I met a stranger in a dream. I'd been researching the Otherkin, people who claim to be elves, dragons, goblins, anything but human. Online, they are legion.
After a patient died, it became my obsession. What made him hunger for human flesh? Why didn't cameras record him? He said he wasn't human. The Otherkin knew why.
Oliver was a werewolf. "Therianthrope," he corrected me. "We're not all wolves." He only shifted astrally, in dreams. I asked him which was real, him or the wolf. "I am the wolf."
"If you're not human, what are you?" I shouldn't have asked during our first session. He didn't know and it drove him mad. Instead, I would ask, "Why don't you feel human?"
"I feel like there's something inside me and I'm the mask it wears. I'm the sheep's clothing." He loved that allusion. "Sometimes, the real me comes out and does... things. I want to stop it, but I can't because I'm not real. It's real... and it hungers."
Science fiction includes the hardcore, imaginatively embellished technological/scientific novel as well as fiction that is even slightly futuristic (often with an after-the-holocaust milieu - nuclear, environmental, extraterrestrial, genocidal). An element much valued by editors who acquire for the literary expression of this cross-media genre is the ability of the author to introduce elements that transcend and extend conventional insight.