Colour Blind (Pokemon)

Colour Blind
============

Endless stories seem to present themselves of hacked games and such. Some more believable than others, some leave you questioning who would go out of their way to edit their own version of a game, just to spook a few unfortunate victims who happen to come to possess one. I've never made an attempt to acquire one myself, however what I am about to tell you all is the story of how one game, managed to find it's way into my hands.

I had decided to purchase one of the original Blue/Red/Yellow cartridges to play purely for the Nostalgic side of pleasure, so I made my way to the city, and found myself at the closest game shop I could find, Toy World.

Toy World outlets aren't dedicated to selling gaming merchandise, but I did recall seeing them sell games in the past. After a good browse of the shop, I found nothing, leaving with nothing in hand but some minor information which I acquired from one of the Shop clerks, who informed me that I would have better luck finding older games at GameTraders.

So I made my way there, obvious patience in my stride, I was feeling confident that I would find what I so desired with every step. I arrived at GameTraders, a very small shop in comparison to Toy World, for that I found myself feeling grateful. I felt excitement kick in when I spotted a Pokémon cartridge case, only to find out it was a copy of Silver, with no other Pokémon related GameBoy Colour cartridges in sight. My search spanned over most of the day, being informed one way, only to be sent another.

Patience wore thin, til I decided to head home with no spoils of hard searching. I arrived home, disappointed after all the effort, so I gave in to online purchasing. I lucked out with finding a copy of Yellow being sold 3 blocks away from my home. I got hold of the owner, who was a girl who sounded no older than myself, 17-18. I practically ran out the door, hopped on my pushbike and made haste to the address.

When I arrived, I knocked on the door, to be answered by a relatively attractive girl,her only flaws seemed to be her unkept appearance. Bed hair, with clothes that crossed the borderline of being considered home-comfort to homeless rags, but it did not matter. I gave her the money, she gave me the game. Something felt eerie from how silent she was, vocally and physically. As I walked away after giving thanks, she mumbled out "You won't save him". I paused, confused at her implication, then left with another praise of thanks.

I arrived home, still curious as to what she meant by "You won't save him", it made me feel uneasy. But, nonetheless, I immediately started up Yellow on my trusty GameBoy Advance SP. That's when things got interesting. Normal titles appeared in their very nostalgic order, but the intro did not play. It went straight to the menu, which simply had the Games title, with no Pikachu in sight, only a boy with black hair, crouched with his arms extended, face hidden in shadow, facial features unable to be made out.

I instantly found disappointment. A hacked game, presumably one made to creep the victim out. But, I had gained no other copy of the game, I paid for this, and I was curious as to how this version was laid out. Hitting start, the basic title came up, except continue was the only available option of gameplay. Naturally, I hit continue. The game faded in to the lead characters bedroom, where the trainer was seated, staring amongst paintings and a map on the wall.

I decided to check out this playthrough's spoils of gameplay, so I brought up the start menu, and noticed the name. "Dain". A nice name, I admit, not a cliched name such as Red, or Yellow in this case. Moving on, I checked my trainer card, starting trainer cash, zero badges, everything seemed at norm, except for the portrait of the trainer.

As mentioned earlier on, a black hair boy, a very defined Japanese hairstyle, swept over to a side, all spiky and awesome, I found it to be in my favor. He was expressionless. No smile, a bare featured face, with dark eyes, and a stare that left you curious to his story. I found myself wanting to play through this hack, wanting to explore the unexplored, based in a childhood game.

I proceeded to check my Pokémon team, naturally finding a level 5 Pikachu, nicknamed "Ladie". I found that interesting, but she was a standard, level 5 Pikachu. After I was downstairs, I spotted my mother, who had a different hairstyle to the preset version, but seemed all the same, with dialogue etc. etc. I left the house, which was the house on the left, and Pallet town seemed to be normal. So I explored, my rivals house first, which was set-up as a normal NPC house, no rival sign out the front, but after speaking with the mother, it seemed Dain was a friend to the girl who lived here, named "Delia". I went upstairs, walked over and started a conversation with Delia. She seemed glad to see Dain, ranting on about how cute Ladie was.

She then prompted me a question, "Do you think I should get a Pokemon too? Become traveling partners, wouldn't it be fun?"

I chose yes, then shortly after her immediate ecstatic reaction, SNAP! The power turns off on the GameBoy. Frustration and confusion hit me at the same time, but I stubbornly turned the game back on. It jumped directly to the menu screen, with the title, and Dain standing with Delia, showing a small smile upon his face, which in turn made me smile. It seemed I lucked out on a hacked game with a luring progressive character storyline! I knew this game had me, I was hooked, I spent hours over the next few days traveling and collecting badges, all the while with Delia as company!

The storyline was laid out exactly the same as the default storyline, however fame of Dains battling efforts seemed to grow. Every NPC seemed to recognize him! I loved that Dain would occasionally speak, a rare feat in Pokémon games, almost a childhood dream in fact. He progressively got happier as I pushed him through the game, the occasional change of face on his trainer card, and his relationship with Delia seemed to grow more in depth after every gym. I made Ladie strong. She was by all rights my main,and was ahead the rest of my party, which only featured the obtainable free Charmander/Bulbasaur/Squirtle through the game.

