A Look of Peace Perfume OilOut of Stock
As I looked, the eyes saw the sinking sun, and the look of hate in them turned to triumph.
But, on the instant, came the sweep and flash of Jonathan’s great knife. I shrieked as I saw it shear through the throat; whilst at the same moment Mr. Morris’s bowie knife plunged into the heart.
It was like a miracle; but before our very eyes, and almost in the drawing of a breath, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed from our sight.
I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of final dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I never could have imagined might have rested there.
Rage and bloody exultation dissolving into divine stillness: white sandalwood, palo santo, rosewood, and lavender.
A Wicked, Burning Desire Hair GlossOut of Stock
There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips.
Champaca orchid, blood musk, lily-white gardenia, orris concrete, oakmoss, glossy black patchouli, and frankincense
All Souls Perfume OilOut of Stock
A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes.
All the Meaner Things Perfume OilOut of Stock
He can, within his range, direct the elements; the storm, the fog, the thunder; he can command all the meaner things: the rat, and the owl, and the bat—the moth, and the fox, and the wolf; he can grow and become small; and he can at times vanish and come unknown. How then are we to begin our strike to destroy him? How shall we find his where; and having found it, how can we destroy?
A thundercrack of ozone and moist, salty fog. A flap of leathery wings, a cluster of bark-brown feathers, and skittering, chattering black musk.
Apple Butter Rum Perfume OilOut of Stock
Spiced rum with cinnamon, apple butter, nutmeg, and thick vanilla cream.
Apple Sugar Perfume OilOut of Stock
Winesap apples and golden sugar.
Are You Digging on my Grave? Perfume OilOut of Stock
Ah, are you digging on my grave
My loved one?–planting rue?”
–“No; yesterday he went to wed
One of the brightest wealth has bred.
‘It cannot hurt her now,’ he said,
That I ‘should not be true.'”
Then who is digging on my grave?
My nearest dearest kin?”
–“Ah, no; they sit and think, ‘What use!
What good will planting flowers produce?
No tendance of her mound can loose
Her spirit from Death’s gin.'”
But someone digs upon my grave?
My enemy? — prodding sly?”
–“Nay; when she heard you had passed the Gate
That shuts on all flesh soon or late,
She thought you no more worth her hate,
And cares not where you lie.”
Then, who is digging on my grave?
Say — since I have not guessed!”
— “O it is I, my mistress dear,
Your little dog, who still lives near,
And much I hope my movements here
Have not disturbed your rest?”
Ah, yes! You dig upon my grave …
Why flashed it not on me
That one true heart was left behind!
What feeling do we ever find
To equal among humankind
A dog’s fidelity!”
Mistress, I dug upon your grave
To bury a bone, in case
I should be hungry near this spot
When passing on my daily trot.
I am sorry, but I quite forgot
It was your resting-place.”
– Thomas Hardy
Snuggly musk, milky puppy breath, upturned earth, and a gently-gnawed bone.
Blood Squib Snake Oil Perfume OilOut of Stock
A gory ejaculation of Snake Oil, simple syrup, and cherries.
Candy Corn Snake Oil Perfume OilOut of Stock
Caramel Apple Snake Oil Perfume OilOut of Stock
Cardamom Cream Pumpkin Cake Perfume OilOut of Stock
Thick lumps of pumpkin cake with cardamom-cream frosting and a dusting of cinnamon.
Chant d’Automne Perfume OilOut of Stock
Soon we will sink in the frigid darkness
Good-bye, brightness of our too short summers!
I already hear the fall in distress
Of the wood falling in the paved courtyard.
Winter will invade my being: anger,
Hatred, chills, horror, hard and forced labor,
And, like the sun in its iced inferno,
My heart is but a red and frozen floe.
I hear with shudders each weak limb that falls.
The scaffold will have no louder echo.
My spirit is like a tower that yields
Under the tireless and heavy ram blow.
It seems, lulled by this monotonous sound,
Somewhere a coffin is hastily nailed,
For whom? Summer yesterday, autumn now!
This mysterious noise sounds like a farewell.
I love the greenish light of your long eyes,
Sweet beauty, but all is bitter today.
Nothing, not love, the boudoir or the hearth
Is dearer than the sunshine on the sea.
