In the Western Culture of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the femme fatale became a more fashionable trope, and is found in the paintings of the artists Edvard Munch, Gustav Klimt, Gustave Moreau, and the novels of the Frenchman Joris-Karl Huysmans. In A rebours are these fevered imaginings about an image of Salome in a Moreau painting:
No longer was she merely the dancing-girl who extorts a cry of lust and concupiscence from an old man by the lascivious contortions of her body; who breaks the will, masters the mind of a King by the spectacle of her quivering bosoms, heaving belly and tossing thighs; she was now revealed in a sense as the symbolic incarnation of world-old Vice, the goddess of immortal Hysteria, the Curse of Beauty supreme above all other beauties by the cataleptic spasm that stirs her flesh and steels her muscles, - a monstrous Beast of the Apocalypse, indifferent, irresponsible, insensible, poisoning.
In fin-de-siecle decadence, Oscar Wilde re-invented the femme fatale in the play 'Salome': she manipulates her lust-crazed uncle, King Herod, with her enticing Dance of the Seven Veils to agree to her imperious demand: bring me the head of John the Baptist. Later, Salome was the subject of an opera by Strauss, was popularized on stage, screen, and peep-show booth in countless reincarnations. Femme Fatale has also existed in the east. In Chinese myths, stories and history, certain concubines have been accused as being responsible in part for the weakening and downfall of dynasties, by seducing her lover into neglecting their duties or twisting him to her will. Another enduring icon of womanly glamour, seduction, and the presumed moral turpitude of the early twentieth century, was Mata Hari, an alluring oriental dancer, accused of German espionage and put to death by a French firing squad. As such, she realized the femme fatale archetype, and, after her death, became the subject of much fantastical imagining and many sensational films and books.
Mrs. Connor waited in anticipation in her living room after hours. The night was heavy with coal blackness. The widow was only dressed in a paper thin snow white silk night robe. Her lips were blood red. She was waiting for her soon-to-be- master. The widow had become dependent on him. Mrs. Connor couldn’t function a whole day without her new lover. He had become her everything-- air, light, life, and everything in between. If she went one day without him, the woman would go off the hinges. This was just as her master wanted her to be before he finally took her. All of the pieces were all falling into place.
Then at midnight, there came a knock on the door. The widow quickly jerked up her head. Her heart raced in excitement. “He’s here!” she thought happily. Then, Mrs. Connor rose to her feet, rushed to the door, and opened it wide. Edward stood on the other side smiling at her wickedly. He studied her closely in deep hunger. “She’s been waiting for me,” the incubus thought with sick malice. “How sweet!”
“Been up waiting for little old me?” he asked in a pleasant tone. The widow’s eyes lit up in complete joy. She rushed forward to embrace him. Edward let her do so for a few seconds. This was a perfect start to a perfect enslavement. Now, it was time to pull the guilt strings to reel her in. The alchemist lightly moved her hands away from him. Mrs. Connor looked at him confused. She noticed a sad look in his eyes. He seemed guilty about something.
“Edward,” she spoke up. “What’s wrong? You seem to be sad. What is the matter?” Ed looked away in convincing guilt. He had gotten so good at acting and lying. The incubus lightly moved her soft rose petal hand to his chest at his cold beating heart. The widow still didn’t understand.
“Edward,” she said. “What is the matter?” The alchemist looked away in convincing sorrow.
“Oh, my dear, Mrs. Connor,” he said at last. “There is something I have to tell you.” The widow was really lost now. Disappointment began to creep into her eyes.
“What do you mean?” she asked in bird-like concern. Edward lightly put his finger to her lips. He looked up at her with convincing eyes of misery.
“Sit down,” he said softly to her. The widow did so slowly. The incubus sat down with her. He kept his sorrowful convincing look. The alchemist had to keep his face in order to lure her into his arms for good. He took a deep breath and lightly took her graceful hands into his. The incubus looked deep into her lovely grey-blue eyes in sweet fake desperation.
“I have to tell you something,” he spoke up.
“What is it?” the widow asked him. The incubus took in another deep breath.
“I killed your husband!” he confessed with a false sincerity. The words sank into her head slowly. She didn’t know how to react at first. Then she smiled and shook her head.
“What are you talking about?” she asked in a light voice. “My husband died when that car hit him!” Edward moved her hands back to his chest.
“No,” he said quickly. “You don’t understand!” Mrs. Connor looked at him confused again.
“What do you mean?” she asked. Edward took in another deep breath.
“I was lusting after you,” he began. “And my friend agreed with me on my choice on you. But when I saw that you were married, I tried to back out. But then, my friend snapped his fingers and a car came by and hit your husband to kill him. And all because I wanted you.” Edward buried his head in her hands. “I’m so sorry!” he wailed out. “I didn’t want to hurt you!” That took seconds for the information to sink in. Tears began to form in the widow’s eyes. The incubus peeked from between his fingers. His plan was working.
“So, you killed… my husband?” she asked in a whimper. The alchemist slowly rose up his head. He nodded up and down once in a slow gesture.
“I loved you so much!” Edward confessed. “I never meant to hurt you! Oh God, Mrs. Connor! I am so sorry!” His almost-pet was close to crying now.
