UNSEEN
It can't hear you. It can see you.
You are locked in a dark house together — with friends, or with strangers. You have to find the keys and get out. Something taller than you is in there, and it is looking for you too.
THE MONSTER HAS ONE RULE
It sees, it does not hear. You can run, shout, slam a door — it will not hear you. But the moment you step into its line of sight, it is over.
That one rule shaped the whole game. Hiding stopped being a button and became standing in the right corner.
THE CHIPS
There are bags of chips on the floor. Eat one and you get faster — fast enough to outrun it. But now you smell, and smell goes through walls. It does not need to see you anymore.
THE MAPS
Every map has its own monster and its own rule. If you do not want to play the same game twice, the second map cannot be a copy of the first.
THE HOUSE
builtSecond floor. Black walls, grey bloodied concrete, writing on the walls. Look down through a window and there is a graveyard — and if you look at it, something wakes up. Find the keys, open the door, run. The thing inside is taller than you, has no face, and when it sees you it turns its head sideways and smiles.
BACKROOMS
builtYellow rooms, damp carpet, buzzing fluorescent light. No keys here — the way out is a portal, and the portal keeps moving so nobody can memorise it and farm easy points. You hear it before you see it: it hums. But here is the real thing: the portal does not take you out, it drops you a floor DOWN. There are four floors and each has its own creature with its own sense: the Pig Man sees, the Hound hears, the Death Moth sees your flashlight, the Skin-Stealer looks like another player. Going down is not seeing a new room — it is the rule you just learned no longer being true.
THE SCHOOL
builtA five-floor state school. Long corridors lined with lockers, classroom doors that all look the same: A1, B2, C3. On the ground floor a party stopped halfway through — confetti, bunting, and blood. The main entrance is barricaded from the inside with desks, so the only direction is up. The stairs alternate ends, so on every floor you have to walk the corridor from one end to the other, and the stairwell at the far end has collapsed. The way out is this: there is a phone in a room on the lower floors. Find it and carry it five floors up to the roof. Whoever calls from there brings a helicopter — but if the one carrying the phone gets caught, the phone stays where they fell.
GRANDMA'S HOUSE
nextNo monster here. A grandmother chasing you with a stick, which is worse: a monster has rules, a person does not.
DESIGN RULES
Design decisions, not code decisions.
- Keys hide in independent places
- Random placement could drop all three in one room and the round ended in that room. Now every key goes as far as possible from the ones already placed.
- The way out keeps moving
- Because players would memorise it and farm points. A fixed exit turns a maze into a running track on the second attempt.
- Getting caught means going down, not dying
- A friend can pick you up. This is what playing together actually means in the game: a downed player gives the others a reason to walk back toward the monster.
- Escape unseen and the gold doubles
- Meeting the monster is risky and optional; avoiding it entirely is rewarded. Patience wins, not bravery.
- Blindness only on hard
- And while blind, nothing in the world changes — only your screen goes dark. What you lose is information, not health. That is what makes it fair.
- Writing on the walls states, it does not threaten
- "I will kill you" is reassuring, because there is an intention facing you. "I can hear you breathing" is not.
- The phone belongs to the map, not to a player
- In the school, if the one carrying the phone gets caught it does not vanish with them — it stays where they fell. Had it stayed on the player, one person who could not get back up would quietly make the round unwinnable, and nobody would work out why.
- A closed road is not an invisible wall
- At one end of every floor in the school, the stairwell has collapsed. So the player says "this one caved in" instead of "you cannot get through here": one reads as a bug, the other as a story.
DEVLOG
Nine prototypes. Each one started because the last one got played and something turned out broken.
- 0A box chased you. Sight-based hunting worked — but there was no way to win.
- 1Rounds, keys and escape arrived. Three bugs; the worst was that you could not play alone.
- 2A real monster, a flashlight, a minimap. Complaint: "it gives up when I walk into the next room."
- 3The monster now searches. Breaking line of sight stopped meaning safety.
- 4Three difficulties, thirty levels. The building is generated fresh at every level.
- 5The Faceless arrived and replaced the zombie. The house moved to the second floor.
- 6The island, the pet shop, the store. Lighting and music entered the code for the first time.
- 7BACKROOMS. A second map, a moving exit, and the pig man moved into his own house.
- 8Backrooms became a depth: four floors, four new creatures, almond water, tapes. And two real bugs turned up — the monster was never actually walking, and because its sight never grew with the map it could not see a player standing right in front of it down a corridor.
- 9THE SCHOOL. A third map: five floors, real stairs, and a third rule — find it, carry it, call. A small three-room version was built first; it was called too small and grew to five floors.
HOW IT'S BUILT
Every level is generated from a seed by a pure function. The server builds the map from it, and each player's device draws its own minimap from the same function, so no layout data crosses the network and the two can never disagree.
- Roblox
- Luau
- Rojo (code in Git, synced into Studio)
- StyLua
- Node.js script that picks licensed sounds from the Creator Store
WHERE IT IS NOW
In private testing. Three maps are done — THE HOUSE, BACKROOMS and THE SCHOOL — and one is next. The next job is to play it and find out what is broken — because you only learn whether a game is actually scary once somebody plays it.