Strictly speaking, "Succubus VHS" refers to the physical cassette tapes containing films about the legendary demoness who seduces men in their sleep. However, the keyword has evolved into a cultural signifier. It represents a specific aesthetic:

These are not the glossy A Nightmare on Elm Street sequels. These are the forgotten movies you saw advertised on page 42 of Fangoria magazine. They are the direct-to-video nightmares that the Blockbuster manager kept behind the black curtain.

Most often, collectors searching for this are looking for the cult horror film directed by Jesus Franco.

In the vast, shadowy catacombs of horror movie lore, certain artifacts hold a power that transcends their actual screen time. We’re not talking about studio blockbusters or Oscar winners. We’re talking about the grainy, pan-and-scan relics that lived on the bottom shelf of the local video rental store—the ones with the cracked plastic cases and the cover art that promised more than the FCC would allow.

Among collectors of weird media, one term has begun to surface with increasing urgency: The Succubus VHS.

To the uninitiated, it sounds like a specific film. But to the obsessed—the tape traders, the analog horror fans, and the nocturnal scrollers of eBay—"Succubus VHS" is a genre unto itself. It is a gateway drug to the erotic horror underground of the 1980s and 1990s.