“You’re a murderer, Edward!” she wailed out. “A murderer!” The widow just cried hard. She laid her head onto Edward’s chest and kept crying. The alchemist lightly ran his finger through her soft blackish-red hair. He smiled to himself wickedly. The incubus had her in his grasp. Now it was time to seal the deal. Ed leaned in close to her ear.
“Do you want me to take the pain away?” he whispered to her softly. The widow nodded to him in blind misery at that question.
“Yes!” she murmured out. Edward kept smiling wickedly.
“Good!” he whispered to her again. “Let me do that for you.” Then the incubus tipped down to her lips and lightly kissed them. The widow’s pain slowly began to melt away. She kissed back quickly. They didn’t stop kissing from there. The incubus pushed her down lightly on the rich red carpeted floor. He lightly slipped his hands into her thin robe and felt along her soft skin. The widow trembled in desperate need. She needed Edward tonight more than ever. The woman held onto him tightly for dear life. Edward smiled as his hands moved down to the sash of her robe pulling it loose. She was just putty in his hands now. All he had to do was make love to her and drink her sweet blood. This was just too easy for a first victim! The widow moved her hands down to his pants and slowly undid them.
Edward was holding onto her tightly as he was pulling in and out of her. Mrs. Connor’s voice was too choked up in pleasure to even cry out. The incubus was making each thrust deep and pleasurable for her to enjoy before taking the first bite. His teeth began to form in as the visions of red and butterflies began to form in his eyes. It took all of his self-control not to bite into his lovely pet just yet. “Everything has to be just right before I take her as my own!” he thought. Mrs. Connor’s loud moan out drew his attention back to Earth. Her voice drove him to pump even faster. The black and red butterflies flew faster in his eyes. The beast of desire in his blood was extremely hungry tonight.
Within a few minutes, Edward just couldn’t wait anymore. He quickly bit down into the widow’s sweet neck. His pet cried out in a deep silent cry. Edward didn’t wait any time getting started. The incubus began to drink up the widow’s sweet-tasting blood. A new shock raced all the way down his spine. This was better than coke and alcohol. This was better violence and killing. This was even better than partying! Oh hell, this was even better than screwing! Edward quickly began to drink more of the widow’s blood. In the process, he saw everything about her again. Everything was there just like last time. But this time, Edward experience something even more with each thrust and drink. Her heart was pounding loudly in his ears. The sound was such an arousing treat. It drove the lovely monster to go even faster.
Her heart wasn’t the only thing that was making Edward’s own blood race even faster. The alchemist found that he could see the light of her soul. The incubus smiled to himself wickedly as he drank more of Mrs. Connor’s blood. “Her light is fading out!” he thought in excitement. He began to drink and pump even more because of it. The lovely monster wasn’t holding back anymore. His true violent desire-filled nature was exposed to his submissive victim in the late hours of the night. The sweat of his own body pressed against her in a smothering heat as he kept thrusting and drinking on with each second that was floating away. The woman under him was slowly going pale. Her breath was getting weaker and weaker. She was slowly letting her body go limp. The widow was slowly about to join her husband in the land of the dead. “He’s draining my soul out of my body…” she thought in heavy rapture. Part of her wanted to resist and fight back, but her gentle body had become too weak to even try. All Mrs. Connor could do was lie there and enjoy herself while her master helped himself to her body and blood in the deep midnight hours.
Edward let go of her neck when he came within her.
“YESSSS!!!!” he yelled out as he was grabbing onto his pet for dear life. The widow didn’t make a sound. She was too close to dead to move at all. The woman just looked like a broken doll lying naked and pale like a beautiful corpse in the fairy tale stories. Edward looked down at her lusting more. Her beauty made him hungry for more. He knew that he had to act quickly or he would lose her forever. The incubus bit deeply into his wrist enough to get it to bleed and placed firmly to her lovely mouth.
“Drink!” he ordered in a heavy voice. The widow did so without a second thought. Edward shut his eyes in deep bliss as she drank heavily. Another wave of ecstasy waved over his mind and soul in a heavy. This feeling could only rival the blood-drinking itself. He felt as if he was flying away into bliss. The widow just kept on drinking from his strong left wrist. More sweat formed on his body. The black and red butterflies began flying upwards and breaking into dust in his lusty eyes. The widow’s innocence was no more now.
When she had finished, Mrs. Connor let go of the incubus’ wrist. Edward himself collapsed beside of her in a deep happy bliss. Both lied there panting in the naked darkness. The alchemist turned to his beautiful creation with loving eyes. He had perfected her in every way. This widow was once innocent and pure. Now, she was a highly seductive siren. Edward just couldn’t help but to smile at his newly-made pet whom was lying next to him. A surprising thought entered into his mind. He official lost her original name. Her proper name wouldn’t suffice. He could only call her by the first name that he rarely even called her. It slipped right from his lips that very name.
“Santa…” he slurred out from being blood-drunk. The newly-made succubus turned to him with eyes of new loyalty. She was smiling at him as if to say that she liked being called by her first name now. Edward laid tired hand upon her lovely head. She was now his forever. Santa had new depth of darkness to the incubus’s soul. “I want so more!” Ed thought as he was sinking into a deep sleep. Santa cuddled close to his naked body.
“I love you master,” she told him a seductive voice. “I will love you now and forever.” Edward just couldn’t help but to smile at that oath. This was just too perfect for him.