A SHORT GUIDE TO THE MONSTERS REFERENCED IN THIS BOOK,
EXCERPTED FROM
A GUIDE TO MONSTERS AND THEIR HABITS,
BY ELIZABETH CLAY
Alicanti (sing. Alicanto). The alicanti, or Aeriol complainus, are closely related to harpies, and may have evolved from the same prehistoric ancestor. The Aeriol complainus are known for their piercing shrieks, loud enough to pierce an eardrum, likely due to their preferred mountainous habitats, which require the mating alicanti to call for mates across vast swaths of distance.
Atlantic Firr (sing. same). Like the sloth, to whom they are closely related, the Atlantic Firr are sweet, slow-moving herbivores, although they have been known to eat insects for dessert or on special occasions. Known for a ferocious scowl that long made them an object of fear, the Atlantic Firr are actually quite easy-going. The directional pull of their wide, nearly toothless mouths is an expression of biological and not temperamental traits: due to years of sipping nectar and moisture from canopy leaves, their mouths are simply pulled into permanent frowns. Though once found across a wide range of habitats, from the jungles of the southern hemisphere to the rangy woods of Northern Europe, during the Middle Ages the Atlantic Firr were hunted to near extinction, when it was thought that consumption of their kidneys would keep a person safe from the plague. In fact, it is the Atlantic Firr’s salivary glands that produce chemical compounds nearly indistinguishable from today’s strongest antibiotics.
Baku (sing. same). The baku are an unusual variety of feathered mammal, once uniquely found in tropical regions. Due to their legendary sweet tooth, the baku’s habitats grew more diverse as a result of the explosion of the sugar trade, and the ships that often inadvertently carried stowaway baku in the cargo hold as they navigated the world. They are loosely related to a particular variety of Amazonian spiny tree rat, which likely resulted in the feathering that serves as camouflage when they are roosting—or hunting—high in the tree canopy.
Bogeys. Like the specter, the bogey cannot actually fly but only coasts on air currents, scanning for prey. Some have suggested a connection between the two, but this has been impossible to verify, given the difficulty of collecting meaningful living or fossilized specimens of either. It is likely, however, that bogeys are related more closely to succubi—their nourishment comes from a form of parasitic attachment that requires epidermal (skin-to-skin) contact, much like the succubi’s. It is worth noting, however, that bogeys do have a standard shape, although their biology is spread so thinly across a vast surface area that they are rendered translucent and nearly invisible to the naked eye. Given its lack of eyes, ears, mouths, or appendages, the bogey’s sensory apparatus was for years a mystery. Early nineteenth-century research, however, discovered that bogeys excrete a slimy, sticky substance from all over their bodies, with which they bond to host creatures, leave tracks for other bogeys, and perhaps attract their mates. Their Latin name, Mattahorn salivus, roughly means “drooling Mattahorn,” and comes from that of the unfortunate scientist who discovered this feature by volunteering as host for a bogey.
Bullieheads have the head of an ox and a small, burly build like that of a bulldog; they are herbivores and quite shy. They are herd animals closely related to the Capra aegagrus hircus, or domesticated goat, and do very badly when separated from the pack.
Carbuncles. So-named because of a stippled, knobby hide that resembles the painful dermatological condition, the skin of the modern carbuncle is a deliberate evolutionary adaptation in response to a shrinking habitat. The hide of an adult carbuncle is actually one enormous, striated callus, made as a result of long and painful exposure to volcanic or mountainous elements. Much like tree rings, the fine layers of a carbuncle’s hide may be separated and counted as a decent estimate of age. Ranging from just a few ounces to the size of a small raccoon, the carbuncles are often mistaken for rocks—until they shriek, show their teeth, or blink one of their dozens of heavy-lidded eyes.