I continued on, pushing through, until I arrived at Victory Road, where Delia asked to meet up later, as she wished to visit a friend in Viridian. I decided to see what would happen if I said no, so no I said. She seemed down at the reply, and asked if I wished to go with her. So I did, I wanted to get more in depth with Delia's storyline as well as Dain's. So we arrived at the house with basic NPC's, which made no special dialogue with me, so I left, and decided to give Viridian gym a look around, seeing as it was the final gym I had yet to conquer, and noticeably the one I had to forgot to challenge in my haste to the Elite Four.

That's when I was prompted by a caretaker of the Gym. "Do you wish to hold a strong position in Viridian? Possibly as Viridians Gym Leader? Viridian City lost it's previous Gym leader several years ago, he passed on, may he rest in peace. But nonetheless we require a new Gym Leader. You have grown renown Dain, word of your strength has reached nearly all of Kanto. It is only natural that the title of Viridian Gym Leader be given to someone of your attire?"

I said yes. Good God I said yes, I had never felt excited as I did at that moment. I had always wondered what being a Gym Leader would be like in one of these games. Ignoring all remarks I've heard over the years that all you would do is stand aimlessly waiting for the odd trainer to challenge you. Then, without warning, SNAP! Off went the power once more. Seeming less surprised than the first time it had happened, I turned on the console, and was directed to the menu.

There stood Dain, in a completely new attire, a dark grey outfit, suited to the Gym of Ground of course, I liked the look of it. Dain was also surrounded by a new party. Rhydon, Graveller, Kangaskhan, a very fitting party. However Ladie remained there, by Dains leg. But she looked...sullen. Sad, perhaps sad to the change? By then it dawned on me that Delia was missing from the image. In fact Dain's expression showed a weak smile. Something must have happened between the two when I accepted the role as a Gym Leader, so I hastily clicked continue. It faded in to the Gym, Dain standing there in all his glory, however I had no control over him. Then I realized this was a cinematic. It faded in, and out of countless battles, seemingly depressing 8-bit music playing in the meanwhile. Eventually, it faded to a black screen altogether, and a "One year later" appeared on the screen.

Then, vision of the game faded in, to nothing more than Lavender Towns Pokémon Tower, where Dain stood in front of a tombstone, Delia standing behind him, a step to the right. "I am so sorry Dain... she must've been everything to you.."

It was then it hit me. "Her". I think I knew exactly who had died in the passing year. Subsequent to the change of life, it would only make sense. I was give control once more, and I hesitantly clicked on the tombstone. "Here lies Ladie. Kanto's little flash of yellow, loved by all, fathered by Dain. Rest in peace". I was so in depth in the game at that moment that it was the soaked screen that snapped me out of it. I was crying, crying so hard over the loss over the Pokémon I had trained from the start. It was my fault it had died, I made those stupid decisions to completely change Ladie's life by becoming a Gym Leader, knowing that Ladie wouldn't be fit for the Gym. Guilt-written, I turned off the game, hoping to find a possible way to alter the storyline.

I arrived at the menu once more. No Pokémon stood with me. No Delia to comfort the loneliness. Just Dain, standing there. In all his.. "Glory". Tears had begun to run dry by this point, looking upon Dain's face, only to find an even more ominous shadowed face than when I first began. I clicked Continue, to instantly be shown a cinematic between Dain and Delia. Delia was crying, Dain arguing. It seemed Delia decided to comfort Dain with her presence after Ladie died, as he had given up on everything.

Then she left. With nothing but "I thought I could save you". I couldn't believe it. The previous owner of this game's warning entered my head. She warned me. Even now I brushed it off. I had just ruined Dain's last chance of friendship, all of it, my fault. I gained control once more, and I decided to check my menu. No Pokémon. Then, the trainer card. There it was. The original crouched position Dain was in when I first started. I wanted to strangle the person who made this by now, searching for an excuse that all this wasn't my fault.

Dialogue broke me out of the menu, surprising to say the least.

Dain: Ladie... gone. Delia... I'm sorry..

SNAP!

Ominous silence crept into the fray of my room. I felt continued disappointment. I sullenly paused at restarting the game. Asking myself if it was worth it. I might as well, I don't think I could get any more depressed at my vain efforts of getting Dain back on track, so I turned it back on. Usual lack of intro, but this time it went straight to the save file. Dain was standing out the front of his house, speaking to Delia. I almost yelped in delight there and then. Things possibly might have gone back on track. But the dialogue that followed, proved that hope wrong.

Dain: Keep the house, Mum would've liked you to have it anyway.

Delia: .. and where will you go? Don't do this Dain, you'll be a father soon..

Dain: I'd make a bad father anyway, I've already lost one child. She was all I had.

A father? That I was not expecting. This story was so intriguing. The implied child was obviously Ladie. But I was moreso interested that Delia would be staying in Dain's house, and where would he be going? The cinematic came to a fade, leaving Dain departing from Pallet. Dain appeared in Viridian City, standing outside the Gym. He silently trodded off, at half pace. Dialogue kicked in.

Dain: ... I know Ladie can't come back. Nor will any Pokémon fill the gap she left. But that won't stop me from acquiring one..

