THE DEATH OF THE OLD YEAR
by Lord Alfred Tennyson

Full knee-deep lies the winter snow,
And the winter winds are wearily sighing:
Toll ye the church bell sad and slow,
And tread softly and speak low,
For the old year lies a-dying.
    Old year you must not die;
    You came to us so readily,
    You lived with us so steadily,
    Old year you shall not die.

He lieth still: he doth not move:
He will not see the dawn of day.
He hath no other life above.
He gave me a friend and a true truelove
And the New-year will take ’em away.
    Old year you must not go;
    So long you have been with us,
    Such joy as you have seen with us,
    Old year, you shall not go.

He froth’d his bumpers to the brim;
A jollier year we shall not see.
But tho’ his eyes are waxing dim,
And tho’ his foes speak ill of him,
He was a friend to me.
    Old year, you shall not die;
    We did so laugh and cry with you,
    I’ve half a mind to die with you,
    Old year, if you must die.

He was full of joke and jest,
But all his merry quips are o’er.
To see him die across the waste
His son and heir doth ride post-haste,
But he’ll be dead before.
    Every one for his own.
    The night is starry and cold, my friend,
    And the New-year blithe and bold, my friend,
    Comes up to take his own.

How hard he breathes! over the snow
I heard just now the crowing cock.
The shadows flicker to and fro:
The cricket chirps: the light burns low:
’Tis nearly twelve o’clock.
    Shake hands, before you die.
    Old year, we’ll dearly rue for you:
    What is it we can do for you?
    Speak out before you die.

His face is growing sharp and thin.
Alack! our friend is gone,
Close up his eyes: tie up his chin:
Step from the corpse, and let him in
That standeth there alone,
    And waiteth at the door.
    There’s a new foot on the floor, my friend,
    And a new face at the door, my friend,
    A new face at the door.

The old year makes way for the new: melting snow, a snuffed out candle flame and the sweet scent of hope fresh on new year's morn.

THE NAUGHTY LIST
Conjure Oils’ Yule 2011
Collection

Welcome to Conjure Oils’ 2011 Yule Collection, The Naughty List! Every year, we host a contest to challenge the citizens of Conjure County to come up with suggestions for their ideas of a holy grail Yule perfume design. The winners not only get $30 in Conjure Ca$h to indulge on anything at ConjureOils.com, they also get to be the envy of their friends and enemies alike! All winning entries are lovingly crafted into a unique perfume oils available for all to admire (and purchase!) on the Conjure Oils website throughout the Yuletide season, not to mention that the winner also receives a 5ml bottle of their perfume as well!

The parameters of the contest were fairly loose – a maximum of five entries per person illustrating concepts that could be as general or specific as the entrant desired. We had entries that ran the gamut from simply elegant (balsam fir and cranberries, call it Garlands) to intricately complex treatises on the origins of various Yule traditions (for example, an entry the length of five single-spaced typed pages explaining the origins of Krampus with the recommendation that the perfume be titled  Krampusnacht ist Wunderbar!)

Every year the entries increase in their creativity, cleverness, complexity of design and, well, length! :D I am SO proud of the citizens of Conjure County and the community that has been created around Conjure Oils. I want to extend a massive gesture of gratitude and bow deeply and reverently before everyone who entered, who told someone or who spread the word about the contest, to all who spread the word about Conjure Oils to anyone who would listen, all who taunted their foes with the majesty of our unpretentious honesty and the sincerity of our passions. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

So! On to the Naughty List! Congratulations to all the winners and to everyone who entered! I loved reading all of your creative contributions and wished I could have used them all! Nonetheless, may your Yule be blessed, your Kwanzaa righteous, your Hanukkah glorious, your Christmas merry and your Winter Solstice secular!

Big love, hugs, blessings, light, life and joy from all of us at Conjure Oils & The Conjure Works!

Vajra, Sterling & Miss Lucy, too!

THE NAUGHTY LIST
Despite our best efforts to kiss up to the big guy in red, sometimes we can't help but end up on the naughty list!

