Ratings and Reviews by manonamora

do not let your left hand know is a horror single-choice game made in Twine, in which two women, Monica in 2017 and Lisa in 2024, struggle to keep hold of their bodies, something tries to take over. The game switches back and forth between the two as they are faced with revelations. This body and psychological horror story has two endings, through that final and only choice.

The game has an interesting discussion about identities, the persona we choose (or are forced) to bring forward in any given situation, and our relationships with our bodies. Monica feels like she is borrowing her body while travelling, as if pretending to be someone else and experience their life (want for happiness?). Lisa has a stable but boring life, but finds herself missing days on end, unable to remember things that she may have (not) done - like blanking at her desk for three days. Both harbour feelings that their body is not quite theirs, that it has somehow a mind of its own. As is, it makes for quite the distressing tale...

... but when it is revealed that (Spoiler - click to show)Lisa and Monica are just different sides of the same coin, that's when the horror really sinks in. Who was there first, really? Or (Spoiler - click to show)did they enter the body, like some parasite? or maybe even split following some trauma as some sort of response? Are there maybe more identities that neither Monica nor Lisa acknowledge? And who is actually in control, after all? technically you...
But the game doesn't care much in answering these questions, and is, instead, more interested in who should be in control of this body? This is what you are faced with at the end of the game, to choose between (Spoiler - click to show)Lisa with her boring life and unassuming personality, which makes her so forgettable that she'd spend three full days being catatonic before someone notices OR the social Monica who forged relationships in the past, made connections which brought her heart pumping. It's just one or the other. The left or the right hand. Whose side will you take?

While this is a powerful choice on its own, especially with the build-up of the previous passages, getting more and more distressing and gruesome, the game also makes it way to easy to impede on the significance of this choice. The interface lets you UNDO that choice with just a click on the bottom arrow (or save at the choice, then reload). And it doesn't make that final choice feel final.

I also struggled a bit with the formatting of the text. Mainly with the alignment of the text not always being contrasted enough between the left right and centre blocks (especially with long sentences/paragraphs) - smaller width would help section those blocks better. As well, a bit with the dialogue/thoughts lines, I wasn't always sure who was talking or whether it was inner thoughts (until the context kicked in, but it took me out of the immersion a few times).

Overall, a cool piece of horror, with a great sense of mystery and build-up.

Narthex is a tiny Moiki game, where you meet the eponymous character, a helpful little creature on your way to a party. The short story centres around challenges meant to be overcome (your anxiety towards the party and Narthex's imminent growth/evolution) and how external elements can empower one's will to confront those challenges (Narthex's enthusiasm calming your fear and the punk rock beats giving them power).

An intriguing point about the title: Narthex, which isn't just the name of the little creature, but also an architectural element in churches: its entrance, opposite to the main altar. And here you start, before the narthex of your party, unable to enter without that little push, even though it is meant to celebrate you, to see you front and centre (as if on an altar?).

Another, darker, take that crossed my mind was how I first interpreted the illustration of the party. Because of the simple drawing, of people waiting around, without a clear face drawn, I wondered for a moment whether this party (Spoiler - click to show)was supposed to be your funeral, and Narthex being there to help you accept the fact that you are dead/guiding you to peace (especially with their final winged form).

But I think, overall, it's meant to be a very sweet story, enhanced by adorable little illustrations and dope music.

Dark and Deep is a parser adaptation of a collection of poems, in which you incarnate a priest, called to an old woman’s bedside as she is about to die, to provide comfort in her final moment. Throughout the conversations, you learn more about the woman, and how certain rumours about her peculiar abilities fare true - which she temporarily shares with you. At its core, the story is one of loss and grief, regrets and deeply buried secrets.

I can’t say much about the adaptation of the poems, as I never encountered that poet prior to playing this game, though I do not believe being knowledgeable in English poetry is required to enjoy the story. I was hooked from the start. It is beautifully crafted, depicting life in all its glory and failures, all the good it can bring, all the ugly sides it can reveal, and all the bad you unearth.

The central mechanic offers a unique perspective, by flipping between the conversation between the priest and Mrs. Lajway in the present, and snapshots of her life in the past. The way the conversation deepens as you explore her life through her answers and those past snippets is really engaging. The further it goes, the more I wanted to know about this interesting woman and the life she left. It gave layers and complexity to an old woman, discarded by society.