This world is cruel, undeserving of such Pokemon.

A villainous plot. How predictable and cliched. I didn't complain though, I moved on, and continued on. I gained control over Dain, and did the usual check of his status. A ground type party. The original party I was given when I accepted the role as a Gym Leader. Interesting. I check the trainer card. Dain is wearing a striped suit. His facial features much more defined and mature, Dain looked an adult now. I exited the menu, and instantly lost control, as Dain started a long journey through Kanto.

He walked, through Pewter, to Celadon, through Saffron, until he arrives in Lavender. Of course, a final farewell to Ladie before he sets off to a new life. He entered the Pokémon Tower, made his way to Ladie's tombstone, and gave me control to interact with it.

Dain: Here lies Ladie. My little flash of Yellow. You were my love to Delia, my Ladie.

I will never find another you, but a Pikachu I will find. I have lost strength to travel Kanto again, so I will form an organization to purge Kanto for me. I came in here as Dain, but I will leave as another, to start anew. As in depth as I was at this point, it was obviously noticeable of the layout of "Delia" and "Ladie". Same letters, spelt out differently. It seemed Ladie was Dain's way of showing his compassion to Delia in physical form. His love and strength, dedicated to a single person through his beloved Pokémon. Dain began walking amongst the other tombstones. Curiously, I attempted to press A, which started a minor dialogue.

Dain: I must find a name appropriate to depart with...Then he stopped at one. A tombstone singled out from the rest. I clicked on it, nerves settling in from what was about to appear.

"Here lies Giovanni."

---

Ketsuban (Pokemon)

Ketsuban
========

“Rhydon, use fissure!”

The Gym floor shook beneath Rhydon’s feet as it let out a tremendous bellow. If this move hits… SpriteGiovanni

All at once, an enormous crack opened in the earth. A gaping maw stretched across the gym floor, speeding rapidly towards the move’s target. Closer, closer…and the fissure opened up beneath the opposing Blastoise, sending it tumbling down untold feet into the darkness below. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the tear was gone. The gym floor shone flawlessly under the cold, synthetic light, and Blastoise was nowhere to be seen.

The opposing trainer’s tears fell swiftly now, splashing silently onto the pristine tiling into which his Pokémon had vanished.

“Where…where’s Blastoise? Where…did he go?” The trainer was staring listlessly at the ground, refusing to move an inch. He was obviously in shock over the sheer magnitude of his defeat; Giovanni would have to remedy this.

“Pay up, kid”, ordered Giovanni in a low voice. The trainer acquiesced resignedly, forfeiting half of his life savings into Giovanni’s waiting palm. But he still refused to leave. “Go home”, commanded the leader, now slightly irritated. “You’re holding up the line.”

The trainer looked about himself in a dazed state, and noticed the challenger standing behind him, a small, black-haired boy of perhaps ten years of age. “Oh…sorry, I…I didn’t notice”, mumbled the defeated trainer with a small nod, and he at last began to pace resolutely back towards the Gym’s front door.

Giovanni turned his attention to the black-haired boy, who had stepped forward. He was wearing a red jacket over a black t-shirt and had a red-and-white cap pulled low over his eyes. Giovanni was intrigued by this challenger; something about him was unsettling, something about his slow, measured pace and expressionless visage seemed somehow…alien. But that was of no consequence; nobody had ever defeated Giovanni’s main team, and he was not about to let this child become the first.

“Welcome”, spoke Giovanni in a cool, intimidating tone. “I am the Viridian City Gym Leader. Do you dare to challenge me?” Giovanni rose to his full height. “I am the greatest trainer the world has ever known! I have defeated countless thousands in this very spot! Thousands upon thousands of championship dreams, terminated right where you’re standing! And yet you still dare to forever risk your only aspiration by blithely challenging my undefeated team?” The speech had been delivered flawlessly, and Giovanni felt quite proud of himself; surely, the child had by now realized his insignificance, surely he was at this moment quaking in his boots.

And yet, the challenger showed few outward signs of his distress. Giovanni’s oratory had reduced countless grown men to sniveling, crying imbeciles by means of that very speech, and yet here was a child, a whelp no more than ten years old, standing his ground. Rather than break down, the challenger nodded and stepped noiselessly forward. The effect was disconcerting, and Giovanni’s voice displayed an imperceptible faltering. “Very well…then let us begin.” Giovanni threw his first Poké Ball.

A stream of crimson light issued forth from the Poké Ball, quickly coalescing into Giovanni’s Rhyhorn. Rhyhorn was Giovanni’s usual lead, and had served him admirably in the past by gauging the strengths and identifying possible weaknesses of his opponents. The terrifying spectacle of the three-foot tall Rhyhorn’s single-minded charge attack had caused many to resign their challenge in terror by itself. But the child stared unflinchingly at Giovanni’s Pokémon, and threw down a Poké Ball of his own.

But there was a problem; the device was malfunctioning. This was unheard of; Poké Balls were made on assembly line now, and, as Kanto’s only major export, each Poké Ball had to be flawless. Those with faulty machinery were without exception weeded out somewhere in the manufacturing process; as a former head of Silph Corporation, Giovanni knew that. So what was wrong with the child’s Poké Ball?