Chupacabras. Variously described as resembling a dog or a large, scaled reptilian creature, the chupacabra has characteristics of both. It is indeed a carnivorous reptile, descended from a prehistoric genus of reptiles known as pareiasaurs, roughly the size of a large wolf. It is thought that chupacabras may have emerged as a distinct species due to a catastrophic environmental change, which might have also necessitated their move away from an herbivorous diet. Although associated in popular imagination with drinking blood, especially that of livestock, chupacabras are primarily scavengers. Because drought, however, is the chupacabra’s primary source of environmental stress, Monsterologists have previously observed mixed communities of chupacabras and zuppies, a cooperative relationship due to the zuppies’ ability to go without water. It is theorized, then, that chupacabras drink blood either for the limited hydration it provides or, more interestingly, to collect it for the zuppies in their pack, as zuppy teeth are too small to penetrate an animal hide.
Cockatrices. Described in mythology as an aberrant winged monster with a dragon’s tail and the head of a rooster. Advances in paleontology have discovered the quite obvious connection between the modern cockatrice and its ancient ancestor, the pterodactyl. Like other members of the order Pterosauria, cockatrices are flying reptiles, and have close relatives in various species of flying gecko.
Diggles are small, sociable, and do better in “stands” of three or four members. Covered in scales made of a ridged calcite, they are extremely sharp to the touch and look, superficially, rather like English roses, but with razor blades instead of petals. They molt their skins annually by exploding, and may be softened through regular application of warm milk-baths. Despite being terrible swimmers, they have relatives in the Paracentrotus lividus, or sea urchin, species.
Dragons. Almost innumerable species of dragon once existed, and there are still likely undiscovered species living in remote and jungle areas. Direct descendants of pterodactyls, dragons originally evolved in underground caves, likely as a result of an environmental or atmospheric disaster that wiped out most other dinosaur species. It is the retreat to subterranean caverns that is responsible for their definitive trait: fire-breathing. In the absence of oxygen, dragons became selectively aerobic, meaning that they do not require oxygen to live, and can instead metabolize other gases, like methane, commonly released by bacterial growth and hot springs underground. In the presence of oxygen, however, the methane in their metabolic tracts becomes an agent of combustion. When the dragon breathes fire, he is actually regurgitating gas; the motion of the dragon’s highly textured tongue adds just enough friction to generate a spark.
Dungaroos are so-named likely because of their resemblance to miniature kangaroos. This is a classic example of taxonomic confusion, related to the early naturalists’ habit of using recognizable and physically obvious traits to classify species, often erroneously. Dungaroos are in fact amphibious creatures and are related closely to the Lithobates catesbeianus, or bullfrog. Full-grown dungaroos reach thirty-five pounds on average, much of their weight concentrated in the musculature of an enormously powerful set of hind legs, which allow them to spring more than eight feet in any direction. Dungaroos have a peculiar method of ensuring gender equality: after gestation, the female lays two to three eggs directly in the “pouch” of the male, who will then hatch them over the course of thirty to forty-five days.
Fairies evolved around fifty million years ago from the very first species of flying bat. Although often imagined as tiny winged humans, the resemblance collapses up close. Their cranium (skull) is quite large, the rest of their facial features look much more feline, and their arms, legs, and hands—though elongated and hairless—show structural similarities to rodents. Importantly, they are a diurnal species—and, in fact, famously early to bed and late to rise—an important distinction that no doubt pushed their evolution away from the many species of bat. This no doubt influenced their dietary evolution, too—fairies feed on plants and nectar, and often build communities close to human gardens. Although in legend they can converse fluently in our language, in reality they are only mimics—much like certain species of parakeet, the advantage is in bond formation with the humans whose gardens and communities they have long depended on.
Filches are amphibious in nature, with tapered snouts, coarse fur, and an anatomy similar to that of a chimpanzee, to which they are closely related. They are, however, swamp creatures, and eat a varied diet of mud, grubs, and small fish, which gives them a famously identifiable stink. While known for “farting” regularly, these regular expulsions of gas are actually an important feature not of the filches’ digestive tract, but of its sensory mechanisms. Filches have poor eyesight and only decent hearing, but excellent depth perception and incredible mobility as a result. Recent studies have suggested they “see” in part by expulsions of gas particles, whose particular passage into space, or onto obstructing objects, is then detected through scenting.
