The Haunted House
No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.
– the Haunting of Hill House
We are ghosts in our own houses right now, living something like a half-life: the grey, blurry days that stumble into one another without end, flickers of human contact blaze and fade away. We haunt our own living rooms and bedrooms, we rattle our closet doors and gaze outside our windows as we search for memories of better times.
There was never better time to craft a homage to the tropes of the Haunted House.
Bleeding Walls Perfume OilOut of Stock
Rivulets of gore obscure peeling, faded wallpaper, only to vanish just before reaching the floor…
Bubbling, sebaceous globs of black cherry, scabby dried red fruits, bitter almond, and cherry liqueur pushing through cracked and peeling velvet-flocked wallpaper.
Bookcase Passage Perfume OilOut of Stock
A shelf of ancient tomes silently glides aside to reveal a narrow corridor, shadowed and draped thickly with cobwebs.
Polished oak and mahogany, crumbling pages and cracked leather, all thick with dust and strewn with sandalwood cobwebs.
Cracked Mirrors Perfume OilOut of Stock
Glass crazed and blackened with age reveals fleeting glimpses of ghostly figures, here one moment and gone the next.
A blur of white sandalwood, orris, ambergris accord, and muguet passing behind shattered silver gilt.
Creaking Floorboards Perfume OilOut of Stock
Ancient timbers settling–or faint, uneven footsteps, drawing ever nearer?
Darkwood Victorian parquet floorboards faded with age, cracked and splintered, stained with the memory of spilled black tea, a cigarette burn, and blood.
Disembodied Malevolent Laughter Perfume OilOut of Stock
A cruel, gleefully malicious cackle echoes through the air, without discernible direction. Sometimes loud, sometimes faint, but never truly gone.
A distorted, cacophonous, and mirthless chortle: a hollow rumble of dark resins that rises into a shrieking crescendo of icy wine grape, white musk, and white lemon.
Doleful Pipe Organ Perfume OilOut of Stock
Discordant, scattered strains of a song, its melody half stolen by time, drift mournfully through the halls, accompanied by the rustle of spectral sheet music.
A dramatic and doleful scent: black oud and vetiver with burgundy pitch, guiac wood, opoponax, velvet black cacao absolute, and incense smoke.
Endless Corridors Perfume OilOut of Stock
Suffocating hallways stretch in improbable directions and distances, in defiance of architecture and physics.
A flicker of beeswax and candle smoke casting distorted shadows on a blackened panel of vetiver.
Figure in Attic Window Perfume OilOut of Stock
A pallid phantasm glimpsed through thick panes of leaded glass, easily mistaken for dust motes dancing in a single beam of moonlight: white frankincense, star anise, wormwood, and iridescent bergamot.
Flickering Lights, Fluttering Curtains Perfume OilOut of Stock
Furtive, fitful movements parody a house alive and alight with warmth. Gas lamps dim and flare; yellowing lace billows in the chill, still air.
Brittle smoked vanilla lace with yellow champaca, white cognac, davana, white amber, and chamomile.
Icy Drafts Perfume OilOut of Stock
A single, grave-cold finger, gently stroked the length of your spine: frosted eucalyptus, ti leaf, white bergamot, peppermint, and absinthe.
It Was Just a Cat Perfume OilOut of Stock
A scraping sound in the darkness, a scrabble of movement, the unnerving crash of a vase carelessly knocked to the ground.
A flash of amber fur skittering through shadows of opoponax, red labdanum, and myrrh.
Rickety Staircase Perfume OilOut of Stock
Once the grand foyer’s elegant centerpiece, now its winding curves creak treacherously, the handrail dull and splintered under decades of dust: fossilized amber crackling over dry oak.
Sinister Groundskeeper Perfume OilOut of Stock
A menacing figure in grassy overalls and mud-flecked boots, with a wheelbarrow full of sharp yet rust-stained implements. At least, it looks like rust…
Clods of moist soil, crushed dandelions, and the coppery clove-tang of dried blood.
Split-level Suburban Tract Home Perfume OilOut of Stock
A bland paean to domesticity, perfect and perfectly ordinary in every way – except for the whiff of unease creeping over the beautifully manicured lawn.
Fresh-cut grass and chalky drywall with the indole tang of something clammy underneath.
Toy-Strewn Attic Perfume OilOut of Stock
Physical and psychic artifacts of past inhabitants lie forgotten atop steamer trunks, limbs askew or missing, glassy eyes searching sightlessly for new playmates.
Cedar chests cracking from age, the sharp, metallic scent of rusting tin soldiers, dried leaves caking cracked porcelain tea cups, the shattered faces of china dolls and the tattered appendages of rotting cloth puppets, a glass eye gleaming beneath a dust-caked table, the rose-tinted tinkle of a ballerina dancing inside a music box that suddenly warbles as a rocking chair creaks in a darkened corner.
Unsettling Portraits Perfume OilOut of Stock
Dust and cobwebs drape from gilded frames like filmy shrouds over a gallery of leering, long-dead relatives: crackled amber resin, faded turpentine and torn canvas, pulverized frankincense, verdigris, and crushed malachite, lead white sandalwood, smoky umber, and lampblack.