Fluffy marshmallows slowly toasted over the fireplace flames, buttered rum spiked steamed vanilla milk, cacao musk, swirling pipe tobacco and a snicker doodle bribe.

Hottie McNaughty
Washington, USA

HADES’ HOMECOMING
Even Gods get to go home for the holidays and Hades is no exception! Every Midwinter’s Eve He returns to Mount Olympus to share in the ambrosial nectar. Let us celebrate the Lord of the Dead’s slight reprieve with fragrant offerings of our own design.
Persephone's frosted garnet pomegranates, lightly bruised winter mint, snow-softened flames, Stygian incense smoke, Cerebus’ worn collar leather and the bittersweet tears of homecoming.

Nyx G.
California, USA

KAOS
The prehistoric abyss that gives birth to the Sun and all of creation.

Primeval black resin, hoary black musk, ancient leather, Prometheus’ fire and traces of ozone; a relic from the crack of lightning that created life in the primordial ooze.

NYX
Nyx is the exceedingly dark, beautiful, powerful and unknowable Greek goddess of the Night who witnessed the birth of all of creation. She is Mother of the deepest mysteries that have haunted humanity since the beginning of time: The Mother of Moros (Doom), Styx (Hate), Hypnos (Sleep) & Thanatos (Death) and many, many others. I’m sure Holiday celebrations at Mama Nyx’s house are serious business!

AT NIGHT
Franz Kafka

Deeply lost in the night.
Just as one sometimes lowers one’s head to reflect,
Thus to be utterly lost in the night. All around people are asleep.
It’s just play acting, and innocent self-deception, that they sleep in houses,
In safe beds, under a safe roof, stretched out or curled up on mattresses,
In sheets, under blankets; in reality they have flocked together
As they had once upon a time and again later in a deserted region,
A camp in the open, a countless number of men, an army, a people,
Under a cold sky on cold earth, collapsed where once they had stood,
Forehead pressed on the arm, face to the ground, breathing quietly.
And you are watching, are one of the watchmen,
You find the next one by brandishing a burning stick
From the brushwood pile beside you.
Why are you watching? Someone must watch, it is said.
Someone must be there.

Egyptian myrrh, amber resin, opium tar, antique patchouli, moonflower, black tea and tonka bean.

Kirsten B.
Georgia, USA

COLA DE MONO
“The Monkey’s Tail” in English, Cola de Mono is a traditional Chilean holiday drink that is similar to a White Russian. The Dude would approve!  “Hey man, there’s a beverage here!”

Hot buttered rum, scalded cream, spiced coffee liqueur and a splash of vanilla infused vodka.

Michelle H.
California, USA

PANCHA GANAPTI
Pancha Ganapti is a five day solstice celebration that takes place December 21st through the 25th in honor of the elephant-headed Hindu deity Ganesha. On the first day, the shrine is constructed by the family as a gesture of unity and worship and an icon of Ganesha is decorated with pine boughs, shimmering tinsel and a particular magical color. Each day the God is dressed in a new color and a particular sadhana, or spiritual practice, is focused upon by the family. By the last day, the celebrants are said to be overflowing with love for one another and showered with the blessings of Ganesha.

Beats passing out from turkey overdose in front of the TV if you ask me!

Coconut cream, caramelized sugar, cardamom, rosewater, fresh mango pulp, red musk, amber incense, a bouquet of champaca and a few grains of basmati rice.

Heather M.
Washington, USA

THE ICE QUEEN COMETH
Seated atop her gleaming crystalline carved ice throne, the regal Ice Queen prepares once more to rule the winter world. Tended to by snow sylphs and frost faeries she is powdered, perfumed and primped in her finest winter-white raiment and ready to mount her fantastic furred beast. She rides forth bringing with her winter's chill winds and icy darkness.

Hers is the fragrance of frost itself: arctic winds and frigid ice-rain drops that weave an icy web of glacial glamour.