Gnomes are not a singular species, but a genus, Ignomia, which includes more than forty different species and exists almost everywhere in the world. Their evolutionary divergence from other Hominoidea likely began roughly five million years ago, between the Mesozoic and Cenozoic eras. Ironically, despite a population of gnomes thought to number one billion globally, we have almost no fossil or skeletal records to guide us. All species of gnomes are characterized by a great capacity for camouflage and are thought to cannibalize their dead as a sign of respect.
Goblins are, along with trolls, a member of the Homo order diverged from humans roughly one to two million years ago, and still capable, in some cases, of reproducing with them. It is a broad family designation that includes multiple species, some of them nearly identical to humans: the Cobalus viridi, Cobalus silva, and Cobalus urba are three such examples. In humans of mixed goblin ancestry, the traits that express vary from individual to individual, and may even skip generations. One interesting feature of all goblins that have historically mated with humans: the physical development of traditional goblin features, such as emotional states tied to changes in skin color, a unique “three-ring” dental structure, and the decorative warts long associated with beauty and health in goblin communities, rarely show before adolescence. It is thought that this is a defense against early abandonment or attack by their caretakers.
Gremlins are a single species of carnivorous marsupials distantly related to the family Dasyurida, and most closely to the species sarcophilis harrisii, or Tasmanian devil. Unlike their Tasmanian cousins, however, gremlins are enormously widespread, comprising more than two hundred breeds, each with distinctly different personal traits and physical characteristics. Among the more populous gremlin breeds are the burrowers, solitary scavengers who make their dens beneath the floorboards or between the walls of human homes; the leonines, known for their tawny facial hair and sharp, curved teeth; and the shrills, the smallest-known gremlin breed in the world. Roughly the size of a rose blossom, their custom of affixing crowns of mushrooms and leaves to the tops of their heads makes for excellent camouflage.
Growrks are thought to be a North American relative of the sub-Saharan rhinoceros, although the exact evolutionary connection is unclear, and some have argued that in fact growrks might instead be more closely related to muskrats. They bear a superficial resemblance to wolves, except for their legs, which are short and jointed, like those of an alligator, and their tails, which are controlled by a complicated diamond-matrix of musculature and cartilage, giving them enormous flexibility and incredible strength. Despite their appearance, domesticated species make for loving and loyal companions.
Hippogriffs. Described in early literature as having the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a horse, and represented in mythology as a four-legged creature with a vast wingspread, the hippogriff and hufflebottom, to whom they are closely related, likely share the same prehistoric origin: a large, feathered reptile that lived somewhere between the Paleozoic and Mesozoic eras, with two powerful hind legs and four functional wings. One pair of wings is believed to have gravitated down the shoulder blades over time, as a changing climate meant the hippogriffs no longer had to migrate south in wintertime. Modern hippogriffs, though quite rare, share a diet similar to North American deer and use their wings only to escape detection, avoid predators, and enact mating rituals.
Hufflebottoms are found exclusively in northern climates. Like bears, they hibernate for roughly six months; unlike bears, their period of hibernation occurs from April to October. Their enormous girth is ill-proportioned for the four jointed “flippers,” evolutionary proof of their original wings, that in combination with their hind legs allow for clumsy locomotion on dry land, and much faster and precise speeds over snow, ice, and swamps. The hufflebottom’s dietary staple is the common snail; its long snout is exquisitely well-suited to sniffing out hibernating snails in wintertime and prying, sucking, or dislodging them from their hideaways. The period just before hibernation is known to monsterologists as “the frenzy,” a period in which the males court the females with snail shells they have collected all winter long. The female selects a mate by gorging on his offering. This is important, as she will gestate her baby during hibernation and give birth immediately upon waking up. It is thought that this mechanism allows mothers to rid themselves of the excess weight that limits their mobility; baby hufflebottoms are extremely playful, inexhaustibly excited, and difficult to wrangle.
Lionfish are, despite their name, not fish at all, but amphibians related to the bullfrog, like their cousins, the dungaroos. Their designation likely comes from the appearance of a colorful “ruffle” that appears during mating season, or in times of fear or challenge. This, in combination with a powerful, sustained “roar”—actually the motion of their hind legs, vibrating to form an almost mechanical rhythm—may be responsible for the “lion” in their names. Like many modern frogs, lionfish hatch first in water and pass through developmental stages similar to the growth of tadpoles. The development occurs over a much longer period of time, however, resulting in an adolescent mixed state in which the ruffle often emerges a few weeks before the legs have begun to nub. In this state, they are slow and cumbersome swimmers, and vulnerable to being fished. This is likely how the misunderstanding of their true biology began.