Still love me, tender heart! Be a mother
Even to the ingrate, to the wicked,
Lover, sister, ephemeral sweetness
Of fall’s glory or of the setting sun.
Short-lived task! The tomb awaits, merciless.
Ah! Let me, my head resting on your knees,
Savor, regretting the white hot summer,
The autumn’s last rays yellow and tender.
The scent of the year’s fall and the setting sun, ominous and foreboding: dried leaves, charred wood, blood musk, amber, khus, and Nicotiana tabacum.
Come, Sister Perfume OilOut of Stock
Then they began to materialise till-if God have not take away my reason, for I saw it through my eyes-there were before me in actual flesh the same three women that Jonathan saw in the room, when they would have kissed his throat. I knew the swaying round forms, the bright hard eyes, the white teeth, the ruddy colour, the voluptuous lips. They smiled ever at poor dear Madam Mina; and as their laugh came through the silence of the night, they twined their arms and pointed to her, and said in those so sweet tingling tones that Jonathan said were of the intolerable sweetness of the water-glasses:-
“Come, sister. Come to us. Come! Come!”
Icy musk draped in osmanthus and white gardenia, a whisper of ti leaf and orchid, crystalline amber, and incense smoke.
Cozy Pumpkin Sweater Perfume OilOut of Stock
A dribble of pumpkin spice spilled onto a fluffy orange angora sweater.
Dark Pumpkin Mead Perfume OilOut of Stock
Thick, heady pumpkin mead sweetened with clover honey and a hint of maple.
Dead Leaves and Chai Perfume OilOut of Stock
Dead Leaves and S’mores Hair GlossOut of Stock
Every leaf tells a story.
Dead Leaves, Balsam, Olibanum, and Tonka Bean Perfume OilOut of Stock
Dead Leaves, Black Amber, and Woodmoss Hair GlossOut of Stock
Every leaf tells a story.
Dead Leaves, Blackberries, and Pine Needles Hair GlossOut of Stock
Every leaf tells a story.
Dead Leaves, Blue Lilac, Black Currant, and Black Orchid Perfume OilOut of Stock
Dead Leaves, Cacao, and Sandalwood Perfume OilOut of Stock
Dead Leaves, Green Cognac, and Tea Roses Perfume OilOut of Stock
Dead Leaves, Lime Rind, Guava, and White Musk Hair GlossOut of Stock
Every leaf tells a story.
Dead Leaves, Moss, and Mushrooms Perfume OilOut of Stock
Dead Leaves, Nutmeg, Sweet Vetiver, and Virginia Cedar Perfume OilOut of Stock
Death’s Head Moth Perfume OilOut of Stock
He was interrupted by a word from the Professor:-
“By making them happen; just as he used to send in the flies when the sun was shining. Great big fat ones with steel and sapphire on their wings; and big moths, in the night, with skull and cross-bones on their backs.” Van Helsing nodded to him as he whispered to me unconsciously:-
“The Acberontia atropos of the Sphinges-what you call the ‘Death’s-head moth!'” The patient went on without stopping.
Dusty brown sandalwood, nagarmotha, brown oudh, clove husk, white patchouli, black pepper, vetiver, green cumin, and ash.
Devil’s Night in the Pumpkin Patch Perfume OilOut of Stock
A flaming pile of pumpkin guts, booze, and sweaty dark musk.
Devils of the Pit Hair GlossOut of Stock
The door is shut, and the chains rattle; there is a grinding of the key in the lock; I can hear the key withdrawn; then another door opens and shuts; I hear the creaking of lock and bolt.
Hark! in the courtyard and down the rocky way the roll of heavy wheels, the crack of whips, and the chorus of the Szgany as they pass into the distance.
I am alone in the castle with those awful women. Faugh! Mina is a woman, and there is naught in common. They are devils of the Pit!
Black leather and honeyed patchouli.
Dusk in Autumn Perfume OilOut of Stock
The moon is like a scimitar,
A little silver scimitar,
A-drifting down the sky.
And near beside it is a star,
A timid twinkling golden star,
That watches likes an eye.
And thro’ the nursery window-pane
The witches have a fire again,
Just like the ones we make, –
And now I know they’re having tea,
I wish they’d give a cup to me,
With witches’ currant cake.
