Here it is, my scent for All Saints' Day and Walpurgis Night!
Creepily good and powerful, extreme to the claws!
With it, I undergo a true transformation, as it takes an unexpected olfactory turn.
Jet black and shiny with a silver stripe, the bottle comes in the shape of the original Lapidus pour Homme. The darkness is somewhat eerie, and together with the silver lettering, it reminds me of occult utensils.
One should be sparing with the spray head, the scent explosion is immense. Therefore, I will try it outdoors.
In my romantic recklessness, I wander along the North Cemetery until I pause at the grave of Edgar Auer von Herrenkirchen. His neo-Gothic resting place resembles the entrance of a castle. Chivalrous and ghostly at the same time, his statue looks down at me. And to his left, another grave rises with a black marble slab. What a coincidence!
The silence of the night makes even the slightest rustle of leaves pierce my core, my heart beats faster.
I wait until the bright moon disappears behind the clouds. From afar, I can still hear the gentle and melancholic notes of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
Hiss!
Now it gets frightening!
My faithful companion
Lapidus pour Homme Eau de Toilette stares at me strangely with wide-open eyes. Meanwhile, he sheds his sporty freshness as if compelled. Away with the balsamic and bright notes, his rose is wilted and dead!
But his gaze becomes dark, his movements more clumsy. He now wears a black tailcoat with a matching sash. Yet this elegant attire shows something daring; with his half-open shirt and crumpled lapels, he cannot possibly appear at the soirée.
I still recognize his face, but it looks hard and lurking.
Although I encounter the familiar citrus notes, his breath exhales a peppery, metallic sharpness towards me. And slowly, he runs his tongue over his sharp canines. The slightly bloodied taste organ leaves faint traces of blood on his lips, which he dabs with the violet leaves.
The elixir of life smells stronger; it must be the throbbing saffron.
From distant Andalusia, it wafts here, warm and strong, rounding off the bloody. Just like the bite that I feel only briefly and dull on my neck. I brush my fingers over the wound and want to scream in fear, but my sounds are drowned out by the orange blossoms of Seville and Córdoba. This border crosser overwhelms me with them, almost making me faint. Any pain disappears, and I perceive my gloomy surroundings more slowly.
And then it thunders in my ears!
This life-thirsty monster makes the masquerade of Aram Khachaturian echo in my head through thought transmission!
Then he grabs my hands, and we dance the most terrifying waltz amidst the silver-dusted graves. Wildly and ever faster spinning, I see my eyes in his. We become alike; his face is now my reflection!
Oh dear, how do I feel?
Gradually, I become aware that I am spinning around all alone.
I grasp with both hands over the black tailcoat; the shirt almost suffocates me, I tear at it.
The air in my lungs is filled with an animal sweetness. Tonka beans and the resins of labdanum make every single point of the hexagon sting. Something vulgarly passionate seizes me and stimulates my salivation. I am practically foaming at the mouth.
Frenzied and almost raging, I leave the North Cemetery and virtually fly home.
Looking out the window, I am awaited.
“Beware, run away!” I want to call out as a warning, but my mind gives way to an irrational drive. And foreign blood makes me howl!
A curse weighs upon me!
And so I plead with the remaining humanity within me to grasp the redeeming silver amidst the all-consuming blackness and to save me.
What have I done?
Top Notes 
Violet leaf
Black pepper
Lemon
Heart Notes 
Orange blossom
Saffron
Base Notes 
Tonka bean
Labdanum
SirEmmitt
Mihaiu
Axiomatic
Yatagan
SchatzSucher
Ergoproxy
Praterstern
Leons
Fleurissimo
Dawg