Mordrum live deep underground, near thermal springs that allow the refreshing of fungal growth thought to be a part of their diet. Little is known about these subterranean creatures, and fossil/skeletal evidence has provided competing indications about their evolutionary origin, as they have prominent biological characteristics of both bats and snakes. The mordrum have no eyes and see by echolocation. A fascinating tubular appendage is filled with thousands of ropy scillia for powerful harmonic expression. The sound of a mordrum in distress, for example, is often confused for a baby crying; a mordrum announcing a new food source, however, sounds very much like music.
Phoenix birds. Once so plentiful that almost every early human civilization had similar records of these majestic birds, phoenixes are sadly thought now to number somewhere between 1,000 and 1,500 globally. Although phoenixes are capable of spontaneous regeneration through a poorly understood process of combustion—it is thought that the act of dying might trigger a powerful release of flammable chemical agents, and that the fire somehow reverses biological damage to—and even aging of—the bird’s cells. It was not until the early 1800s that it was observed that the biological process relies on the composition of the bird’s feathers; tragically, the loss of vast herds of phoenixes is due almost entirely to humans, who for centuries trapped and plucked the birds alive, believing (incorrectly) that their feathers had healing powers similar to those of their tears.
Pixies. Like their fairy cousins, pixies likely evolved from the first species of flying bats, roughly fifty to sixty-five million years ago. Unlike their fairy cousins, they are a nocturnal species, and are covered in a fine fur known as pixie-silk; they are, as a result, more widespread, and more capable of withstanding the cold. Famously, the two species loathe one another, and fossil evidence indicates historical wars between them that culled hundreds of thousands of individuals on both sides. Pixies, too, are dependent on humans, in that they are scavengers. But perhaps due to their furry bodies, and to facial features much closer to the common bat, pixies share an uneasy relationship to humans and have resisted domestication. This is perhaps why pixies are known for being such troublemakers. The passage from adolescence to adulthood is marked in pixie communities by the organization of an elaborate raid on a human home. Tasks may range from stealing individual socks from a sock drawer, to emptying milk bottles or hiding a pair of reading glasses.
Sea Behemoth. The iconic image of the Sea Behemoth is a vicious, many-tentacled oceanic monster, squeezing a schooner in its ferocious grip. This is a warped portrait of the Gargantuan oceanus—a majestic, shy, and deeply intelligent species—and a reputational hat-trick perpetrated on the sea behemoth’s memory by the same people who tragically hunted it to extinction. The ancient Greeks, in fact, trained sea behemoth to tow their ships in times of adverse or windless weather. But several millennia later, its associations with the Ottoman Empire were to prove its undoing: the sea behemoth was, according to the Church, a maritime representation of the devil, and the Church declared open season on the creatures.
Slints are pack animals, found in forested regions of North America, South America, and Europe, with only slight variations in the species. Though averaging only eighteen to twenty pounds, and sharing many characteristics of a badger, to whom they are closely related, they develop an armored “shell,” similar to a turtle’s, in the first six months of their lives. Made of a secretion of calcium deposits, the shell enlarges their size by double or even triple, and additionally allows them to confuse predators (and monsterologists!) into mistaking them for rocks. Unlike their badger cousins, however, slints are extremely social and live in multigenerational packs—likely a result of their primary defense tactic, a rarely spotted phenomenon known as the “tuck and roll,” and also known as “bowling.”
Sloozes, Latin name Bilious caterpillarus, are an extinct species of gigantic caterpillar, the largest of which may have weighed nearly one ton. Whether the sloozes molted like a vertebrate or invertebrate is still hotly contested. It is not known whether their natural habitat was oceanic or simply amphibious, as there is fossil evidence to support both claims.
