Ahndrian Archives

Malcolm sat back down in his computer chair and slowly lifted the headphones back up and onto his head. His chat was full of questions.

XProuder9: Where’d you go?

BoHarkness185: Dude, you look spooked!

AmenonexX: Is it so bad you have to go puke?

However, he wasn’t the only one who understood what was so terrifying about that particular image...at that specific time.

SeelieQueen: Maco...is that...

He didn’t respond, but he knew he didn’t have to. Instead, he stared at the image of the clock tower on the screen and tried to decide whether or not he really wanted to continue. After a moment to breathe, he decided he had to.

It’s only a game, he repeated to himself. No matter what the similarities are.

He clicked one last time to get the game started and for the first time, instructions appeared on the screen.

“Alright, let’s um...,” Malcolm struggled to organize his thoughts. He was still a bit shaken, and his words were beginning to fumble, “now that we’ve gotten through that ridiculous number of startup screens, let’s get to it.”

He scanned the instructions quickly and quietly first before giving his viewers the rundown, “Looks like we’re actually the villain here, people. We’ll be taking control of the killer and our goal is to get away with as many kills as you can to build the town’s fear level. The more bodies they find, the more likely the targets on your hitlist will go right where you want them. Win the game by killing at least three of the four targets without getting caught or dying.”

MilkSpace: Weird fantasies dev

CoachComa: Someone call the cops on the dude who made this #CREEEEPPPYYY

BoHarkness185: Fuck this, I’m out!

His chat was a mix of emotions towards the sinister nature of the game. Despite all their feelings, and his own, Malcolm couldn’t help but be impressed by the quality of the game. The graphics were incredibly sharp and realistic. Even the character movement once he exited the instructions felt smooth and worked well with the controls. If it weren’t for the intense creepiness he felt, it would be an undeniably solid game so far.

He moved his character up the streets a bit, exploring the game’s city. The darkness surrounding him in game kept his character shrouded as he snuck past groups of people, making sure he didn’t get caught before he even made his first kill.

He was good at it— as he expected. The stealth controls weren’t very innovative, but they responded well, and he used whatever he could to move through alleyways and hide around the corners of buildings until he finally spotted someone walking alone. He crept closer, staying out of sight as the man trudged down the sidewalk.

“Okay, time for the first kill of the game. Let’s see how these kill mechanics work,” he skimmed the instructions and relayed them like usual. “Alright, once we successfully sneak up on or encounter someone then you get a randomly rolled set of possible kills on the action buttons. Alright, what did we get?”

He exited the instructions and read over his options. They were mostly mundane— stabbing him in the back, cutting his throat, and of course a neck jab. Malcolm decided to take the fourth option and completely cut off the head. He figured it would at least be entertaining to his viewers.

Malcolm clicked the button and his character lunged forward, grappling the lone man. The camera rattled around as the target struggled, grunting noises and cries for help could be heard from him, but no sound seemed to come from Malcolm’s character. With a well-placed slicing sound and gratuitous blood splatter showering the game screen, a successful kill message appeared on the screen.

“Congratulations on your first kill. With each successful kill, the fear meter will rise and at various intervals you will gain new abilities,” Malcolm read off the screen. “So, I click here to claim my first kill rewards.”

He clicked the prompt, and he gained a new skill, “Utter Silence. Cause an area around you to lower drastically in volume. Sound is not completely gone, but it will be much more difficult for victims to hear you.”

Malcolm stared at the words for a moment longer after he read them. It was a common skill type in stealth games, but something felt off about it. Something was still making his skin crawl.

Malcolm glanced at the time. Twenty minutes had gone by so far while he played. He sighed and continued on. He had promised an hour per game, but he was getting more and more uncomfortable with the game the longer he played.

Street signs began to look all too familiar the further he walked, and by the time he caught on and followed his instincts, he ended up in the center of the map. Staring at exact replicas of Perdita’s, Mrs. Clare’s, and Mr. Dietric’s shops.

“What...the hell is this...?” Malcolm’s eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair, pulling his hands away from the keyboard.

R<PR: Feeling...nostalgic?

Malcolm grabbed his mouse and used his other hand to press the ESC key, trying his best to keep his composure while his live chat went on. Nothing happened. He pressed it a few more times and nothing popped up. He did everything he could think of, using every key shortcut he knew, but nothing would let him move the mouse outside of the game menu.

R<PR: Not yet

Malcolm’s breathing became heavier. More and more messages flooded the chat. Everyone was wondering why he wasn’t moving. They wanted to know why he had such a panicked look on his face. Some said the game was too much for him and they laughed it off. Others thought he looked sick.

He took a deep breath and forced his face into an awkward grin. He let out a small chuckle and looked back and forth between the camera and the one message being repeated over and over, jumping out at him.

R<PR: Not. Yet.

Game Saved