Instead of releasing the customary beam of light, the Poké Ball was shaking eccentrically, without any discernable rhythm, and emitting periodic bursts of red light from its central seam. As bloody sparks jumped across its surface, the Poké Ball seemed ready to explode from the pressure of whatever was inside of it. Suddenly, the Poké Ball released its laser, but, instead of the customary red, it was a pale and sickly orange.

When the light faded, Giovanni caught his first glimpse of the thing that the Poké Ball had vomited. It was a pile of trash, just sitting there on the floor of the gym. Without warning, and before Giovanni could get a closer look, the pile of trash expelled a stream of pale brown-colored liquid, hissing and spurting as it did so.

“Water Gun”, commanded the challenger.

The fluid squirted through the air and impacted Rhyhorn squarely in the face. Giovanni’s face betrayed his worry; Rhyhorn did not usually survive any decently-powered Water- or Grass-type moves. Yet Rhyhorn did not falter; the pile of trash’s Special must have been completely pathetic for Rhyhorn to take such a small amount of damage.

But something was wrong. Something was…off about Rhyhorn after the brown liquid contacted him. Giovanni could sense it, though he couldn’t quite discern what it was; something seemed different about the shape of Rhyhorn’s back or the pattern of his armor plates. Giovanni only became truly alarmed when Rhyhorn did not turn his head, as usual, to receive orders; he stood unmoving, frozen to the spot from which he had received the attack. Giovanni walked around Rhyhorn to examine his face, and found it scrambled, with no discernable features. Various pieces of eyes, mouth, and nose were scattered haphazardly around its ruined face, which resembled a disassembled jigsaw puzzle on a featureless grey background. Giovanni was aghast. “Rhyhorn? Rhyhorn…use…Fury Attack! Rhyhorn?” Rhyhorn was not fainted, and showed no signs of collapse or fatigue. But he was clearly dead.

Giovanni could not look at the horror that his Pokémon had become, so he returned it to its Poké Ball. He could not lose; his team was undefeated, and this…thing would surely not prove a challenge to his stronger Pokémon. He decided to immediately move up a tier in strength, and so summoned Nidoking from its Poké Ball. Nidoking emerged with a savage scream, but Giovanni’s attention was focused on the pile of trash. As he searched for a weakness, he came to a sudden realization; most of what he had previously assumed to be trash consisted of discernable pieces of various Pokémon. Here was a Bulbasaur tail, there a Fearow beak and a Blastoise arm, all haphazardly stitched together into some kind of abominable mass and mixed in with…other things, things that he could not recognize. There were letters and numbers, pieces of signs and buildings, and chilling geometric patterns that he could not even begin to identify.

And it was distinctly larger than it had been thirty seconds ago. With each passing second, the thing…grew, Giovanni thought he noticed. It was a slow process, but the pile of trash appeared to be steadily expanding without any external source. But maybe that was just a trick of the light…

Giovanni didn’t even know where to look for a weakness, or what such a weakness would even be; but he did know that this monstrosity had to somehow be stopped. So he ordered Nidoking to attack.

“Nidoking, use Thrash!”

Nidoking looked around for a moment, wondering where the attack was even directed. Nidoking was considerably smarter than Rhyhorn, smart enough to notice that there weren’t actually any other Pokémon in the arena. Nidoking turned to look at Giovanni, who, presented with what might very well have turned out to be the last time he ever saw Nidoking whole, felt a sudden surge of regret. He pointed ruefully at the pile of trash, which had taken on an unmistakably crimson hue. Giovanni had seen it before, he thought, but he could not remember when…

Nidoking never got his close look at his foe. He was not one to disobey orders, for Giovanni was a hard master…and so Nidoking charged. He rammed fist after massive, armor-plated fist into the thing, but it showed no signs of any external damage or fatigue. It just sat there, glowing. As the word popped into his head, Giovanni knew what was about to happen. He tried to shout, tried a second too late to warn Nidoking of his fate. But Nidoking was so absorbed in its Thrash attack that it failed to notice, and so the end came quickly.

“Sky Attack”, said the challenger. His lips, Giovanni saw, did not move when he talked, but remained frozen open. In fact, he had not moved at all since the battle had begun. Giovanni suddenly began to wonder if he even could. The boy’s clothes were becoming distorted, becoming numbers and letters and Pokémon fragments one piece at a time. There were endless, mesmerizing geometric patterns in his eyes…

Nidoking flew through the air and smashed against the ceiling of the Gym with a reverberating crash. The collimated light from Giovanni’s Poké Ball intercepted the hapless Pokémon before the floor could; Giovanni did not want to have any opportunities to get a good look at the remains of his Nidoking. If only he had chosen a different move, Nidoking might have been saved…

The trash was not just larger now, but…spreading. The walls were spattered with it, oozing with Pokémon, and Giovanni’s pristine floor was covered in refuse. As Giovanni reached uncertainly for another Poké Ball, he discovered that his hand no longer fit securely around it in the position to which he had long been accustomed. For even he had not escaped the trash’s corrupting influence; his hand, though retaining its general shape, was gruesomely disfigured; a Weezing’s face, a Wigglytuff’s ear, and an Arcanine’s eye, along with other body parts too damaged to identify, protruded from his skin in tortured, hideous combination.