In a way, that structure reminded me a bit of After the Accident, with the shift between past and present when “touchstones” are interacted with, yet still feels completely different and fresh. It enhances the codes of horror, by playing with your senses, as you see different things in the priest and Mrs. Lajway’s eyes, making you question reality (is all maybe just a trick of the mind? influenced by the bewitching words of an old woman’s tale?).

A very engaging and, at times, disturbing game. Would recommend in a heartbeat to horror fans.

Resurrection Gate is currently a demo for a larger dark fantasy RPG-like Twine game, in which you play different characters to explore themes of life, death and all that is between. Currently, only Yasha, a shellshocked hussar, and Laurence, a resurrected duke (my fav so far), are available, and only includes the first section of their respective paths.

As expected from this author, the game is highly customised, with distinct interfaces and styling for different sections, portraits of the protagonists and other NPCs in the scenes, as well as soundtracks and SFX to help set the mood. It also includes QOL settings: sound volume, fonts, theme, saves (I’d love a toggle for the animated text, the movement made me a bit nauseous). Similar to more visual novel programs, you can also use the SpaceBar to display the next section of the text (though you will still need your mouse to move to a new passage or click on dialogue/action options).

It took me a while to get into the game itself, as it throws a lot of information at you from the start, while expecting the players at time to already have certain knowledge (it’s a pretty long intro, and you also see this happening further in the demo). I don’t think I managed to immerse myself into the universe until after being introduced to the first protagonist. It quickly gets balanced by the RPG mechanic/choice options, which is very fitting for the this dark-fantasy setting. I think it was also smart to have a Trait-check from the start (making sure that central element is important in the gameplay), where it locks certain options if your level is not high enough. Honestly, it made me intrigued about what is hidden behind those locked choices (especially with the first PC).

It’s very obvious that there was a lot of care put into the demo (which, looking at the devlog, has been years in the making). There are a lot of intriguing elements that make me interested in seeing the final product (especially Laurence’s arc), and it makes me wonder how the game will evolve in subsequent updates. I’m interested in seeing how each character will move forward, as well as seeing how the different paths join (assuming the different PCs will meet at some point).

As the Eye Can See is a short emotional kinetic Twine piece, about the day before Halloween, and its meaning for the narrator throughout the year. From the contemporary date (Oct, 30h, 2024), the story portrays multiple vignettes of that day throughout the years, in reverse chronology.

It is both beautiful and haunting, in the way those recollection threads the life of our teenage narrator. It tells us her life has become quite lonely, following the loss of (Spoiler - click to show)her mother (an event that her father does not (wish to) discuss with her, nor does she seem willing to ask) - going as far, even, as rejecting the connections between those memories and things tied to them (like the familiar beautiful cottonwood which makes her feel too sentimental). With the writing focusing on details and things, all is actually said in hushed words, fleeting unacknowledged mentions, and unrecoverable memories. As if ghosts of the past were omnipresent, but unreachable or ignored.

This was a very melancholic piece, full of beautiful hidden meanings deepening with each new iteration of the day before Halloween.

your life, and nothing else is a short surreal horror interactive game made in Twine, where you live in a shared house with some peculiar individuals, a few of whom you’ve previously interacted with. You can wander through the building, check the common rooms in the lower floors, or see if your housemates want some company or require help with something. Whatever you can do to pass the time somehow.

Because you are essentially stuck in this monotonous life of waking up/checking on your neighbours/helping them with something/going back to bed, stuck in this shared house (unable or unwilling to leave?), stuck with yourself. But while your day-to-day doesn’t ever change, your surrounding does… and so do you.
Evolving slowing in this forced confinement, your health takes a toll, both physically (which you ignore to help your neighbours) and mentally (unease/paranoia building), while the building gets significantly hotter and filled with smokes.

The writing does a good job at creating this increasingly oppressing situation (which you both ignore, moving on with your day as if nothing was wrong, feel its effect on your health, but also question its happening) and the unsettling feelings that come along (what is this place? can we even get out? why can’t we??). The building of the tension is really well paced, helped with the cycle of different days/request to fulfil, and the formatting of the text (colours + timer) adds to the disturbing/disorienting feeling the changes bring.

YARRY is a short psychological horror choice game made in ChoiceScript, in which you play as young parent named Larry, whose two-year-old has decided to call him by the titular 'Yarry'. While one could brush it off as a toddler learning how to speak (yet able to pronounce complex sounds), the game takes a more unsettling approach: the child doesn't just misname you, he is suddenly repelled by you.

