonight’s his first time.”

“Hello, Jack. Hmm, Jack the Shark. Has a nice ring, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, real funny, Tina. Can we get something to eat now?”

(Tina laughs and walks away.)

“Dude! She’s knows I’m a wereshark. She’s a sniffer–I’m outta of here!”

“Yeah, and she knows I’m a weretiger, too. I–“

“What? Aw, Vince–now we’re really in deep…come on, let’s go!”

“Chill out Jack, will you? Relax–Tina’s one of us.”

“Uh?”

“One of us. I mean, you’re always going on about how humans treat zots like shit and all, right? And they do. But not all humans feel that way. Sniffers like Tina and like those plain, everyday ones over there. Humans like them think we zots deserve to be treated…well, like humans. And between them and us, we’re doing something about it.” (Vince waves at the restaurant crowded with zots and humans.) “Look around you. Every single one of us here tonight is doing something about it.”

(Jack looks stunned. Vince smiles.)

“Welcome to the revolution, Jack.”

My World And Welcome To It, III

My rebirth into a vampire was the best thing that could have happened to me.

I’ll never forget that night. The men were away hunting when our village was raided. We were snatched out of our homes and herded into the village center. They killed all the elders, then shackled us–the women, children and the few men who’d stayed behind–and marched us through the countryside. Many of us died along the way, including both my babies. My twins, in their sixth year.

We finally reached the sea where the biggest ship I’d ever seen lay at anchor. The night before we were to sail, my grandfather came to me. I thought I was seeing a ghost. He’d disappeared on a hunt many years before. He told me what would happen to us and said he could save me. But I had to trust him. I said yes–what else was I to do? The last thing I remember before blacking out was the sting of his teeth piercing my neck. I don’t remember much after that, just bits and pieces, like a dream. The only thing I really remember was my thirst. How it burned!

Then I just seemed to wake up. Grandfather was by my side, holding my hand. A crowd of strangers surrounded us. They stared at me. I was afraid but Grandfather held me, stroking my braids. I felt so weak. He told me many months had passed since he took me away and I was now a… Continue reading

My World And Welcome To It, II

Only thing ya need to know about us elves is that we kick BUTT. I’ve read some of those human stories–wise old elf, my ass. And what’s with those lame pointed ears? Looks stupid as hell. Buncha nancies, if ya ask me. I tell ya true–fuck with us and we’ll jack ya ass up. Big time. Personally, I like messin’ with humans. I just lay down some of my glamour, make ’em see something that isn’t there and then just sit back and laugh. Like the time I saw this couple in Magnolia Park. The dude was all over this chick. And she was lovin’ it. So I made him see her like she was a bloody skeleton. Motherfucker screamed like a girl and ran! I almost peed myself, I was laughin’ so hard. Still, I don’t mess with ’em too much. Don’t want no pogrom, ya know? See, there are some humans who can tell who’s human and who’s not. We call ’em sniffers. I mean, we don’t stink or nuthin’. They can just…tell. But we zots can’t tell the sniffers from other humans. So ya gotta be careful.

My World And Welcome To It

It’s tough to be a werewolf or any other kind of zot these days. You have a job, a mortgage, pay taxes, never run red lights and still humans try to kill you every chance they get. Take us werewolves. Humans refuse to believe we don’t consider them a delicacy. Honestly, they don’t even taste all that good. A human gets eaten every five blue moons but to hear them tell it, we chow down on them every day. When we do eat them…well, it’s like getting shot. They’re in the wrong place at the wrong time and there isn’t anything else to eat and we’re hungry. And that hardly ever happens, even in the cities. About the only time we kill humans is when they’re trying to kill us. That goes for all of us zots, not just werewolves.

Now don’t go thinking just because we’re all in the same boat means we’re one big happy family. Far from it. Some of us get along better than others but on the whole…well, we don’t. Still, there are times when we’re willing to put aside our differences and hang together–like when we go to one of Kurt’s raves and P-A-A-RTY! Or when there’s a zot pogrom. Then it’s all for one and one for all. Who wants to be butchered, for Garm’s sake? So in that sense, we kind of look out for each other. You see, there really aren’t that many of us. Say, ten to twelve percent of… Continue reading