SNOWCASTLE
A pale little girl sat in a field
Raising a castle from snow.
"You shouldn't be out here, you'll catch a cold!"
A passerby started to scold.
"I am out here, and here I shall stay, building my castles of snow.
For I'm all alone in this world and have no other place to call home."
"Little girl, don't you cry, for I've come bearing gifts;
Of warm, cozy nights
And daybreaks, so bright.
Just close your eyes and take hold my hand."
"Where are we going?"
"To your own winter wonderland."
With a snap of his fingers, and a clap of his hands
They shrunk to the size of two grains of sand
Then all of a sudden, the two were inside
A magnificent palace of ivory, so white.
Seated before an amber fire, lay the little girl's most sincere desire
A beautiful mother, with beauty and grace
And a father with a kind and generous face.
The little girl cried tears of absolute glee
As the passerby smiled, exiting silently.
From the little snow castle that was now the girl's home
No teardrops or sadness, just acres to roam.
As the kindly stranger went on his way
He waved a good-bye and boarded his sleigh.

The scent of holiday dreams come true: Powder fine sugar and snow, the stillness of clear iced amber, soft tendrils of hearth fire smoke and the welcoming gentle scent of oven fresh gingerbread slices dusted with just enough holiday magic.

Miranda S.
New Jersey, USA

MAUL SANTA 
Because Killer Klowns need holiday work, too!

Drunk before noon: Dark and boozy Bourbon vanilla, blackened coconut husk, toasted tonka bean, cherry pipe tobacco smoke and the suspicious scent of peppermint schnapps.

Leigh B.
Tennessee, USA

SLEIGHER
I’m dreaming of a black metal Christmas…  Somewhere in Norway a church is glowing, on Christmas Eve and the flames are spreading…

(I’m so going to Hell for this one.)

A Black Mass: Corrupted church incense, unholy water, Hell fire and the surprisingly pleasant scent of damnation.

Andrew D.
Oregon, USA

#OCCUPYTHENORTHPOLE
Why should Santa get all the credit? Let’s #OccupytheNorthPole and give props to some of the 99% that do all the work in the cold, white North - the reindeer!
This is in no way meant to demean or diminish the value or intention of the righteous #Occupy movement, of which I am in full support. In fact, the proceeds of the #OccupyTheNorthPole collection will be used to help us at Conjure Oils create care packages for the Occupants across the nation as need dictates. The packages will contain liquid antacid and empty spray bottles, protective eye wear, tincture of echinacea and goldenseal, zinc lozenges, toiletries, packs of new socks, fleece hats, mittens and hopefully brand new coats if the line generates enough funds!

DASHER
Dashing bergamot blossom, guaiac wood, cardamom pods, toasted cinnamon, black amber, benzoin resin, pimento berry and polished mahogany.

DANCER
Egyptian chamomile, rock rose, elemi resin, aged vanilla bean, sugared amber and dark patchouli SCO2.

PRANCER
Snow-dusted cypress branches, steaming coffee, vetiver root and patchouli wood.

VIXEN
Sweet honey, champaca blossom, vanilla orchid, ginger root and a sip of shimmering ruby pomegranate champagne.

COMET
Black pepper, nutmeg, clary sage, starry black vanilla musk, labdanum absolute and stellar white sandalwood.

CUPID
Sultry red musk, golden amber resin, red mandarin, crimson carnation and clove bud.

DONNER
White pine, pimento berry, violet leaf, hinoki wood, birch bark, Himalayan cedar wood, rainbow iris and olibanum.

BLITZEN
Lime zest, bergamot, night blooming jasmine, white tea, fresh skin musk, white amber, lily of the valley and brisk night air.

GINGERBREAD COVEN
Build-Your-Own-Gingerbread-Temple! Esmerelda, Inferna, Wendy, Terra and Marisol are back to celebrate Yule with you and have crafted all the goodies you’ll need to create the most delicious dwelling for all your spell castings!

