Wow, is it really that easy to attract new readers and subscribers?! This is lame! So blatantly obvious that this is yet another strategy to get people to read your stuff. Damn it, and people fall for it... Desperate sheep! The Suff... What a title... I mean... It's catchy. It's good. Actually, it's a good idea.
I grab my favorite mint-colored tea mug, blow away the thick steam, and cautiously take a little sip of my homemade herbal tea blend of dried orange peels, cinnamon, rooibos, and lemon balm.
Through my windows in my sloping roof, I watch the canopies of the trees bend, shaking off the weak golden leaves as if to coerce them into dancing their last tango in the rain. A peaceful goodbye to the earthly realm, as the shadows herald their reign and envelop our lovingly stubborn little Alllein in darkness. What a beautiful way to transcend into the netherworld.
When was the last time I could enjoy listening to the most beautiful song of the crackling fireplace emphasized by the drops playing a soothing cacophony on the panes? It's been a while. Thank god Zhanna is not home until tomorrow evening! I'm not in the mood to think of what to make for dinner. And I really need some me-time and a good night's sleep.
Mesmerized by the scenery, a soft wistful sigh escapes my lungs as I look back at my screen and continue scrolling through Substack. Tonight is a good night to lose myself in a few captivating stories and maybe learn a lesson or two for my own writing. These peaceful moments are rare.
Oh, come on! This Suff stuff is everywhere! Like five stories in what... 2 minutes?! This can't be a real thing. Let's see...
My finger starts to scroll hastier as annoyance begins to taint the enthusiasm I felt a few moments ago. The posts' titles fly by without me even reading them. No, I'm not looking for interesting non-suff stories to read. I am scanning the explore page for more Suff stuff.
There are quite a few stories here. Where was that first post I saw?
I scroll back to the top and commence scrolling back down. But this time, pacing myself. Placing my tea mug on my wooden desk, I lean forward in my oversized black leather office chair why a shy curious anticipation. Title after title, I carefully make sure to not scroll past the post.
Here we go... Jeff Kinnard…What did he say? A document that mysteriously appeared and re-appeared after he deleted it? Kinda sounds like malware or something. Or some infected thing that got downloaded in the background... Let's look at the other posts.
The annoyance I felt a few moments ago is now replaced with a genuine interest that started creeping up my spine, unstoppably digging its sticky tendrils into my core.
A timeline? Oh gosh... This is ridiculous!
Wait what? Evidence of an ancient Amazonian tribe's contact with The Suff? Now it gets interesting. Now you've got me!
Hooked, I open a new browser window on my second screen and set out to look up every possible combination of "Amazonian tribe" and "The Suff". Everything that has to do with ancient tribes, lore, and otherworldly creatures and stuff is fascinating and seldom fails to catch my attention. I skim through site after site, cursing big online publications that paywall every interesting-looking article you open.
For a brief moment, I take my eyes off the screen and look at my mug. There is no more steam to blow away. There is no more fire crackling in the fireplace. Only the soothing song of the rain accompanied by an almost inaudible melodic, but strange sssss-sound. It must be my tinnitus...
Ha! What about the Internet Archive?
The hunt for information about The Suff drags me deeper and deeper into another realm. Time is of no interest. Like a madman, my eyes race over the descriptions of books and summaries of articles in hopes of finding even the tiniest hint about this creature. Police records, death announcements, mysterious disappearances or encounters. Nothing interesting in 1944. 1926 no results, too.
Oh, what is THIS?
As I open what feels like the millionth article, my eyes open wide and shivers run down my spine in waves. My body is one giant goosebump!
What the F! This can't be true! Finally!
The eerie article from 1912 unveils accounts by writers who claimed to have encountered a demonic entity named "The Suff," a creature that bestowed both brilliance and madness upon those who dared to uncover its long-forgotten mysteries. Whispers of Aleister Crowley's involvement in the summoning of this malevolent muse add an unsettling layer to the narrative.
Fueled by insatiable curiosity, I dive deep into the archives and traverse obscure forums unearthing bits and pieces of the twisted history of The Suff. In a feverish trance, I document my findings in a Google Doc, each keystroke a heartbeat in the symphony of the night…
Name: The Suff
Physical Appearance:
The Suff, despite its grotesque and horrifying exterior with twisted horns protruding from its head, emanates an aura of enigmatic benevolence. Its form is an intricate tapestry of unconventional beauty and haunting features. A blend of shadowy elegance and grotesquery, The Suff's body is composed of sinuous, ethereal tendrils that end in clawed hands and feet and move with otherworldly grace. Its luminescent, amorphous skin gives off a soft, gentle glow that shifts in color, reflecting the emotions it senses around it. The creature's deep-set glowing eyes which seem to pierce through the darkness, are pools of iridescent wisdom that convey a deep understanding of the creative human spirit. A serene and perpetual smile graces its mouth, revealing rows of pearlescent razor-sharp teeth that seem to glow softly.