Giovanni tried to scream, but no sound came out. He fumbled with his Poké Ball, and tossed it onto the floor haphazardly, a novice trainer once again. Rhydon emerged, but even he was not free of the trash’s scarring. His skin had a reddish tint, and his spikes were misaligned with the ridge of his back… Giovanni could not order an attack, but he did not need to; Rhydon was as incapable of movement as Giovanni himself. Across the arena, the opposing trainer no longer bore any resemblance to a black-haired human being; he was already consumed, a pile of trash in a hominid shape. Only the cap remained, pulled low over where the trainer’s eyes had used to be. Giovanni could just make out the black, embroidered capital letters printed on the front. “Future Pokémon Master”, the cap read.

The boy’s lips could not move, but the trash’s attack came anyways. It let out a hideous scream, torn from the larynxes of nearly every Pokémon in Kanto, savagely twisted and ground together to form a single, unending screech. As the monster grew still larger, its cacophony grew louder, and Giovanni’s consciousness was fading fast. The walls of his gym turned to sludge, and Giovanni felt his body beginning to crumble around him. Rhydon was melting beside him, and the trainer and his Pokémon slowly merged into a single puddle of liquid death. The trash filling his vision at last invaded Giovanni’s final thoughts as he saw the world disintegrate, and the abomination consumed all.

Minecraft corruption images

Not 'pasta, but sometimes you gotta draw from real life.

Or a broken graphics engine.

Think there's also a video somewhere.

- Owner

Blood Whistle (Super Mario Bros. 3)

Blood Whistle (Super Mario Bros. 3)
===================================

Foreword
--------

This is the recorded blog of a college student who was playing a modified version of Super Mario Brothers 3 on his computer. Shortly after submitting the last entry, he committed suicide in his dorm room. Warning: the following can be considered NSFW.

June 5th, 2012
--------------

A friend of mine recently sent me what he claims to be a scary Super Mario Brothers 3 hack that he wanted me to try out (because he didn’t have the courage.) I started this blog to record my progress through the game. He got this from a site that’s no longer active, and I’ve seen some pretty scary occurrences with emulator games before. Just look at BEN. All of that aside, however, there was something definitely off about this ROM. Its title was SMB3:BW. Anyhow, I won’t play any today as I’m quite busy with college work and such, but I will definitely start tomorrow.

June 6th, 2012
--------------

I played some of the game today. Obviously my friend was misinformed, as I have played all the way through 1-3 and have found nothing irregular. All of the sprites, levels, and sounds didn’t have a fluke to their name. Wait… A secret! That must be how you have to unlock it! I swear you guys, I’ll find the warp whistle tomorrow and see what creepy secrets this game has to hide. Look for tomorrow’s post, it won’t disappoint. Maybe this will explain what the BW in the title stands for…

June 7th, 2012
--------------

I wish I hadn’t unlocked that secret. This game will be the bane of my existence. I’ll try as best as I can to explain what happened and what will certainly entail. I don’t know if any of you will believe me, but this sick mockery of one of my childhood favorites must be exploited and never be seen by the eyes of any other breathing man on god’s green earth. And Todd (what I’ll call my friend for the sake of privacy and possibly security), DO NOT send that link to anyone else. You’ll see why below.

I entered the castle stage. Knowing its only secret was the warp whistle, I disposed of a dry bones before donning a raccoon tail. With a running start I was flying above the stage until I hit the secret area. My whole life before I hit up on my arrow keypad was completely different. I was happy. I was normal. I could wake up in the morning recognizing my own reflection, being absolute about my safety. Now it’s lies. All lies. I know that as of what happened today, my life will become an infernal hell in which every day will be a futile struggle to retain my own sanity. After finishing this wretched collage of electronic dejection, I will embrace death like a long lost lover with open arms. Now to get on with what had come to pass.

The blocks that lined the wall were a gloomy albeit polished obsidian black. Mario’s skin now had a grayish tint to it, but that wasn’t what was wrong with that picture. The music was a sped up version of the normal “bonus room” theme. Toad’s skull was cracked open and profusely bleeding, spilling blood onto the floor and making the room slippery like an ice stage. His mouth was also agape and spewing blood onto the floor. The blood had an eerie, reflective quality that SHOULD have been graphically impossible for an 8-bit game like Mario 3. I walked up to him to see what it is that he might say. What he had to offer is this:

Blood Whistle.

HEAR ITS CRY.

I then ran towards the chest to see its contents. The chest was drenched in reflective, realistic blood of the same type emanated by the orifices and exposed cranium of the poor little mushroom-headed fellow. Pressing onward, I ran through it to discover its dark secret. Its twisted surprise. I wasn’t prepared for the following events.

A blood-soaked warp whistle ominously rose from what I now believe to be the deepest crevice of hell. It blipped twice as the normal whistle would. That, my fellow reader, was the only normality of what I have played today. It played a deep tune that I can’t get out of my head as I write this. The whistle descended, violently striking Mario in the chest. He unleashed a bloodcurdling scream as it went into his back and out of his chest. This cry wasn’t 8-bit at all. It wasn’t even cartoon-esque. It was the sound of unfiltered anguish, of utter agony. His expression reflected the same. To end my experience on this perverse version of something I once loved, Mario was transported to the warp zone of the Blood Whistle.