– Sara Teasdale
Black tea, currant cake, mandrake root, a whirl of dried leaves, and hearthsmoke.
Every Day is Halloween TeeSelect Options
This permanent edition to our catalogue was designed by the lovely and talented Tanya Bjork.
Fall, Leaves, Fall Perfume OilOut of Stock
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.
– Emily Bronte
Night’s decay: starry musk melting into blackcurrant, black oudh, black roses, and blood-red maple leaves.
Feeding the Dead Perfume OilOut of Stock
A barrel of beer, a pyramid of cakes, and three sticks of incense.
Flesh of My Flesh Perfume OilOut of Stock
“‘Silence! If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his brains out before your very eyes.’ I was appalled and was too bewildered to do or say anything. With a mocking smile, he placed one hand upon my shoulder and, holding me tight, bared my throat with the other, saying as he did so, ‘First, a little refreshment to reward my exertions. You may as well be quiet. It is not the first time, or the second, that your veins have appeased my thirst!’ I was bewildered, and strangely enough, I did not want to hinder him. I suppose it is a part of the horrible curse that such is, when his touch is on his victim. And oh, my God, my God, pity me! He placed his reeking lips upon my throat!” Her husband groaned again. She clasped his hand harder, and looked at him pityingly, as if he were the injured one, and went on.
“I felt my strength fading away, and I was in a half swoon. How long this horrible thing lasted I know not, but it seemed that a long time must have passed before he took his foul, awful, sneering mouth away. I saw it drip with the fresh blood!” The remembrance seemed for a while to overpower her, and she drooped and would have sunk down but for her husband’s sustaining arm. With a great effort she recovered herself and went on.
“Then he spoke to me mockingly, ‘And so you, like the others, would play your brains against mine. You would help these men to hunt me and frustrate me in my design! You know now, and they know in part already, and will know in full before long, what it is to cross my path. They should have kept their energies for use closer to home. Whilst they played wits against me, against me who commanded nations, and intrigued for them, and fought for them, hundreds of years before they were born, I was countermining them. And you, their best beloved one, are now to me, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of my kin, my bountiful wine-press for a while, and shall be later on my companion and my helper. You shall be avenged in turn, for not one of them but shall minister to your needs. But as yet you are to be punished for what you have done. You have aided in thwarting me. Now you shall come to my call. When my brain says “Come!” to you, you shall cross land or sea to do my bidding. And to that end this!’
With that he pulled open his shirt, and with his long sharp nails opened a vein in his breast. When the blood began to spurt out, he took my hands in one of his, holding them tight, and with the other seized my neck and pressed my mouth to the wound, so that I must either suffocate or swallow some to the… Oh, my God! My God! What have I done? What have I done to deserve such a fate, I who have tried to walk in meekness and righteousness all my days. God pity me! Look down on a poor soul in worse than mortal peril. And in mercy pity those to whom she is dear!” Then she began to rub her lips as though to cleanse them from pollution.
Blood of my blood: a deep crimson musk threaded with mesmerizing Tunisian amber, voluptuous champaca blossom, vanilla absolute, labdanum, bitter almond, and black orchid.
Flor de Muerto Hair GlossOut of Stock
The orange marigold, or zempasuchitl, has been one of Death’s symbols since the pre-Columbian era. The yellow and orange petals are believed to represent the rays of the sun, bringing joy and light to the souls dwelling in the realm of the dead. These flowers surround Day of the Dead altars to guide the spirits to their offerings.
Haunted Pumpkin Patch Perfume OilOut of Stock
Golden amber, murky black musk, pumpkin vines, and pumpkin pulp.
His Red Mouth Perfume OilOut of Stock
“He came up to the window in the mist, as I had seen him often before; but he was solid then—not a ghost, and his eyes were fierce like a man’s when angry. He was laughing with his red mouth; the sharp white teeth glinted in the moonlight when he turned to look back over the belt of trees, to where the dogs were barking. I wouldn’t ask him to come in at first, though I knew he wanted to-just as he had wanted all along. Then he began promising me things-not in words but by doing them.”
A covenant: white frankincense, pine pitch, vetiver, black oudh, and leather.
Hypnotize Me Perfume OilOut of Stock
“Where are you now?” The answer came dreamily, but with intention; it were as though she were interpreting something. I have heard her use the same tone when reading her shorthand notes.