INFERNA’S GINGERBREAD
Nothing says lovin’ like somethin’ from the coven and Inferna’s gingerbread is no exception! Hand mixed and baked to perfection: ginger root, sifted cake flour, molasses, brown sugar and a pinch of chili pepper. Inferna wouldn’t have it any other way!

TERRA’S SPICED GUMDROP GEMS
Terra spent all month in the candy caverns mining the perfect jelly gemstones that have just the right balance of clove, cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice!

MARISOL’S SEA SALT CARAMELS
Marisol’s caramels are a force of nature all on their own! Mouth-watering soft caramel, sugared milk, vanilla bean and a sprinkling of her own hand-harvested sea salt.

WENDY’S WICKED ICING
Wendy’s whipped up a batch of her royal icing: confectioner’s sugar, vanilla and cream.

ESMERELDA’S CANDY WANDS
Red and green swirls of peppermint hard tack candy sweetened with vanilla sugar and a hint of something sinister.

GHOST OF YULES PAST

A LA NANITA NANA
The cherubic scent of a sleeping infant's skin, the nourishing sweetness of mother's milk, holy white musk and the radiant golden glow of warm vanilla-infused amber angel wings.

Hillary L.
Pennsylvania, USA
Yule 2010 Winner

AURORA BOREALIS
Shivering frost notes cling to the boughs of fir and spruce whilst wisps of smoke from sacred wood fires swirl and undulate amid a wintry mix of chilled yew and cranberries sweetened with frozen vanilla.

Niki W.
United Kingdom
Yule 2010 Winner

CHOCOLATE CAT
Hot chocolate cream flavored with curls of blood orange peel and soft ginger fur. Hurrah for the Chocolate Cat!

VioletBlue
Florida, USA
Yule 2010 Winner

I WANT TO BELIEVE (IN SANTA)
A suspicious mix of holiday cheer: vanilla syrup sweetened eggnog spiked with a dubious shot of spiced rum, garnished with a peppermint candy cane and a splash of doublespeak.

Vajra W.
Oregon, USA
Yule 2010 Winner

MIDNIGHT OF THE CENTURY
The otherworldly aroma of sacred offerings: resinous billows of frankincense and myrrh smoke, the built up wax from ages of burned beeswax candles, sacramental wine sweetened with milk and honey, slices of oven-fresh cranberry bread, garlands of holiday greens and flecks of gold foil from worn Byzantine saint icons.

Mark H. and the TIWWA Gang
UK/USA
Yule 2010 Winner

MOOSEMAS
Dark and rich chocolate mousse laced with the warmth and cheer of hazelnut liqueur and slivered almonds because things always get a little nutty at Moosemas!

Andrea F.
Wisconsin, USA
Yule 2010 Winner

POMME D’AMBRE
A juicy clove-studded orange is dusted with powdered cinnamon, ginger and orris root and hung from a scarlet ribbon to perfume the air with its ancient aroma.

Erin G.
Massachusetts, USA
Yule 2010 Winner

SHUT-EYE TOWN
Sweet lavender-infused vanilla cream, heliotrope blossoms and blue chamomile to soothe winter woes.

VioletBlue
Florida, USA
Yule 2010 Winner

SNEGUROCHKA
Romantically tragic and withering: roses heavy with ice are thawed with a deep heart of oud and fiery ginger.

Christine
Oregon, USA
Yule 2008 Winner

SNOWBOUND
Frozen musk topped by worn leather, sultry sandalwood and a drop of sweetest honey.

Vajra W.
Oregon, USA
Yule 2008 Winner

STILLE NACHT
Atlas cedar, oakmoss, cold dry woods, faded cathedral incense and drifting snow.

Paula S.
Arizona, USA
Yule 2010 Winner

STIRICIDE
Icicles with evil agendas, ozone and the coppery tang of impending doom.

Krystal A./Maire I.
USA
Yule 2010 Winner

STROKES OF GOLD
Glimmering golden sandalwood, glittering vanilla blossoms and a shimmer of sweet clove bud.