Origin and Mythology:
The Suff's origins trace back to a lost Sumerian text that described it as a benevolent muse, a guide to the creative realms. Aleister Crowley, in his pursuit of esoteric knowledge, successfully summoned The Suff, transforming it into a benevolent mentor and teacher for writers. Unlike the traditional demonic entities, its purpose was to inspire rather than corrupt. Its origins are shrouded in mystery, with whispers of its influence echoing through the annals of history.
Personality:
He is enigmatic and secretive, speaking in a voice that seems to echo from the depths of the underworld. It is both terrifying and captivating, with a commanding presence that demands attention. Despite its monstrous appearance, The Suff possesses a benevolent and nurturing nature, seeking to guide and inspire writers to unlock their creative potential.
Goals:
His ultimate goal is to infuse the human world with a kaleidoscope of imaginative stories and vibrant creativity. It seeks to empower writers to embrace their innermost thoughts and bring forth a better future through their storytelling.
Motivations:
The Suff is motivated by a deep-seated desire to see the human world enriched with creativity and imagination. It thrives on the spreading lore about its existence, using it to infect writers with a flood of innovative ideas and artistic inspiration.
Abilities:
The demon possesses the ability to infect writers with a viral surge of creativity, unleashing a torrent of ideas and visions that flow from the depths of their minds. It can also manipulate the threads of creativity, weaving them into intricate stories and captivating narratives.
Role as a Teacher for Writers:
The Suff, though associated with dark rulership over creativity, assumes a paradoxical role as a benevolent guide and mentor for writers. It thrives on the spreading lore about its existence, absorbing the energy of creative minds drawn to its influence. Rather than infecting writers with malevolence, The Suff acts as a catalyst for inspiration, unleashing a flood of ideas that cascade like a benevolent virus through the creative process. Its teachings encourage writers to explore the depths of their imagination, transcending conventional boundaries.
Influence on Writers:
Writers who willingly embrace The Suff's guidance find themselves captivated by a surge of creative brilliance. The ideas that flow from this benevolent entity are not nightmarish, but rather visionary and transformative. The Suff imparts a profound understanding of the intricate dance between light and shadow within the realms of creativity, fostering a harmonious collaboration between artist and muse. The writers become vessels of inspired thought, their works reflecting a luminous tapestry woven from the threads of The Suff's wisdom.
The Suff's Haven:
The demon is said to dwell in an ethereal realm bathed in gentle luminescence, a sanctuary where shadows dance with the glow of inspiration. This haven is a serene landscape of surreal beauty, where the air carries the whispers of creative potential. The Suff's lair reflects its dual nature—an elegant palace of creativity within the shadows.
The Lore Spreads:
The Suff draws strength from the lore and legends surrounding it. As tales of its positive impact and mere existence spread, the creature grows in power, becoming a source of inspiration that transcends time and space. The very act of discussing The Suff or writing about it becomes a conduit for its influence, perpetuating a cycle of creative enlightenment that spans generations.
Conclusion:
Ultimately, The Suff stands as a testament to the dual nature of creativity—a force that can be both dark and light, inspiring and transformative. Its presence challenges writers to explore the depths of their imaginations and find beauty even in the shadows, reminding them that creativity is a delicate dance guided by the luminous grace of The Suff.
Oh boy, what a ride! Who would have thought that this Suff stuff is real... I should post it to my Substack. But I bet, people wouldn't believe me. Another fictional entry in an unofficial writing contest... What time is it?
As I lean back in my chair, an extended yawn escapes my dehydrated mouth, releasing the tension that has built up inside. My body, tense from writing, aches, and my joints crack as I stretch contentedly.
Oh my goodness! It's already 4:47 AM! Where did the time go? I need to go to bed now. This Suff post can wait.
Exhausted but exhilarated, I stare at my screen, basking in the twisted knowledge I've uncovered.
Ok, save. Don't forget to save!
Right when I hit the save button, my notes disappear, and my browser crashes.
Fuck! What happened? Where is it? Oh NOOOO!
Before I can drag my cursor to look for my notes on my hard drive, the screens go dark, only to turn back on again a second later. With Google Docs open.
Pheew... More luck than brains you fool! This could have gone terribly wrong. Hold on. These aren't my notes! What is this?
I freeze as I stare at the screen.
"Greetings Masha!
I have been following every keystroke you made and I must say, I applaud you for your relentless pursuit and the depth of your inquiries.
You have passed the test.
I accept your application.
Are you ready to start your apprenticeship?
The Suff"
What application? What test? What the freaking F is this?!
Panic surges through me as the line between reality and fiction blurs. The Suff's demonic influence, once confined to ancient texts and hidden forums, is now entering the real world.
"Shit!"
The only thing I can think of is to pull out the power plug.
ALL HAIL THE SUFF, DARK MUSE OF WRITERS
This was fun. I'm officially claiming the Suff as my muse. ;)