“I do not know. It is all strange to me!”
“What do you see?”
“I can see nothing; it is all dark.”
“What do you hear?” I could detect the strain in the Professor’s patient voice.
“The lapping of water. It is gurgling by, and little waves leap. I can hear them on the outside.”
“Then you are on a ship?” We all looked at each other, trying to glean something each from the other. We were afraid to think. The answer came quick:-
“What else do you hear?”
“The sound of men stamping overhead as they run about. There is the creaking of a chain, and the loud tinkle as the check of the capstan falls into the rachet.”
“What are you doing?”
“I am still-oh, so still. It is like death!”
White lavender and drops of mugwort.
I am All in a Sea of Wonders Perfume OilOut of Stock
“I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt. I fear. I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!”
A delirium of mortal and immortal terror: frankincense, white oud, tolu balsam, champaca absolute, cannabis accord, and silvery amber.
Kisses for us All Perfume OilOut of Stock
“He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all.” I lay quiet, looking out under my eyelashes in an agony of delightful anticipation. The fair girl advanced and bent over me till I could feel the movement of her breath upon me. Sweet it was in one sense, honey-sweet, and sent the same tingling through the nerves as her voice, but with a bitter underlying the sweet, a bitter offensiveness, as one smells in blood.
I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly under the lashes. The fair girl went on her knees and bent over me, fairly gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed about to fasten on my throat.
Honey-sweet and thick with blood: red roses and honey, a throb of red musk, bitter neroli and clove husk all staining a slash of sheet-white vanilla sandalwood.
Lambs-Wool Perfume OilOut of Stock
According to William Shepard Walsh, the Gentleman’s Magazine for May of 1784 stated, “this is a constant ingredient at merrymaking on Holy Eve.” He also quotes Vallancey’s etymological speculation: “The first day of November was dedicated to the angel presiding over fruits, seeds, etc., and was therefore named La Mas Ubhal, — that is, the day of the apple fruit, — and being pronounced Lamasool, the English have corrupted the name to Lambs-wool.”
A popular holy day beverage in 18th century Ireland: roasted apples mashed into warmed milk and ale, with nutmeg, sugar, ginger, and clove.
Les Heures de la Nuit Perfume OilOut of Stock
Blackcurrant musk, white lime, and sparkling white cognac.
Lollipop Snake Oil Perfume OilOut of Stock
This one’s for Lilith.
Lucy’s Eyes Perfume OilOut of Stock
“Lucy’s eyes in form and colour; but Lucy’s eyes unclean and full of hell-fire, instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the remnant of my love passed into hate and loathing; had she then to be killed, I could have done it with savage delight.
Unclean and full of hell-fire: a pulsing infernal amber, shot through with lilac-blue, bloodshot and blazing.
Mega-Sized Chocolate Bar Snake Oil Perfume OilOut of Stock
I bet you can still remember all the addresses of everyone who gave out the full-size chocolates on Halloween when you were a kid.
Mictecacihuatl Perfume OilOut of Stock
Known as the Mistress of Bones and the Lady of the Dead, she is the Queen of Mictlan, the Aztec Underworld, who still presides over today’s Day of the Dead rituals. Sometimes known now as La Huesuda, she brings peace and joy to the spirits of the deceased, and blesses the living who do honor to those who have passed before them.
Copal, precious woods, South American spices, agave nectar, cigar tobacco, and roses.
Miskatonic University’s Pumpkin Patch Perfume OilOut of Stock
Arkham knows the reason for the season! Pumpkin spiced Irish coffee, dusty tomes, merrily flickering jack o’lanterns, and polished oakwood.
Picturesque Figures Hair GlossOut of Stock
“I shall never forget the last glimpse which I had of the inn yard and its crowd of picturesque figures, all crossing themselves, as they stood round the wide archway, with its background of rich foliage of oleander and orange trees in green tubs clustered in the centre of the yard.”
Oleander, orange blossom, and frankincense.
Pistachio Pumpkin Truffle Perfume OilOut of Stock
With Belgian chocolate and a dusting of nutmeg.
Pomegranate Smoke Hair GlossOut of Stock
A scent for in-between times and in-between spaces: blackened pomegranate, myrrh, opoponax, cypress, black oud, and 9-year aged patchouli.