VioletBlue
Florida, USA
Yule 2010 Winner

ENTER IF YOU DARE...

It's mid-October, not too long after dusk. A full moon hangs in the autumn sky, silhouetting the mostly-bare trees against a star-spattered sky as the car filled with you and your friends passes along a rural, two-lane road. Excitement is thick in the car, for tonight is special; not to be spent at the local night club or usual hangout, but a small, enticing ad in the newspaper brought word of something far better. Out here, on the edges of the city where the streetlights are few and far between, lies Madame Victoria's Mansion of Mayhem promising thrills and chills appropriate for the Halloween-season. A terrifying phantasm that rises from the chill autumn mists only once a year, and only for the briefest period of time.

A hand-painted sign, illuminated by a couple of clamp lights attached to a bush, is the only marker for the road. The words are written in gothic, drippy, and almost absurdly macabre letters, along with a skeletal hand pointing the way. The entrance road is full of potholes and well rutted... it would almost look like you were headed down some long abandoned path if it weren't for the artificial jack-o'-lanterns serving as way-markers along the shoulder. At the end, a teenager in plastic flashing devil horns shows you to your parking spot with the wave of a red flashlight, and it's everyone out of the car.

The night is crisp and cool, the smells of popcorn, cotton candy, and fog juice hanging on the breeze as your party makes its way up to the entrance. There's a brief wait in line, giving you ample time to listen to the screams, snarls, and less identifiable noises issuing from behind the fence. and you get your tickets; moving to stand in line with the other guests. From the queue, it's hard to see much; a weathered wooden fence roughly eight feet tall allows only the barest glimpses of movement and light beyond. The facade, though, is the foreboding portico of a decrepit southern mansion, the weathered steps creaking ominously as each group is let in by the creepily-smiling butler in the mildewed tuxedo at the front door. Some distance away, the off-key tootling of a circus organ can be heard, tinny in the cold air.

Welcome, to Madame Victoria's Mansion of Mayhem.
Enjoy your visit...

Slider

You've been in line close to an hour already, impatiently waiting beneath the decaying eaves of the Mansion. People around you chatter excitedly on cell phones or to each other in anticipation, watching the gaunt figure of the Talker shouting out to the crowd from his decrepit podium by the entrance.

Suddenly, with a horrible and unearthly scraping noise, a leggy zombie in greyish moldering rags races across the blacktop toward an unwitting teenager lost in her phone conversation.. Screeching, it crawls on its hands and knees as a shower of sparks explodes from underneath the creeping creature. In one smooth movement it lunges upright next to the oblivious teen, snarling and looming over her while she shrieks and nearly drops her phone in terror.

Sharp, startling, and sudden: grey mint, metallic lime, sparkling white grapefruit and pomegranate musk.

Lightless Maze

The creaking doors and cobwebbed foyer of the Manor lead into a dark hallway, one that grows ever more dim the further your group progresses. In time, there is nothing but inky blackness, peppered with nerve-wracking scrapings in the walls and the feeling of spiderwebs brushing your face, or something worse - are those bugs crunching underfoot? Is the floor tilting, or is it just your imagination? There's a faint yelp from the front of the party as the poor soul in the lead finds out about the turn at the end of the hall the hard way.

Soft black patchouli, silky midnight opium, warm black tea and a mysterious trace of obfuscated honey sweetness over shrouded black coconut and black musk.

Haunted Gallery

A thick black drapery separates the lightless hallway from one that is only slightly brighter. Blotchy, peeling wallpaper and dark oaken wainscoting stained with unknown mildews cover decrepit walls behind a series of paintings in dull gilded frames. Each one contains a formal portrait, though the subjects are human only in the loosest sense. Staring red eyes follow you from sunken sockets, faint eerie scrapings are heard from behind the flaking canvases, and one bulges out as you pass as if its subject were trying to reach through to the warm flesh on the other side. As your party reaches the end of the hall, the second portrait from the end slams down with a startling crash and the rotting shell of some decaying ancestor lunges through the opening with an unholy screech!

