Love Makes Monsters of Us All: Crimson Peak by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab | Haute Macabre

Love Makes Monsters of Us All: Crimson Peak by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

Crimson Peak by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

Ghosts are real, that much I know. I’ve seen them all my life…

In a groundbreaking departure from past film tributes, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab presents a series of scents, jewelry, and more inspired by Guillermo Del Toro’s sumptuous gothic romance, Crimson Peak.

A limited edition collection of twenty-six scents, along with nail lacquer, atmosphere spray, jewelry, and treasure boxes, Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab has truly crafted a breathtaking array of scents and mementos, invoking the ethereal ambiance and gothic tones of the film.


Haute Macabre is pleased to announce we are giving away a set of three of the limited edition fragrances:

Edith Cushing, Sir Thomas Sharpe, and my personal favorite of the line, Lady Lucille Sharpe.

To enter to win: follow Black Phoenix and Haute Macabre on Instagram and on the BPAL and HM Facebook Pages, and leave a comment below. Bonus points if you tell us about your very own ghostly encounters.

We’ll pick a winner from the comment section at random one week from today, on Thursday November 10, 2015.

105 Comment

  1. So, Samantha and I were reading through all of these yesterday, and I mentioned to her that while I did have something in my house, it was very subtle. Matrixing, mostly, but everything always looks like to same guy. I call him Mr. Henry. He’s tall and thin and old, but with good posture. I’ve lived in this apartment for three years, I’ve always seen him, and that’s it. I have assumed he was just an echo, a residual, not a proper haunting.

    After telling Sam about him, he was on my mind. I was home alone last night, and as usual I caught a glimpse of him in a mirror. I was thinking how odd it was that he should be so regular but the house seem so quiet. It seems he picked up on my train of thought and decided to let me know that he is no residual, he just has manners.

    I went to bed, and slept soundly for a couple of hours. The I was awakened by a single, clear, knock on wood- right in the room with me. Right by me, in fact. I think it was my on craft bin, no more than a couple of feet from the head of the bed. I woke up and for a minute thought Mark had come home, but the house was totally still. I lay in bed a minute listening for any further sounds, but there were none. I though about getting up and checking just in case there was someone in the house, but it’s a small place and I heard nothing. I lay there for between a minute and a half and two minutes, and was just getting up, when I heard the key in the lock and Mark came in. Obviously I asked if maybe he had been in the hall doing something noisy before he came in, but no- he had come straight in from the elevator, so he couldn’t even have been on our floor when I heard the knock.

    Which is when I realized it was Mr. Henry, and exactly what he had done. He had knocked when Mark got into the building. Loud enough to wake me up, but not so loud as to seem angry or aggressive. When I was alone and the house was quiet enough for me to be sure it was him, but at a time when I wouldn’t be freaked out for long if I did freak out. And in a way that let me know he was totally intelligent and responsive. So I laughed and told him I got the message. I just have a very polite ghost.

  2. My ghost story takes place at an old theatre. I worked therefore seven years. It was your typical old 1920s theatre, single screen. It was my first day and I was waiting for a ride at the end of the night. The manager said I could wait inside but he had to go. He told me to be sure I pulled the door shut behind me. Then proceeded to shut out all the lights. The only light was from the exit signs. Then he happily went on his way. I’m convinced he knew just what would happen, having worked there for two decades himself. I sat on a bench with my back to the wall and waited for my ride. I was there for maybe 10 minutes when I heard a cough come from the auditorium, which was to my left through an open doorway. No lights were on in there either except for the red exit lights. I knew it was empty because the manager and I did the walkthrough checking for errant guests. I didn’t bother looking in because that’s when you see things. I got up and moved toward the door to go outside but then considered whether it was unsafe to do so and I tried to rationalize what I heard. As I stood there looking out the glass door hoping for my ride I felt a hand on my shoulder and it was pushing me toward the door. I bolted and slammed the door behind me. I waited in the outdoor foyer for my ride trying to just not look back. My ride arrived a minute or two later. That never happened again but other things did in my seven years at the theatre. I got really attached to the place and I can see how spirits could.

  3. I grew up in a house built in s fairly old area. Several Revolutionary War battles had occurred not far off and there were multiple old cemeteries (1700s-on) just a few houses away. My parents decided the best way to deal with their angsty, goth teenage daughter was to finish the basement and put her room there. So I moved to the basement. The first night I woke up to several objects being knocked from my bookshelf. The following weeks multiple friends would come over and immediately ask me if my basement was haunted because “it felt weird”. For the next following weeks I would wake up to similar events of objects falling for no reason, and or sleep paralysis (which I had never gotten until moving to that room), but what really got me was waking up to my brand new kitten sitting in front of me growling at what appeared to be nothing. It got so bad I had to move back upstairs.

  4. It was a simple autumn’s night in the urban city. Nothing eerie or unusual about it. I slept soundly and I was suddenly awake. I had no recollection of having slept or having woken. I checked the time. It was about 3.30 AM. I was wide awake. I didn’t yawn. I simply stared at my ceiling. It was completely dark, the white walls looking a midnight blue through my eyes. Then I suddenly hurt three heavy boot steps outside of my room. And they stopped. Nothing moved.

    And that was that. I went back to bed. Awoke later in the morning, asked my mother if anyone had come home late that night. She said no one came home. ):