I call it this because it had only the cookie-cutter outline of the quaint island. The water consisted solely of the same blood aforementioned in my encounter with the whistle. Corpses of Koopas and other enemies of Mario were scattered afloat near the shores. White menacing eyes glared at me between the waves, surfacing just to cast their evil glance at Mario (or me, I can’t be sure at this point). All of the worlds were indicated by their respective numbers, and all of the dots were crimson. At that point I noticed yet another abnormality, this time concerning the dot for world eight. Beside it were two 8-bit patches of fire that twisted and contorted in place. Without me pressing any buttons, the whistle stabbed Mario in the ribs. This cued him to move to the world two dot. Refusing to pay any further attention to the horrors that surely await in the distorted desert, I saved the game and quit. I have played more than enough of my fill for today.

I guess that I figured out the acronym from the ROM title meant Blood Whistle the hard way. Despite the horrors that plague this abomination, I will continue to subject myself to this suffering for the sake of all of you. Well, also for mine. It’ll help me keep track of the days, and maybe this desperate attempt to cling to my stable frame of mind won’t prove to be in total vain.

There are five thousand people that have followed this blog in the two days that it’s been up. After this pointedly interesting post, I’m hoping to have some more. For those of you following my posts, read tomorrow’s and share with your friends. I need you to expose the stark luridness of this shell of something I once knew and loved.

June 8th, 2012
--------------

Well, I did it. I managed to clench the fickle fibers of my perception of reality long enough to play through world two. I have come to the conclusion that whoever made this is completely and utterly deranged. There’s been a rusted gear or a broken spring in the mechanics of their sadistic mind. Their only purpose in creating this mod was to mentally and psychologically flagellate the naïve soul poor enough to take the bait of its mysterious origin. Well, I’m certainly naïve enough to fall into that category. I digress, to the experience.

I find myself asking how I could have missed major things like this yesterday when I saved the game in this world. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Blood of the same texture from before was just as splattered across the desert sands as sand itself was. Solitary eyes watched me from the pyramids. Pentagrams and other satanic symbols were also infrequent in the environment. Could this hack be the work of the Illuminati? OK, enough pondering. I need to finish this grim tale. Skeletons of Koopas littered the bleak landscape. There was a distinct disturbance with Mario’s appearance, though. He looked starved and parched, as one would typically look after a few days in the desert. Mario then moved into the 2-1 block without my command and the music began to play shortly after.

This was a reversed version of the overworld theme. Whispers and other paranormal phenomena could be heard playing in harmony with the music, saying cryptic things. After about a minute I began to record the sound. I’ll upload it as soon as possible, but I know I definitely can’t do it today. One of the most distinct things I kept hearing was “let the whistle guide you” and “the instrument of blood plays the sweetest tune”. This creeped me out needless to say, but this of all things wouldn’t prevent me from playing out the remainder of this game.

The stage itself was VERY scary. The sky was grayish-blue accompanied by an almost white sun. The colors weren’t bright or cheery in the slightest. The pyramid blocks were faded and cracked, and the wooden blocks were obviously rotting. Mario’s sprite was visibly starving and pleading for thirst. The fire creatures fixedly stared at me like a shark stares at a school of fish, seeming to know who their next meal was. The neutral expressions of the Koopas had changed into ones of converged disgust and loath. I had obtained the raccoon by now, so I ran along the pipe-looking platform and took off.

I flew for a little while, which was nice. Mario’s face changed as well, being the normal happy smile you usually see throughout the entire game. I relished in the few moments of happiness I sought from this game. These moments were mercilessly ended within the course of a few seconds. The sky flashed a gloomy black before the Blood Whistle came and impaled the poor plumber yet again. Mario fell, his corpulent figure going limp until he hit the ground with a thump that I swore I could feel.

He was miraculously alive, his body twitching in a feeble attempt to rise. A fire creature jumped on Mario, who was now pinned to the ground and screaming in pain. His scream was bitterly realistic. It reeked of such ineffable pain it hurts me now to describe the sheer degree of torture this character was put through. There he was. Burning and seething in pain and there I sat, completely powerless. Forced to watch what I thought was the end of his trials on world two. I was so wrong.

The level select came into view. Whistle through back, Mario was transported to one of the Pyramid levels. When the level started, the background was an egregious smoke-filled black. Bursts of lightning filled the sky with illumination. Winged demons in flight were visible upon these strikes. Also in the skies glowed stagnantly lit pentagrams and 666. Mario was being carried by two of Bowser’s sons up one of the game’s pyramid structures. However, this particular structure was vastly different than the regular ones.

The bricks were cracked and faded with age. The edges were jagged with dried blood caked each block. Nothing but a heavy drum beat and the sounds of thunder played in the background. The thunder didn’t play in unison with lightning as happens in most games. There was an eerily realistic pause between the flare of the lightning and the boom of the thunder. As the top of the structure was reached, I saw the worst thing yet.