Popcorn Ball Snake Oil Perfume OilOut of Stock
This one is for Lil, too.
Pumpkin Cheesecake Hair GlossOut of Stock
Graham crackery and cream cheesy! Cinnamon brown sugary! Just a little carroty!
Pumpkin Gloss Hair GlossOut of Stock
A highly-polished pumpkin sheen: white musk, lemon peel, a splash of pumpkin chypre, and a pile of pumpkin guts.
Pumpkin Latte Perfume OilOut of Stock
Espresso, pumpkin syrup, smoky vanilla bean, milk, raw sugar, and a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg.
Pumpkin Mead and Honey Cakes Perfume OilOut of Stock
A Samhain offering to those who have come before, a balm for restless spirits.
Pumpkin Seed and Terebinth Pitch Hair GlossOut of Stock
Toasted pumpkin seeds and thick, smoky rosin.
Pumpkin Spice Antikythera Mechanism Perfume OilOut of Stock
A true innovation: teakwood, oak, pumpkin spiced smoked vanilla, and tobacco.
Pumpkin Spice Blood Kiss Perfume OilOut of Stock
Lush, creamy vanilla and the honey of the sweetest kiss smeared with the vital throb of husky clove and swollen red cherries, but darkened with the vampiric sensuality of vetiver, soporific poppy and blood red wine, and a skin-light pulse of feral musk. Plus pumpkin. Just a weird, spicy jolt of pumpkin.
Pumpkin Spice Dragon’s Milk Hair GlossOut of Stock
Pumpkin spice, dragon’s blood resin, and honeyed vanilla.
Pumpkin Spice Rogue Hair GlossOut of Stock
Pumpkin spice-spattered black leather, hemp, and rosin.
Pumpkin Spice Silkybat Hair GlossOut of Stock
Sugared patchouli and pumpkin spice.
Pumpkin Spice Snake Oil Perfume OilOut of Stock
Red Hot Snake Oil Perfume OilOut of Stock
You definitely don’t want to put this on yer privates.
Ring of Wolves Hair GlossOut of Stock
“But just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind the jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues, with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair.”
Ochre fur bristling, a whiff of obsidian musk on a moonlit night, crushed pine needles, claws tearing through snow-dusted soil.
Samhain Hair GlossOut of Stock
Truly the scent of autumn itself — damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.
Samhain Perfume OilOut of Stock
Truly the scent of autumn itself — damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.
Samhainophobia Perfume OilOut of Stock
The fear of Halloween. Menacing Haitian vetiver, patchouli, and clove with a shock of bourbon geranium, grim oakmoss, and dread-inspiring balsams pierce the innocuous scent of autumn leaves.
Scherezade in the Pumpkin Patch Hair GlossOut of Stock
Pumpkin spiced saffron, heady spices, and red musk.
Songs of Autumn I Perfume OilOut of Stock
Sometime before: rain-damp grass and white sage.
Songs of Autumn II Perfume OilOut of Stock
Inspired by the terrifying red skies in the Jambi province, caused by the smoke haze resulting from rampant slash-and-burn: red musk, burning leaves, palm oil, soot, and woodsmoke.
Songs of Autumn III Perfume OilOut of Stock
The city in drought: dust and tumbleweeds, dry sage and chaparral, cactus nectar, and cinders.
Songs of Autumn IV Perfume OilOut of Stock
A harvest scent, bright and hopeful: hay and honey, apricot rind, white amber, apple peel, chrysanthemums, and oak.
Songs of Autumn V Perfume OilOut of Stock
Sweet, quiet, velvet darkness: an eddy of dry maple leaves, blackcurrant juice, patchouli root, and bourbon.
Songs of Autumn VII Perfume OilOut of Stock
A keening cry of rebirth: green fig, Atlas cedar, oakmoss, labdanum, tobacco absolute, and white honey.
Sour Gummi Perfume OilOut of Stock
Puckery, but not too puckery.
Sugar Skulls in the Pumpkin Patch Perfume OilOut of Stock
A blend of five sugars and pumpkin pulp, lightly dusted with candied fruits and a dash of cinnamon.
