Related products

• 

  The Drunkard’s Dream Perfume Oil

  The drunk in the graveyard raised his bottle to his lips. One of the gravestones flipped over, revealing a grasping corpse; a headstone turned around, flowers replaced by a grinning skull. A wraith appeared on the right of the church, while on the left of the church something with a half-glimpsed, pointed, unsettlingly birdlike face, a pale, Boschian nightmare, glided smoothly from a headstone into the shadows and was gone. Then the church door opened, a priest came out, and the ghosts, haunts, and corpses vanished, and only the priest and the drunk were left alone in the graveyard. The priest looked down at the drunk disdainfully, and backed through the open door, which closed behind him, leaving the drunk on his own.

  The clockwork story was deeply unsettling. Much more unsettling, thought Shadow, than clockwork has any right to be.

  “You know why I show that to you?” asked Czernobog.

  “No.”

  “That is the world as it is. That is the real world. It is there, in that box.”

  Red currant and labdanum with opoponax, vetiver, grave moss, white sandalwood, and khus.

  Out of Stock
• 

  The Scales of Deprivation Perfume Oil

  And when he had opened the third seal, I heard the third beast say, Come and see. And I beheld, and lo a black horse; and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his hand.

  Thin, dark, and shadowed. A scent that offers no sustenance, comfort or satiety: lemon peel, white sage, frankincense, lavender fougere, sandalwood, vetiver and labdanum.

  And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts say, A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine.

  And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see. 

  Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
• 

  Hastur Perfume Oil

  It wasn’t a dark and stormy night.

  It should have been, but that’s the weather for you. For every mad scientist who’s had a convienient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who’ve sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor racks up the overtime.

  But don’t let the fog (with rain later, temperatures dropping to around forty-five degrees) give anyone a false sense of security. Just because it’s a mild night doesn’t mean that dark forces aren’t abroad. They’re abroad all the time. They’re everywhere.

  They always are. That’s the whole point.

  Two of them lurked in a ruined graveyard. Two shadowy figures, one hunched and squat, the other lean and menacing, both of them Olympic-grade lurkers. If Bruce Springsteen had ever recorded “Born to Lurk,” these two would have been on the album cover. They had been lurking in the fog for over an hour now, but they had been pacing themselves and could lurk for the rest of the night if necessary, with still enough sullen menace left for a final burst of lurking around dawn.

  Finally, after another twenty minutes, one of them said: “Bugger this for a lark. He should have been here hours ago.”

  The speaker’s name was Hastur. He was a Duke of Hell.

  Smoky-sour labdanum, black patchouli, wet tobacco, and brimstone.

  Out of Stock
• 

  Medea Perfume Oil

  Granddaughter of Helios, Hecate’s chosen: Medea was one of the greatest sorceresses of the ancient world. She is the embodiment of ruthless power, indomitable will and furious vengeance. Night-blooming cereus, black orchid, black currant and myrtle leaf enshrouded in the incense of Hecate’s cypress and myrrh, and the dark rage of magickal labdanum and intoxicating poppy.

  Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page