Specters are composed primarily of vapor, and are loosely bound together by a transparent membrane. They inhabit wet, damp places and are often mistaken for mist. Long considered one of the smartest species of the monster kingdom (Prodigia), their method of communication—or even thinking—is poorly understood. Recent findings suggest that all specters may, in fact, be a single body, spread out across the globe, and collecting, interpreting, and sharing data by a pattern of vapor transfer. In the 1850s, in fact, a controversial research project suggested that every ounce of rain is at least 25 percent specter.
Squelches have webbed feet and closely resemble ducks—at least during summertime, and from a distance. Their biannual pattern of growing fur just before wintertime, and feathers in spring, is unique and poorly understood. They are amphibious mammals, thought to have some connection to the Australian platypus. Their wide-ranging diet includes various species of insects, vegetation, and even small reptiles. They have flexible necks that can, when extended, reach four or five feet; these, in combination with a wide, shallow bill, allow them to scoop fish, frogs, and insects from the water. Despite their innocent appearance, they are one of the most dangerous monsters in the world. When they are confused or threatened, a small gland in the back of their throat releases a five-foot spray of poison.
Squinches, despite the similarity in their names, are entirely unrelated to the squelches, and in fact come from a different taxonomical order altogether. They are gliding mammals with relatives in both bats and species of flying squirrel; their spinal cords, however, and in fact all their bones, are made from a flexible tubing we have not yet identified. The squinch at rest resembles a small, furry globe, “plumped up” by a normal circulation of liquid through the flexible tubing. In this state, squinches move primarily by bouncing, often reaching heights of twenty feet and more. At that point, the squinches “shed” water, expelling liquid from the structural tubing that keeps their shape intact and flattening to the shape of a disk. This has two advantages: now weighing only a few ounces, the squinches coast easily on the wind, directing their movement by very small adjustments of their outer taper, or edge. Additionally, the liquid shedding leaves a residue on their fur that is particularly repellent to birds and owls that might snatch them.
Succubi are, in legend, demon spirits that take the form of women; in reality, they are small river-dwelling monsters that feed by attaching to an animal’s back via the suction of their oversize mouths, and slowly draining their “host” of nutrients. It is unclear how the association with females came to be, especially since succubi are one of the few large vertebrates that reproduce asexually and have no gender assignment at all. Although attacks by succubi on humans are rare, given their tendency to gravitate toward sparsely habituated places, they do occur. In the Middle Ages they were far more common, and it is likely that women, who were charged with washing linens and dishes, and often did so outdoors, in rivers or local watering-holes, were the great portion of victims. It is easy to see how over time the legend might have confused the victim for the predator.
Trolls have, until recently, been classified as members of the Homo genus and ancestors of the Neanderthals. For a long time after divergence from Homo sapiens, troll-human pairings were quite common, as suggested by fossil evidence. But there have been few, if any, provable modern examples of mixed troll ancestry. Nonetheless, we know that troll communities do exist, although the indications are rare and infrequent. Trolls are thought to have migrated into cold, mountainous regions more than two million years ago, due to a warming planet. As a result of the organization of human communities and advances in toolmaking and weaponry roughly 100,000 years ago, trolls began to “burrow” into camouflaged mountain hideaways, their habitat to this day.
Vampire bats are not to be confused with the subfamily of bat known as Desmodontinae, which share their name. They are not, in fact, bats at all, nor are they the undead of popular imagination. Likely descended from pterodactyls, and sharing features of their modern cousins the vultures, vampire bats were an important ally of early human communities. Carnivorous scavengers, vampire bats subsist off decaying animals: the gas triggered by the animals’ death is necessary to successful digestion. Before fire allowed for better weaponry and safer food consumption, humans were scavengers as well—but greatly at risk of consuming tainted meat, whose effects would prove fatal to many. Vampire bats served as important “testers” for our earliest ancestors. The safer the meat, the more gaseous it would make the vampire bats. The less they burped, the more dangerous it was. Over time, this early intermingling blended the communities more and more, until vampire bats began to take on humanoid traits, like walking upright and communicating with grunts and whistles. After the advent of fire, the species diverged, but the vampire bats, legendary mimics, organized communities of their own. Their understanding of tool use and fire slowly made fur unnecessary, and their wings superfluous, especially as humans began to herd animals and organize into bigger cities. Their language evolved into one as sophisticated as modern English. Some people claim, in fact, that Latin was originally the language of vampire bats. Today, although vampire bats still exist, they are indistinguishable from humans. They are not immortal, or undead, although the strength of their immune systems does give them lifespans of two hundred to two hundred fifty years.