Once fine and glistening, the mahogany is now decayed and desiccated; blood amber soaks and stains the shredded canvas. Evocative of a heart filled with longing and regret.

Forgotten Attic

Scampering out of the hall of possessed portraits, you emerge into the dim, cluttered recesses of the Mansion's attic where you are informed that a young woman once took her life after she was abandon at the altar.. Cobwebs and dust cling to every surface and eerie shadows flicker across the rough walls. A ghostly figure in the shadows seems to watch you sadly as you go past; a headless dressmaker's dummy with a stained old wedding dress that ruffles in an unseen breeze. As your group edges nervously among the cargo trunks and splitting boxes, a faint scratching noise reaches your ears as if some small animal were trapped somewhere in the narrow stacks. As you near the exit, the scraping turns into the crashing of chains, and a shriek to see you out the door in a panicked exit!

A lifetime neglected then forgotten: weathered and crumbling grief-torn love letters wrapped in a cracked and worn leather satchel, an unused moth-ravaged satin and lace trimmed wedding gown, a dusty and faded dried bouquet of blood red roses and a string of pearls stained with a rusty red splatter of blood.

Something Under the Stairs
The back stairs of the attic lead down into the depths, a narrow and claustrophobic descent into pitch blackness. You almost make it to the bottom before the sharp rattle of chains and a low, ominous growl sends you skittering toward the next room.

Ebony wood, vetiver, black leather, tonka, thick black vanilla resin, haunted clove, scuppernong and a wisp of motia attar.

Vampire's Lair
Parting a thick velvet curtain, you find that the basement is less a forest of pipes and old junk and more a warren of hand-dug tunnels and caves. Niches in the stone walls hold candles and bones, aged books and ruined antiques. Amidst this blackened finery, a series of larger ledges hold coffins ranging from mildewed old toe-pinchers to fine, enameled steel. As you make your way between them, first one lid cracks open, then another, urging you to hurry onward. Suddenly, a lanky vampire in ruined Victorian garb lands heavily on a big metal coffin near the exit, hissing and clawing at you as you run past.

Damp and blood-soaked soil is buried deep under notes of blood orange, black roses, dragon's blood, clove incense, tobacco,red sandalwood, blood kyphi and blood musk sweetened with the tiniest trickle of bruised plum.

Junkyard Zombie
The winding catacombs end in a crumbling old crypt, but it seems that the ancient graveyard it rests in has been long forgotten… long enough that it's been consumed by a nearby junkyard. Ancient, nearly-illegible tombstones lie almost unseen between burned out cars, rusting oil barrels, and discarded appliances. A low groan from the darkness proves soon enough that those interred in this once-hallowed ground are less than pleased by the current state of their lodgings. First one, than another, the zombies lurch out of the rusting debris, staggering unstoppably after your group as they flee for the safety of the distant gate.

Chthonic and ancient: lichen-riddled headstones, Spanish moss, smushy soil, murky myrrh, frozen mist and the eerie glow of the will-o'-the-wisp.

Scarecrow Alley
Reaching the dubious safety of the junkyard gate, the path leading out dumps out not on the safety of a highway, but the tall, crackling rows of a fallow cornfield. After some time spent wandering through the stalks in the darkness, the path opens out into a short road lined on both sides with suspicious looking scarecrows. Weather and decay have rotted away some of the burlap and flannel of their clothing and the straw is mildew-blackened. Perhaps it's a trick of the moonlight or the few lanterns hanging on the fence, but there seems to be something awfully realistic about these unmoving effigies. Only moments after you pass, two of the scarecrows fling themselves off their crosses, landing on the path behind you! Thankfully there are brighter lights ahead!

Moonlit corn husk, fresh pumpkin gourd, crispy frost-covered hay.