That ‘Ere Wolf Perfume OilOut of Stock
The whole scene was an unutterable mixture of comedy and pathos. The wicked wolf that for half a day had paralysed London and set all the children in the town shivering in their shoes, was there in a sort of penitent mood, and was received and petted like a sort of vulpine prodigal son. Old Bilder examined him all over with most tender solicitude, and when he had finished with his penitent said:-
“There, I knew the poor old chap would get into some kind of trouble; didn’t I say it all along? Here’s his head all cut and full of broken glass. ‘E’s been a-gettin’ over some bloomin’ wall or other. It’s a shyme that people are allowed to top their walls with broken bottles. This ‘ere’s what comes of it. Come along, Bersicker.”
Feral, shaggy musk, cypress-wet, gnashing with agarwood, black pine needles, and balsam.
The Blood is the Life Perfume OilOut of Stock
The doctor here will bear me out that on one occasion I tried to kill him for the purpose of strengthening my vital powers by the assimilation with my own body of his life through the medium of his blood-relying, of course, upon the Scriptural phrase, ‘For the blood is the life.’ Though, indeed, the vendor of a certain nostrum has vulgarised the truism to the very point of contempt. Isn’t that true, doctor?” I nodded assent, for I was so amazed that I hardly knew what to either think or say; it was hard to imagine that I had seen him eat up his spiders and flies not five minutes before.
Blood trickling through thick, dark myrrh and a rivulet of unholy, desecrated sacramental wine.
The Country Gets Wilder as We Go Perfume OilOut of Stock
2 November, night.-All day long driving. The country gets wilder as we go, and the great spurs of the Carpathians, which at Veresti seemed so far from us and so low on the horizon, now seem to gather round us and tower in front…Oh, what will to-morrow bring to us? We go to seek the place where my poor darling suffered so much. God grant that we may be guided aright, and that He will deign to watch over my husband and those dear to us both, and who are in such deadly peril. As for me, I am not worthy in His sight. Alas! I am unclean to His eyes, and shall be until He may deign to let me stand forth in His sight as one of those who have not incurred His wrath.
A snow-capped, untamed maze of fir, poplar, and oak. Ghostly beech reaching skeletal arms into the ink-black sky.
The Embodiment of Funeral Gloom Perfume OilOut of Stock
Never did tombs look so ghastly white. Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embodiment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteriously, and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night.
A shroud of black agarwood, cypress, myrrh, and upturned earth, scattered with crushed lavender and creeping with moss-smothered stone.
The Empty Coffin Perfume OilOut of Stock
I drew near and looked. The coffin was empty.
It was certainly a surprise to me, and gave me a considerable shock, but Van Helsing was unmoved. He was now more sure than ever of his ground, and so emboldened to proceed in his task. “Are you satisfied now, friend John?” he asked.
I felt all the dogged argumentativeness of my nature awake within me as I answered him:
“I am satisfied that Lucy’s body is not in that coffin; but that only proves one thing.”
“And what is that, friend John?”
“That it is not there.”
Dead roses, oud blanc, and white sandalwood.
The Empty House Perfume OilOut of Stock
See this house, how dark it is
Beneath its vast-boughed trees!
Not one trembling leaflet cries
To that Watcher in the skies-
‘Remove, remove thy searching gaze,
Innocent of heaven’s ways,
Brood not, Moon, so wildly bright,
On secrets hidden from sight.’
‘Secrets,’ sighs the night-wind,
‘Vacancy is all I find;
Every keyhole I have made
Wails a summons, faint and sad,
No voice ever answers me,
‘Once, once …’ the cricket shrills,
And far and near the quiet fills
With its tiny voice, and then
Hush falls again.
Mute shadows creeping slow
Mark how the hours go.
Every stone is mouldering slow.
And the least winds that blow
Some minutest atom shake,
Some fretting ruin make
In roof and walls. How black it is
Beneath these thick boughed trees!
– Walter De La Mare
Black oud, woodsmoke, mahogany, pine pitch, and blackened pumpkin.
The Hag Hair GlossOut of Stock
The Hag is astride,
This night for to ride;
The Devill and shee together:
Through thick, and through thin,
Now out, and then in,
Though ne’r so foule be the weather.
A Thorn or a Burr
She takes for a Spurre:
With a lash of a Bramble she rides now,
Through Brakes and through Bryars,
O’re Ditches, and Mires,
She followes the Spirit that guides now.