Bowser towered above everyone else, intimidating and terrible. Below stood four of his sons, two of which had carried Mario: Morton, Iggy, Ray, and Von Koopa. Above the entire scene were the words Blood Whistle in bright red neon letters. Bowser’s face had to have been ten times more evil then I had ever seen it. His green shell was cracked, and his white spines had been dipped in blood. Blood was fresh on his teeth also as his serpentine tongue licked them, making clear his intentions on what to do with Mario after he had disposed of him. It was then I came to a dooming realization.

Mario can’t die. The game won’t let him. However many things are thrown at him, in however many ways he is brutally maimed, mortality will not escape him. For a time, that is. He will continue to be sustained by whatever dark force or sick mind that drives the rest of these occurrences to passing until the game’s eventual end, in which he will ruefully and painfully perish. Now that that has been said, to continue today’s experience.

Suddenly, Von Koopa produced a dagger. It gleamed with uncanny realism in the light of the Blood Whistle sign that loomed above. After a brief pause, he began to slice Mario’s chest open. Mario again brayed that fearful cry, a cry that implied he would die only to endure torture of ten times the magnitude. Tears streamed down his faced as Von removed his heart, still pumping. He handed it to Bowser, who ate it with a crunching chomp.

His sons laughed as he did this, blood flowing from Mario’s exposed abdomen. With a bark from their twisted father, the sons shamelessly began to regurgitate and tear apart what was open. As they were doing this, Mario slowly turned his head towards me and uttered a single question through tears and blood: /"w-w-why?"/

I myself asked the very same question. Why would they treat him as an animal- if not less- for their amusement? Why would someone initiate the genesis of such a horrid contraption? A contraption in which life and death have no meaning and are manipulates, a contraption in which concepts such as morals, remorse and mercy are completely foreign? It makes me shudder to think that there is someone sick enough out there to put a character through this kind of unbearable hell just to sit back and laugh. It makes me absolutely sick to my core.

Oh, that reminds me of another thing. You’re probably wondering as to why I complacently talk about Mario as if he’s a human being. A human who suffers pain, sorrow, depression, starvation, and thirst like the rest of us. A human who is also capable of feeling happiness, remorse, goodwill and love like anyone else. It’s because I am thoroughly convinced that he is. Please, don’t stop following this blog because you think I’m insane. That will come later.

I believe without a shadow of a doubt that inside this game is a character with a complex range of emotions, someone who feels like you and me. But it’s just a game right? It’s just a contrived mixture of code and data put together to present words and images, correct? Wrong. I know with everything inside of me that Mario has to be alive. I have seen him truly happy and truly sad, and at one point I may even see him truly angry. He feels like any other living, breathing human being.

I don’t know how. I don’t know why. I don’t know how something so human could rise from something so truly inhuman. A character with a soul seemed completely impossible to me before I played this hack. I now have a goal with this game: to keep this poor creature safe. I suppose I now know the real truth. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Same place, same time.

June 9th, 2012
--------------

It’s me again. I had a horrible range of nightmares last night that are a direct result of playing this game. Some really weird stuff also went down. Before I get into today’s gameplay, I’ll have to go through them with you guys so I’ll have an interactive record of my dreaming habits related to this game. I myself am having a hard time as to how they were so close to home, and what they mean for my seemingly inevitable downfall.

Before I tell this, I have to let you in on a piece of relevant information. In the 4th grade, I used to play the recorder. Every kid had to learn some musical skill, and I liked wind instruments because of their method of play, appearance, and sound. Such is the irony of the instrument that has caused me all of this grief. In my dream I was playing the instrument in a dark room.

I was my 4th grade self, just coolly playing Mary Had a Little Lamb. Out of nowhere, I began to cough. I had choked on some blood that had materialized within and around my recorder. It covered it, and soon filled it. Blood began to pour in great quantity out of all of the recorder’s holes. It soon began to float in mid-air and hover. A few seconds passed, and then it struck me in the chest. It had impaled me, going directly through my heart and every other vital artery one could think of.

I woke up, the sheets plastered to my bare chest with sweat. I was completely fine. Not a scratch on me. As I sat there in bed, afraid of how I’m sure the game did this – or maybe it was just me losing my sanity – I began to hear noise coming from my laptop. It was closed, but a faint muffled humming sound was clearly audible. I warily approached my computer, the machine almost looking alive. I then opened it up.

It was a picture of a SMB3 Raccoon Mario sprite on a black backdrop. He was chained up by his legs and feet, and the chains reached outside of the screen. The Blood Whistle sat as the centerpiece of it all through Mario’s chest.

The tune of the Blood Whistle played over and over, a loop that only exacerbated the sound within the walls of my psyche. I tried exiting out of whatever this program might have been but the window wouldn’t close. I eventually had to take out my laptop battery, which didn’t sit too well with my OS. Luckily, I didn’t lose any files. Now for the gameplay.

I was on a weak imitation of the world 3 level map. The water was none other than blood. Ravenous fish jumped out of the water, looks of primal hunger on their faces. There was something off about Mario’s map representation that I noticed right away. Along with his Raccoon tail, the blood whistle was now a permanent fixture through his body. His skin had dulled a little from its prior shade of gray, now more outwardly noticeable. His mustache now had dots of red clung to it as well. Without my or Mario’s control, needless to say, I was moved to the first underwater stage.