Vortex Tunnel
You lose your unholy pursuit in the corn, finally reaching the safety of the lights you saw in the distance… only to find out someone has set up a carnival out here in the corn. The music piping from inside the great tent is cheery, but somehow off and disturbing, the notes off key and cracked turning their perky melody into a tune of complete derangement. A gaunt man in a ringmaster's costume stands by the entrance, accompanied by a shapely woman in spangled tights and a very nearly blank doll's mask. He grins wickedly, beckoning you to pass through the curtains held by his assistant and into the swirling darkness within.

Inside, you find yourself on a narrow walkway inside a tunnel painted with crazy psychedelic patterns. The motion of the tunnel makes the walkway twist and writhe, all but forcing you to close your eyes just to get through this fun-house of terror without falling down.

Sweet funnel cakes defiled by chaotic swirls of vanilla ice cream, topped with corrupt caramel syrup and washed down with hootch.

Dot Room
Finally clear of the disorienting vortex, you take a moment to clear your vision… even though it looks like the fluorescent afterimages of the previous room have followed you here. Wild splatters of paint and brightly glowing dots cover every surface of this otherwise jet-black room, making it not entirely clear where the walls actually are. As you start to pick your way through it, some of those dots seem to move… or is it just your imagination? Soon enough the reality is made abruptly clear as shapes impossible to define dart and lunge toward you, swirling around your party as you scrabble for the exit.

Cavity craven and all madness! Peaches, pears, plums, and grapes petrified with toothache inspiring levels of sugar.

Killer Klown
No rest for the wicked, though! The darkness of the Dot Room gives way to a brightly lit funhouse of warped mirrors, garishly painted arches, and flashing strobes. In the smoky chaos, yellow-fanged mad clowns dart, popping out of the peripheries with honking horns, crazed laughter, or bloodied hand tools. Withered corpses bound cruelly into exaggerated poses line the walls, mimicking tight wire acts, animal tamers, and side-show acts, each one more nightmarish than the next.

Spun sugar, vanilla-white greasepaint, molten marshmallow and cherry-syrup blood.

Chainsaw!
As you claw your way out of the smoke and strobe filled carnival of chaos, you find yourself in what looks like some sort of access corridor. Unpolished, unpainted wooden walls lead out toward the distant sound of the parking lot, and safety. But just as you're about to reach it, a man in a stained, filthy jumpsuit explodes out from behind a side door, and the roar of his bloodied chainsaw rips through the air. "Encouraged" by this occurrence, you and your friends tear out through the exit at a dead run, the sting of gasoline smoke and death still thick in your nostrils.

Terrifyingly harsh, oily and industrial. Oil smoke, gasoline, opium tar, leather and black musk.

Inferna, the Blaze Witch

The fiery and temperamental member of the ensemble, Inferna leaves a trail of ash in her wake.

Myrrh ashes, singed cinnamon bark, smoked ginger and peppered clove-infused vanilla.

Esmerelda, the Plague Witch

Cheeriest member of the coven, Esmerelda's bubbly personality is in opposition to her power - to spread pestilence and woe at the snap of her greenish fingers.

Emerald green forest herbs crushed in a mortar and pestle and blended with resinous frankincense, wisteria and a drop of demon mint.

Wendy, the Tempest Witch

She will blow you away, literally. Having command over the wind makes Wendy a very happy and light-hearted witch!

Breeze-dusted lavender honey, broom straw, silver bells, wind-whipped willow and Mercurial musk.

Terra, the Tremor Witch

If you're looking for Terra, your best bet would be to look in the forest caves hunkered down with the brown bears and grey wolves, or tending to her sacred grove of yew and apple trees.

Earthy patchouli, juicy yew berry, apple wood, loam, lichen and a kiss of frost.

Stella, the Celestial Witch

Even when she's standing next to you, her silver eyes reveal that her mind is a million light years away, longing for another world to call home.

Otherworldly and bioluminescent flowers deepened with the blackness of a night sky littered with stars.

Marisol, the Tsunami Witch

Watch what you say around Marisol, she's sensitive and cries at the drop of a pointed black hat. Deeply caring and feeling, her power knows no bounds - the power to love.

