Mlleghoul
4
a hypnagogic lullaby of honeyed incense
Holy Terror unfolds like a waking dream, a fragrant tale that blurs the boundary between consciousness and slumber, where honeyed richness of beeswax candles intertwines with resinous incense. As it settles on the skin, the frankincense and myrrh meld with the mellow warmth of the beeswax, their individual notes blurring like secrets inked on damp parchment. There's a golden amber vein comfort woven through the austere resins, reminiscent of candlelight flickering against ancient stone walls.
The longer you wear it, the more Holy Terror becomes a sensory lullaby. It's the olfactory equivalent of that drowsy state just before sleep claims you, when the words on the page of your gothic novel begin to swim and the tendrils of incense seem to form shapes in the air. The sandalwood provides a steady backdrop, like the spine of an old book, while the honeyed incense notes dance and swirl, becoming indistinguishable from one another.
As you drift deeper into this scented reverie, you find yourself wandering the shadowy corridors of a crumbling castle, where portraits seem to breathe and suits of armor creak with unseen movement. The amber-tinged air carries whispers of ancient prophecies and long-buried secrets. In your mind's eye, you see the ingenue fleeing through moonlit cloisters, her trembling fingers leaving trails in the dust of centuries. The scent of Holy Terror wraps around you like a cloak of shadows, at once comforting and mysterious, much like the hidden passageways that both terrify and beckon in these tales of old.
This fragrance doesn't so much evoke fearsome abbey spirits as it does the gentle ghosts of stories half-remembered, of dreams that linger upon waking. It's what you might smell if you fell asleep reading by candlelight and woke to find the smoke from the snuffed flame mingling with the last wisps of incense, all suffused with the ambery glow of beeswax.
Beeswax candle
Frankincense
Myrrh
Sandalwood