No Beast, for his food,
Dares now range the wood;
But husht in his laire he lies lurking:
While mischiefs, by these,
On Land and on Seas,
At noone of Night are working,
The storme will arise,
And trouble the skies;
This night, and more for the wonder,
The ghost from the Tomb
Affrighted shall come,
Cal’d out by the clap of the Thunder.
Black musk, bay leaves, galangal, bourbon vetiver, blackcurrant, and rum.
The Host Perfume OilOut of Stock
First he took from his bag a mass of what looked like thin, wafer-like biscuit, which was carefully rolled up in a white napkin; next he took out a double-handful of some whitish stuff, like dough or putty. He crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it into the mass between his hands. This he then took, and rolling it into thin strips, began to lay them into the crevices between the door and its setting in the tomb. I was somewhat puzzled at this, and being close, asked him what it was that he was doing. Arthur and Quincey drew near also, as they too were curious. He answered:-
“I am closing the tomb, so that the Un-Dead may not enter.”
“And is that stuff you have put there going to do it?” asked Quincey. “Great Scott! Is this a game?”
“What is that which you are using?” This time the question was by Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted his hat as he answered:-
“The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have an Indulgence.”
A sacramental wafer, frankincense smoke, and a drop of wine.
The Listeners Perfume OilOut of Stock
‘Is there anybody there?’ said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller’s head
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
‘Is there anybody there?’ he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller’s call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
‘Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
‘Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,’ he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.
– Walter De La Mare
A host of phantoms: mist-pale lilac, orris root, bruised violets, mugwort, white amber, yuzu, white champa, and white musk.
The Lurid Library’s Pumpkin Patch Perfume OilOut of Stock
The incense-tinged scent of forbidden tomes and the musk-laden remnants of infernal servants slithering through an overgrown, neglected pumpkin patch.
The Shadowed Veil Perfume OilOut of Stock
A strangely sensual, darkly fae All Hallow’s Eve cologne, a perfume of the Otherworld: black pumpkin, leather, pomegranate incense, agarwood, and bourbon patchouli.
The Sleeping Draught Perfume OilOut of Stock
“I took the sleeping draught which you had so kindly given me, but for a long time it did not act. I seemed to become more wakeful, and myriads of horrible fancies began to crowd in upon my mind-all of them connected with death, and vampires; with blood, and pain, and trouble.”
A haze of lavender and black oudh, laudanum accord, and opium tar.
The Sun Rises To-Day Perfume OilOut of Stock
As she was telling her terrible story, the eastern sky began to quicken, and everything became more and more clear. Harker was still and quiet. But over his face, as the awful narrative went on, came a grey look which deepened and deepened in the morning light, till when the first red streak of the coming dawn shot up, the flesh stood darkly out against the whitening hair.
We have arranged that one of us is to stay within call of the unhappy pair till we can meet together and arrange about taking action.
Of this I am sure: the sun rises to-day on no more miserable house in all the great round of its daily course.
Keening melancholy, suffocating despair: blue lilac and violet leaf, white musk and eucalyptus, carrot seed and ti leaf.
Voluptuous Wantonness Perfume OilOut of Stock
“The sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness.”
Preternatural hedonism: silken billows of scarlet musk and red oudh with sugared fig, opoponax, wild plum, Siamese benzoin, vanilla husk, tobacco, and mimosa.
Wax Cylinders Perfume OilOut of Stock
He stood up and opened a large drawer, in which were arranged in order a number of hollow cylinders of metal covered with dark wax, and said:-
“You are quite right. I did not trust you because I did not know you. But I know you now; and let me say that I should have known you long ago. I know that Lucy told you of me; she told me of you too. May I make the only atonement in my power? Take the cylinders and hear them-the first half-dozen of them are personal to me, and they will not horrify you; then you will know me better. Dinner will by then be ready. In the meantime I shall read over some of these documents, and shall be better able to understand certain things.” He carried the phonograph himself up to my sitting-room and adjusted it for me. Now I shall learn something pleasant, I am sure; for it will tell me the other side of a true love episode of which I know one side already….
Polished mahogany, soft leather, and gold-molded wax.
Wax Vampire Teeth Snake Oil Perfume OilOut of Stock