Ocean mist, lunar musk, moonflower and white amber complicated by white grapefruit and vanilla sugar.

HALLOWS 2011 RESURRECTED

Abandoned Morgue 2011

Are you here on a dare and wishing you weren't, or is this your new nightly haunt? Either way, this old abandoned morgue has many stories to tell. Tonight we'll listen intently with the lights out!

Ghost of a bonfire, tonka bean, vanilla bourbon, Zanzibar clove, black amber and dark Indonesian patchouli.

Calavera de Azúcar 2011

Muscovado sugar, royal icing and meringue powder with a slight hint of metaphysical white musk.

Hänsel und Gretel 2011

A gingerbread house decorated with spice drops and butter cream frosting. The faint smell of a witch's brew filling the enchanted woods and roaring cook stove perfect for roasting a greedy little boy or girl.

Mara 2011

Mara is the Buddhist personification of Evil. Also known as Papiyan, ("more wicked") Mara (meaning "thirst" or "death") made every attempt possible to deter Siddhartha on his path toward Enlightenment by using armies of temptations such as: lust, hunger, thirst, sloth, cowardice, pride and fame, among others.

Bo tree bark, Indian sandalwood, thousand-petaled sacred lotus blossoms, warmed honey and pure vanilla absolute.

Mausoleum 2011

The dusty stillness of the afterlife: emerald moss, black orchids, cold stones and holy water.

Midnight Dreary 2011

Maybe it's the long winter looming around the corner? Perhaps it's the lengthening of the evening hours that signal the death of summer? Perchance it's simply sorrow for the lost Lenore? I couldn't tell you. But Poe's passion for the macabre (and maybe the love of laudanum) have led you down a dark path this evening. Will the sun ever rise again? In this midnight dreary mood, the answer is unlikely.

Pale ghost lilac and melancholy moonflowers decorate an elaborately antique mahogany table. Fig and clove, wafts of opium smoke hang heavy in the parlor as an open window carries a draft of night air and autumn leaves.

Murder of Crows 2011

Every fall they gather in murderous shrieking clusters blacking out the branches in the oak and apple trees across the street. They caw and cackle in a long-overdue maniacal avian family reunion from Hell.

The softest touch of black leather feathers, oak splinters, acorn, crumbled leaves and baked apples drizzled in brandy all illuminated by creamy vanilla moonlight

Ol' Scratch 2011

Ol' Scratch is a folksy epithet for Satan originating out of the legends of New England in the days before the Civil War. Some other pet names for the Prince of Darkness (other than Ozzy :D) are Old Nick, Old Bendy and Rodger (as in Jolly).

Thick slices of oven-fresh pumpkin bread slathered with butter and served with fresh cream and a drizzle of treacle

Punkin' Head 2011

Juicy, spicy pumpkin blended in with adorable creamy bits of cheesecake slathered in caramel sauce.

Succubus 2011

A demon who takes the form of a gorgeous human female specifically to seduce men. Like the incubus, the succubus may have been a scapegoat for infidelity or stray lust. Either way, the succubus has captured the imagination of men for ages, rousing all flavors of fear and fantasy.

African violet, sugar soaked vanilla, benzoin, coconut milk, triple cream, Egyptian sandalwood musk and red currant.

Witching Hour 2011

A midnight walk through the pumpkin patch on All Soul's Eve.

Spiced pumpkin, falling leaves, a black velvet cloak to pull close for warmth and a frankincense candle offering for the spirits residing in the nearby cemetery.

Madame Victoria's Mansion of Mayhem! Hallows 2011, The Witches' Coven and Hallows 2011 Resurrected will be undead until the end of November, or supplies are exhausted. Whichever comes first.

CREDITS:
Madame Victoria's Mansion of Mayhem
Concept & Artwork by Paula Schricker
Intro Copy by Vajra, Story Intro by Paula
Perfume Description Copy by Paula (mostly) & Vajra
Perfumes Created and Hand-Blended by Vajra