Day 19 of the October Horror Reviews: Wick Let's try something different for this review. It's a cold, bitter night. Encouraged by friends to take part in a local ritual, you're told the tragic, heart-wrenching tale of a family who lost everything - five children and two parents, seemingly gone and long perished after a mysterious fire. You listen, but only halfheartedly. While you doubt the legitimacy of their tale, you also feel the pangs of anxiety as the leaves tear under your feet, owls calmly hooting across a network of trees. You're not prepared for this, no teenager wants to be in the woods late at night. It feels outright stupid to be out here. Ushered by manipulative stares, mischievous smirks and the promise that you'll never have them think you a chicken again, you take your only bastion of comfort through the night from your friend's hand - a single, wax candle. The texture is unpleasant, and as you steady your grip, you give them one final look as they close the creaking wooden gate behind you. You let out one breath, an anxious sigh as you listen to their giggles and jokes while they walk away, leaving you in the vacuous, potent darkness. Quiet night. But the silence feels like a double-edged knife, callously pressing against your chest. You can hear the beating of your own heart, the hastening of your breathing, and without waiting any longer, you draw a match from your pocket and set it alight. For a split second, you could swear you see the shadows dancing *away* from the flame. As if they're terrified of the light. You quickly light your candle, your only ally through what will certainly be the longest night of your life. The purity of the flame burns through the feral dark, and as you take your first steps further into these woods alone, you note a glistening from a distance. Something's twinkling. Multiple things, actually. You note their directions, you've never witnessed anything like it, something that glistens with such certainty in the cloak of night. As you approach the first sparkling object, you could swear you feel a presence. The trees feel as though they're closing in on you, watching you. Your pace increases, you want the night to be over, more foliage breaks and rips under your feet and finally, you set your eyes on what was sparkling. Another candle. It's then that you notice that your hand has been crawling further down the candle you already had, it seemingly burns much faster than anticipated, and in a hurried desperation, you reach for the new one as your ears twitch at the sound of rustling in the trees above. Just in time, you pick it up, light it, hold it close and throw your gaze from side to side, up above, and you can't see anything - you let out a sigh of relief. Never again will you give into peer pressure, especially not when a black silhouette drops from the trees, as if materialising out of nothing. It lands, and raises its head - a child. Wearing a mask that smiles eerily at you. His uniform, despite him climbing trees and his moving about the woods, appears pristine, but you can't recognise the logo. Does it matter? He stares, and you stare back. Cocking his head, he doesn't speak, but instead utters a singular, guttural growl. You can't speak. You can't say anything, instead: Your foot pivots, and just as your body begins to move on its own, rushing away, you feel him charging at you. That's no ordinary child. Wick is a horror game that has been out a good few years, now. It feels like a bit of an evolution on the Slender formula with the FNAF timer, as instead of facing off against one enemy, you face off against a few, and their spawn conditions vary based upon your position in the map, what you're currently doing, if you have a candle lit, etc. The game punishes you for lazing around, the game punishes you for thinking you can simply run from every encounter, the game punishes you for not thinking outside the box. These kids aren't trapped animals lashing out, you're the mouse trapped in the cage with the snake that is the composite of each child, and while you can't escape, you simply have to survive. Every hour introduces a new threat, or upgrades the existing threats. Every hour also brings new collectables. Okay, the game hides the imperfect graphics behind a layer of darkness, and the sounds don't always come out so clearly, but there's a lot of love that's been invested into this game, and it's easily one you can play for hours. The difficulty spike feels fairly natural, and it's not an easy game (at least, not for me). I think you can take a lot from this game, and while it's not super scary, the little jumps here and there still startle me. It's cheap, easy to get into, but difficult to master. Definitely worth a try. 7.8/10
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