'Til Death is a perfume both divine and defiant. Beauty stitched from ruin. Built from the body of contradiction; delicate yet macabre, romantic yet electric. Warmed by your finger, this solid perfume melts into skin with intimate slowness. Narcotic florals first, then molten resins and quiet woods, clinging like a vow whispered at the edge of the grave. ‘Til Death is desire resurrected, velvet-dark, tenderly monstrous, and sworn to you until the last spark fades.

On a shadowed table, a creature is assembled: petal by petal, resin by resin. Jasmine and rose are stitched together like pale, cadaverous skin, trembling beneath the spark of creation and stained by vintage violet, a floral ghost revived from another century. “I thought about the materials as parts of her body,” Douglas Little says. “Jasmine as flesh. Wood as bone. Frankincense as breath or spirit. Each one necessary. Each one inert on its own.”

The opening is the first assembly. Jasmine Sambac arrives indolic and feral, lush and alive, humming with heat. It is the flesh. The pulse. The undeniable proof of life. This is not a bridal jasmine. It is nocturnal, animal, already aware of its own power.

Cedarwood follows, dry and structural, the spine that allows her to stand. It gives form and direction, resolve where there was once only potential. Frankincense drifts through like smoke over a ritual, sacred and unsettling, the echo of resurrection. It is the moment before movement. The pause before the body remembers itself.

As the scent settles, the heart begins to knit together. Violet Leaf cuts green and metallic, sharp as awareness returning. Orris Root brings pallor and powder, ghostly and cool, like skin before warmth has fully returned. Turkish Rose Oil blooms dark and obsessive, bruised rather than romantic, as if memory itself has been pressed into the body. These are the emotions being sewn in. Longing. Fury. Devotion. “This is where she becomes herself,” Little explains. “Not an object. Not an experiment. But a woman with memory, desire, and will.”

The base is where the scent stops narrating and starts inhabiting. Ambrette seed radiates a vegetal musk, warm and intimate, blurring the line between botanical and human. Cypriol drags the fragrance into shadow, smoky and earthen. Labdanum and benzoin pour in with resinous depth, warm as ambered blood, binding every seam with ache and devotion. Tonka bean is pressed into the chest as the final spark. Then the storm breaks, lightning, breath, life, and the fragrance awakens.

Jessie Buckley’s Bride is not reanimated from parts alone. She is assembled from hunger, awakening, and rage held just beneath the surface. She is softness sharpening into will. To translate that into scent required something intimate and uncontainable.  “I wanted the scent to capture her monstrous beauty. The kind that frightens people because it refuses to be controlled or silenced. She is powerful precisely because she cannot be contained.” -DL

Dark as ink, this noir solid perfume dissolves on contact, leaving no trace but fragrance. 

“THE BRIDE!” is set in the 1930s, an era where glamour lived alongside ruin, where love stories burned fast and left wreckage behind. It was a decade intoxicated by the surreal. Beauty fractured and reassembled itself through dream logic. The strange became irresistible. Beauty was no longer about perfection. It was about provocation. 

In the 1930s, solid perfumes were objects of secrecy and seduction, small mirrored compacts tucked into clutches and kept close to the heart. Before the atomizer, perfume was a ritual of intimacy, a balm applied by fingertip to pulse points, a secret shared only with the body. Now, Heretic reanimates that tradition for a story about reanimation itself. ’Til Death is a solid perfume, poured by hand into a blackened silver compact, recalling the clandestine glamour of the 1930s. It is not sprayed. It is touched. Anointed. Brought to life, like the creature at the center of “THE BRIDE!”. Solid perfume is intimate, as it requires touch. It warms with skin and reveals itself slowly. The waxes and oils cradle the raw materials, allowing the scent to unfold gradually, like a secret shared only with those who dare to come close.

The compact carries the aura of a lost relic, its surface darkened by time, edges glinting like sutures catching the light. Inside, a mirror reflects both maker and monster; outside, lightning vein etching arcs across the lid. This is beauty with a pulse, strange, tender, and terrifyingly alive. This limited object d’arts is available while supplies last.

Heretic has joined forces with Writer/Director Maggie Gyllenhaal's "THE BRIDE!", a radical reimagining of the Frankenstein myth starring Jessie Buckley. Together they conjure a scent that celebrates the monstrous act of creation, the moment where beauty and horror become indistinguishable.

The collaboration embodies the shared soul of cinema and alchemy, both concerned with bringing the inanimate to life. The construction of this scent mirrors The Bride’s making. Each material chosen not simply for how it smells, but for what it becomes when joined to the others. Like limbs laid out on a table. Like breath waiting for electricity. Perfumery and cinema also share an obsession with tension. Both are built on anticipation, on what is about to happen rather than what already has. ’Til Death unfolds like the film itself. Slowly at first. Then all at once. 

There are films that flicker across the screen and disappear, and then there are films that leave a residue. A trace. Something that clings to the body long after the lights come up. “THE BRIDE!” belongs to the latter category. A monstrous love story. Bonnie and Clyde colliding with Sid and Nancy. Romance at full throttle, doomed and defiant, violent with feeling. This is not a story about a monster. It is a story about what happens when love refuses to behave. When desire becomes dangerous. When a woman discovers that her voice, once awakened, cannot be quieted. ’Til Death exists inside that same emotional gravity. It is reckless. It is intimate. It is alive with contradiction. Softness sharpened into strength. Beauty edged with menace. It’s a celebration of transformation and imperfection, proof that beauty need not be perfect to be eternal. When we were invited into the world of The Bride, the question was not “what does this film smell like?” but “who does she become when no one is watching?”

There is an old belief that scent is the last sense to leave the body. That even when everything else has gone quiet, smell remains, tethered to instinct and memory. ’Til Death lives in that belief. It is not polite. It is not safe. It stays close to the skin and refuses to behave. A perfume born from cinema, carried by the body, and uncontained by death. A trace of love so monstrous it survives everything.

Our fragrances are gender-neutral and made for everyone.

APPLICATION: Warm with fingertip and apply to pulse points. We use plant-based natural ingredients, which means our scents are light and sheer. To increase staying power, you’ll want to apply the fragrance periodically throughout the day. 

LAYERING: We also encourage you to layer two to three Heretic fragrances not only to increase the overall intensity but to help you create your next signature scent. Choose heavy and lighter blends to layer together, spraying or dabbing the stronger scent first. View the “Layer With” section above for our perfumer’s recommendations.

RETURNS: We only accept returns for defective or damaged products. If you’d like to sample the fragrance first, we recommend you start with one of our Discovery Sets or take our Fragrance Finder Quiz for a personally recommended scent.

SHIPPING: At this time, we ship within the contiguous United States, the EU, the UK, Canada, Australia and the U.K. To see our shipping zones, see our FAQ.  If you'd like to see if there is a retailer in your area, please use our store locator.

Free U.S. shipping on orders of $125 or more (a $10 flat-rate applies to orders under $125). See FAQ for international shipping rates.