From loving parent, you are, for no clear reason, relegated to a stranger by your own flesh and blood. Worse still, it seems that people don't seem to care or mind about your discomfort ((Spoiler - click to show)your wife even shows to know more than you do about your son's reasons for acting this way, but doesn't care to share or (Spoiler - click to show)the daycare employee brushing off your concerns or uneasiness as a usual period for kids that age), as if they are all in on a joke and excluding you.

And there is truly little you can do to help with the situation: no matter you actions, your son always cries in your presence, wishing you wouldn't be there. Whether you make peace with this new form of your name, pretend nothing is wrong, or fight for your identity at every turn, you are always hopeless against your environment.

It is very unsettling, that even with a change seemingly so minor (just one letter in your name not being pronounced correctly) affecting you so deeply, yet your feelings are never really acknowledged or accepted.
It questions even the validity of your feelings: are you in the right, fighting for your name/identity (fighting your child?) or just overreacting (his just a kid, after all)?
And as a player, you have to wonder: is the narrator telling us everything with regards to how we got here (the sudden change being random or building up over-time? are we maybe just exhausted as a new parent and it's clouding our judgement?) or purposefully obfuscating information (are we a bad parent? did we do something wrong? or is there something nefarious at play)?

The writing really does a good job at making you question everything, and creating this unsettling environment (where clearly something is wrong, but why are you the only one seeing it???).
However, I do wish the game was longer, where you'd have the option to confront the child, or at least your wife (even if you end up looking like a crazy person in the process), or have more situations where you name is wrong (an exchange with your family/friend?) or actually someone saying your name correctly... but as a joke! But, for an under four-hour-created story, it manages to be just enough to give you the creeps.

Contaminated Space is a short sci-fi horror-y Twine piece, where you embody a lone(ly) spaceman, dealing with the consequences of entering a contaminated space. In this lonely trip, taken as a break from reality, moving further and further away from home (escaping? fleeing?), silence and space are your only companion. Perfection found in quiet, cleanliness, and simpleness (like the overall formatting).

All contrasted with the contaminated space, quarantined sections of the universe due to their potential danger, horrors that could infect and destroy worlds. None who enter are allowed to leave. Careless with your safety in your goal to reach an impossible unsullied state, you miss every warning sign… until it is much too late.

In your wish to be alone, you are taken over by a whole. In rejecting your personhood, turning into a husk of yourself, you become a host, a filled shell for another. In your aimless journey, a purpose is forced upon you. In your deliberate want to be unbothered, you are disturbed.

This was disturbing to read (in all the best ways). The glitchy-ness of the text, jumbled/broken thoughts, the back and forth between the entities, made all the wrongs so wrong, but all so good too.

Mathphobia is a decadent puzzle fest of a text-adventure.
While your classmate rejoice in the Halloween break counting their candies, you are stuck at home solving a metric-ton amount of maths problems. As the night progress, and you are no closer to be done on time (it’s due in the morning!), you are visited by a strange character, who takes on an adventure in a faraway fantasy land, terrorised by Archfiend of Arithmetic, and… where maths is the only way to defeat them.

So you go on this adventure, where maths solves everything under the sun, travelling the land, helping folks with their measurement problems, and defeating in each region a villain specialised in one type of arithmetic (subtractions, divisions, multiplications…). The calculations starts off pretty easy, amping up in difficulty when moving to a new section of the game. While some of the latter problems may be difficult (or annoying/impossible to solve if you are mathphobic), you get as many tries as you need (or check the cheat-sheet - which I’ve done for the last-ish problems)!

The premise is really silly (but down-right tortuous for this poor child!), but the writing hooks you so easily (even if, like me, solving maths puzzles isn’t a fun time). The humour is full of charm and levity, and of puns (especially the villains, that cracked me up). It’s was downright impossible for me not to cheer for the kid, and do my best to help them save the land. And by the end, weirdly satisfying to actually solve that many maths problems without help.

Anyway, it was silly fun (that made me do maths against my will, gasp)! I’d even recommend it to tweens.

Ghost Hunt is a tiny Adventuron game, where you must find and catch the ghosts of long passed family members (all because you wanted to use a casket as a decoration for Halloween). Since catching a ghost is not an easy affair, the ghost of your great-grandfather gives you a box that will do the job for you, if you manage to find the ghost in the first place.

It is a pretty simple parser, with a very limited map and verb list, and generous directions on how to proceed with the descriptions/responses. It’s a polished parser starter-friendly game.