Wailers are a deceptively harmless-looking species of reptile and resemble incredibly wrinkly gecko. Their skin flaps, also known as trumpets, serve two purposes. When individually “tufted” or raised through controlled breathing—the wailer’s “lungs” are in fact a complex system of interior valves and shutters—they function like sails, and help the wailer skim over the water at staggering speeds. But their primary purpose—and danger—is defensive. The wailer can inflate the trumpets by the simple act of holding its breath. The trumpets are so closely stacked that their trembling—a natural result of oxygen deprivation—creates an intolerable, rising, continuous note that soon reaches decibels so dangerous to humans it can lead to vertigo, memory loss, and even paralysis.
Werewolves are greatly misunderstood and have long been imagined as humans “infected” with a disease that transforms them into bloodthirsty animals at will. In fact, the truth is exactly the opposite. Werewolves are one of the most fascinating species that exists, with a collection of traits found in snakes (skeletal rearrangement, as of the jaw and spine), octopus (powerful ability to camouflage, by changing color and shape); and certain species of bird (mimicry, language). As a result, their evolutionary origin is still a mystery—some monsterologists have even proposed that werewolves do not exist as a separate species from the morpheus, and may in fact be traced directly to the kingdom Prodigia, from which all monsters originate. They are solitary hunters, and widespread across the globe, which perhaps explains the evolutionary necessity of shape-shifting camouflage. Although werewolves do occasionally, and briefly, take human form—often an exact replica of a human they have recently observed or interacted with, which explains where the legend might have started—humans are by no means their only, or even favorite, assumed shape. Werewolves camouflage themselves as sheep, deer, bears, and even large, domesticated breeds of dogs—any mammal, in other words, that shares a rough body mass equivalent. There is no connection between werewolves and the full moon, other than for mating purposes. A common mating ritual involves a series of rapid transformations, a kind of “talent show,” that will result in either mating or rejection. Unsurprisingly, this occurs by the light of the full moon, so the visual display can be appreciated.
Zuppies are often known as “zombie puppies,” although that term is misleading, in that it suggests all puppies might be turned into zombies, or the walking dead. Even the idea that the zuppies are, in fact, dead has for years been the subject of debate, although what is known is that the zuppy has no working heartbeat, circulatory system, or need for oxygen, water, or food beyond blood—or, in a pinch, carrion. The zuppy is actually derived from a single domesticated canid species nearly indistinguishable from that of Canis lupus familiaris, but thought to have diverged from them 60,000 to 100,000 years ago. It is thought that as some wolves began to be domesticated, others remained distrustful of humans, leading to the emergence of dogs and wolves. Evidence suggests, however, that a third class of wolves wanted to become domesticated, but were rejected both by human communities and wolf packs. It is likely that many of these wolves were the weakest, or even prone to sickness and injury. Because zuppies could not find protection in a pack, and were too weak to hunt successfully and too unattractive for human companionship, they developed into scavengers. This, too, was dangerous, especially as humans exploded across the globe—they were often associated with trash and filth, and trapped or put down. Interestingly, the zuppy is the only species whose defense mechanisms include dying. Other species may mimic death, but the zuppy actually dies—sometimes, of course, due to injury or sickness, but other times voluntarily, to avoid periods of starvation or to deter predators. It is thought that reanimation, which becomes possible only because of deliberate care and feeding, permits the zuppy to “survive” via dependence on its caregiver. In other words, the blood provides the chemical nutrients required to animate, given that many of its essential needs before death—such as scavenging, biting, chewing, escaping, finding shelter, digesting, regurgitating, etc.—are no longer required, nor are the biological processes or organs they depend on. The zuppy, in other words, now requires only the brain, and only certain parts of it. The rest of its organs are thought to decay into a kind of sanitation system, which passes blood directly into the rest of the brain, after “digesting” it into the necessary chemical components.