In the mist-shrouded woods, where moonlight barely pierced the dense canopy, stood a mansion steeped in spectral lore. Each night, as darkness claimed its ancient halls, candles flickered to life, their flames swaying without a breeze to stir them. No mortal hand dared to light them, yet they cast eerie shadows that whispered of forgotten secrets and restless souls, wandering the corridors in search of solace from their eternal unrest.
The townsfolk whispered of NSFRTÅ, a name carved into the jagged stones of the abandoned abbey, its meaning lost to time but heavy with dread. On moonless nights, travelers claimed to hear the faint echo of hollow footsteps and a low, guttural hum rising from the crypt. No one dared to enter, save for the desperate or foolish, drawn by the lure of ancient riches buried deep within its shadowed halls. They never returned, their absence marked only by the cold silence that followed.
Notes: Black Pepper, Smoked Birch, Absinth, Dried Blood, Dark Rose, Patchouli, Incense, Leather, Vetiver, Ambergris.
Veiled in quiet sorrow, the young bride meets her future husband—a very old man—her gaze drifting downward, lost in dreams of an unknown fate. Flowers woven into her hair, she stands frozen in time, untouched by the world’s harsh breath. A faint glow softens her form as if the heavens themselves mourn her solitude. Beneath the delicate lace of her wedding gown lingers a melancholy, a secret unspoken, forever held in the folds of tradition and duty, as she faces a future unchosen.