How to Confront a Succubus

2009-09-23T01:05:10Z

How to Confront a Succubus
A Practical Guide for Kings, Captains of Industry, and Other Men of Repute

1. Prepare
    Remember to take stock of your enemy, as well as yourself, before any confrontation with otherworldly or ungodly forces. These are powerful host creatures that don't exist in any tangible sense, instead choosing to dance like spiders along the fabric that binds our divine consciousness to the physical realm. Through traumatic childhood events, corrupt morals, and diabolical ailments such as rabies, these dark agents are able to manifest their presence in the consciousness of certain humans.
    This holds especially true for succubi. They are pure beings of destructive desire and deep, violent shadow: that is their nature, and those are their tools. Just as a skilled hunter can create certain death from the benign arch of a strong tree, the succubus seeks to destroy you with the very things that define your spiritual landscape - your ambition and hopes, as well as your fears and regrets. Yes, even your very dreams.
    Don't be fooled. Know who you are. Know your limits but more importantly than that, know your strengths. You'll need them all. Know your loved ones, know your faith, know the path you walk down. Gauge yourself fully here, on solid ground. You'll be given no such purchase in the lair of the succubus.

2. The First Offense
    The succubus sustains life by feeding on the attention and positive energy of ensnared males. It is her only food, and her favorite drug. Succeed by depriving her of this nutrition and stimulus. Without it, she will whither and die.
    Exude an aura of self-confidence and grandeur. You have your faults as any man, but you own yourself and your soul, and with that knowledge alone you can stand before a succubus as a king in your own skin.
    To wither her power over you, you must demonstrate in action and thought that you are free of her thrall, and unwilling to give her any more of your power. Thus, beautiful though she may be - rapturously, agonizingly beautiful - never pay a succubus a compliment.
    Unless, of course, she doesn't seem to care that you don't care. That simply won't do, or your offensive clearly won't manifest. These things are really about belief and appearance, after all. Maybe let her know that she is wearing a very nice hat today, or that her skin - flawlessly opaline as always - doesn't so much catch the moonlight as reflect and enhance the very magical glory of that eternal, patient matriarch Luna Herself. Or that her hair is seemingly seamlessly cut from the very fabric of the night, or perhaps you could ask her the name of her fragrance? Ah yes, that's what she told you before, and yet the stores never carry it, only that you should stop calling or they will phone the police.
    If you say something like that, perhaps she'll reciprocate, by noting that your shoes have been recently buffed shiny with a toothbrush. Then your trap will be set.
    You will laugh, full and manly at her silly notions and quaint vyings for your attention. Only they never come, so you really are left with no choice but to seek out things to laugh at. Drop the pretenses. Call her out on her stupid bullshit. Pick a fight. When she responds with that feigned - that flawlessly feigned, I swear - shock and indignation, do not let up. If she gets up to leave, grab her wrist, keep her there 'til she knows how over her you are. Knows it as well as you know yourself, even. Succubi are not physically strong, you see.

3. Apologize
    Realize, ashamed, how ill-conceived this whole idea was. Clearly succubi don't exist. Of course they never actually existed, but archetypes are a powerful thing, and strong personalities recur in life and art. Or so I am told. I don't know. That's just something I heard. I'm not really an expert on that kind of thing. Beg her not to look at you like that. You truly meant no offense.
    It's amazing how full of yourself you are, really. You spend all your time around fawning admirers and too-loyal friends; it's easy to lose sight of the truth of yourself. You're not really all that smart, my friend. You've squandered your education and upbringing, and if your parents could see past their own self-love long enough to fairly evaluate your life they'd call you as you are: a failure. A posturing buffoon full of compounding lies and presumption. The only creature of illusion here is you, you ceaseless creep.
    Apologize. Promise her you will be nice. Ask after her family, old friends. Anything to keep her there a moment longer. Anything to wrest her eyes to yours again.
    Perhaps if you talk quietly she will lean in, and you'll be able to smell her hair once more.

4. Despair
    By this point she's left, of course. You goddamn fool. How could you have let this happen? Years of studious learning and critical thought, wise adjudication, and shrewd political maneuvering to get to where you are today, and in mere hours that contemptuous harpy tore it all down. You were a schoolboy all over again in her eyes, full of naught by pooling desire and promise unrealized.
    How? How did she do that? Damn the Gods!
    Now that she's gone, at least, you can think clearly again.
    Only, you can't. If she is a creature of illusion, then what are you? Eh, King? Without your trappings, without your wealth and the fear lent to you by your enemies and subordinates and the self-interest of your allies, what are you but a boy? See now that your world - indeed, all worlds - is built on painted lies so old and thick that no one thinks to question them. Except her. And now, you.
    How awful this is, to see the sum of your life stripped from you in moments. And worse than that, to know that no matter what you tell yourself, that you will seek her out, knowing your heart is already hers and all that remains is to watch her eat.
    Surely, this is what it is to die.

5. Revenge
    Seek her out. Vomit in grief when you discover she has met another - a man just like you when first she and you met, all those years ago. Consider the lad, see yourself in him, see what once shone in your chest and behind your eyes still burning bright in his soul. Hate him for it. Let your logic briefly determine that the worst punishment to render unto him is to leave him with the woman. With the devouring bitch. Watch your reason crumble as you contemplate that his only crime is taking her away from you; feel your chest cave in under the hypocrisy of your self-hatred. Worst of all, know in looking at the smiling boy that anything you could have offered to the lady death she already took from you, wholly and willingly, long long ago.
    The only tools she has left you with are your despair, your agony, your grief, and your rage.
    Grasp them. You have great work to do.

    Kill her lovers, past and present. Hell, kill all the men in her life - they would all presume to take her had they the stuff she craves. Kill her women, too; you know in your heart some of them shared her sin as long as you. Kill them all from envy, kill them all in mercy.
Keep her family alive, watch how their expressions change.
Look around you, at your palace, at the beauty you helped create. Lash out at the pain it causes you now, knowing it sustains her. Destroy your work, destroy your home, destroy your roads and your farms and your museums and libraries. Burn your kingdom to ash, and when you can burn no more fling the gates open so the vandals, thieves, murderers, and rapists - your new kin, so unfairly judged - can storm in and finish the dark work you've begun.

6. Don't Lose Perspective
    Remember to laugh. The insane, ear-splitting howl of mad, outcast dogs is highly therapeutic.

7. Triumph
    Stand on the foremost cliff of your tallest mountain. Look out over the horizon, blood red from the ash and horror roiling up from the plains below.
    Smile lovingly at your nemesis, bound blue and bleeding at your feet. She is truly a marvel, even as she cries so.
    With the serenade sound of killing metal roaring below, take her there, by force. Just as she ripped your best from you before, tear your worst into her now. It's all you can think to do. You hope people will remember you as a giver.
    As your new wings, leathery and slick, rip through the flesh between your trapezius and rhomboid major, recoil in horror at your lover's expression.
    She is smiling. Like an angel, she is smiling.

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How to Confront a Succubus