A cherry red tint absorbed the entire screen. This was to be expected, as the water looked blood-ridden from the outside as well. I swam down the left side of the level to get a fire mushroom. As soon as Mario got it and his outfit changed, he got an evil simper on his face.

He looked at me and said/“Revenge, yes?”/ I confirmed his suspicions and then we set off for the danger that lurked near. The fish cast malevolent gazes at Mario as he swam by, incinerating them. His normal, happy smile returned. So did mine. The annihilation of the carnivorous critters didn’t last long before both Mario and I faced a hellish dilemma.

There was a large fish with rows of razor-sharp teeth. Below him were two power up blocks, one black-looking and one purple-looking. I assumed that these were supposed to mean red and blue. Obviously there was no progress from this point without finding out what these blocks had in store. Mario’s expression changed back into its gaunt appearance that he has had for the majority of the game. Knowing I had no other choice, I dauntingly hit the block that was black in appearance on the left.

The fish swam around from its position in top of us and began to tear off Mario’s limbs. By this time a group of fish had congregated around the entire scene. Their laughs were deep and short, registering as barks for the 8-bit sound processor. Mario’s unable body wobbled as he bled out, spewing black across the red. When he finally died, the big fish began to laugh. After a couple of seconds Mario’s limbs re-grew. With the blue block remaining, I hit it to get this all over with.

Bubbles stopped coming from Mario’s mouth. He cried out for help but that only made the problem worse. He sucked in tons of water, his hands around his neck. His face began to grow from gray to blue in a matter of moments. He kicked and fought, but he only wore himself down. Getting angry, he began to incinerate random fish that had gathered in the crowd. The fish began to laugh louder. For every fish he killed, two more appeared in its place. After a while he just gave up. I watched as Mario uttered his last gurgle on world 3, the Blood Whistle stabbing and taking him away. I saved and quit with haste. See you all tomorrow.

June 10th, 2012
---------------

Campus police gave me a visit today. Apparently one of you had reported my comments related to suicide and claimed I was insane. As a result, I have eliminated all personal information from this blog. I located the person who reported me and banned him. I also have an IP tracker, so don’t any of you try that. Speaking of followers, fifty thousand? I had never expected this page to accumulate this many active viewers. Wherever this popularity – or notoriety – came from, I am grateful. Now for today’s gameplay. After today, I’ll be lucky to finish the game.

Princess Toadstool’s letter appeared after the previous screen from world 3 faded out. She was squirming and shifting around. Bowser’s hand covered her mouth and nose, but it was easy to see the fear in her eyes. They darted left and right in stark, true fear. Bowser continued to have that sadistic smile on his face as he struggled with her. After about a minute and a half, Peach began to change.

Her eyes grew an ominous read as she pushed Bowser’s arm away with inhuman strength. She cackled like a loon, blue veins bulging so noticeably that they were clearly visible through her white satin gloves. Bowser than began to cower in timidity. The text on the letter said only this:

BLOOD WHISTLE

HEAR ITS CRY

~PEACH

The letter scene was abruptly cut off and the world 4 level select map was brought into view. Goombas and Koopas of all sizes appeared, furious and hungry as ever. This addition made sense. This was the giant/tiny world, the shown enemies would be dimensioned as such. The normally green grass was withered and dead. The small patches of water were blood. Mario still was in the fireball fatigues that he donned in world 3. When compared the other worlds, the map view for this one was vastly less disturbing. I would go as far to call this tolerable. Mario moved towards 4-1, into whatever nightmarish scenario this stage had to offer.

The stage had the usual kinks of any level in this game. The sky was black, which made the white clouds vibrantly contrast. A reversed version of the ground level once again played. The wood – as it had been before – was decaying and wasting away beneath Mario’s feet. The pipes were faded and cracked in various places. All of the enemies still possessed the same carnivorous looks of their inter-game counterparts. There was, oddly enough, a startling abundance of them. Koopas and Goombas danced around in a ritualistic manner. Mario was visibly petrified as he tried to avoid them, my arrow keys keeping them inches away from his life. Amidst the all of the din, there hovered a solitary power up block.

It was regular in appearance. Nothing was outwardly off about this, which greatly surprised me. Not knowing what horrid item it contained, I bumped it in blind vain. That maybe it could help me. You can most likely infer from the intonation I made in the preceding paragraph that I was completely mistaken. What appeared next is what I dreaded. That damn whistle. It was sitting there, blood washing over it as it rose from the yellow square. It sat there almost beckoning my name. With the imposing enemies, I knew I had no other choice. I took the weapon from its place. Fruitlessly hoping for the best, readily expecting the worst.

The on-screen foes ceased all activity. Their faces returned to a neutral, bank state. Five minutes they stood in place like this not moving a muscle. I jumped around and tried to kill them, but to no avail. It’s almost as if they were frozen within the confines of time itself. As if for specifically them, all interstellar and physical continuity came to a careening halt. Then they began to move. After the first couple had did it, I realized What truly was going on. This was a mass suicide. Most of them just jumped in the nearest hole, but others performed incredible feats of acrobatics and medical possibility.

One Koopa was bashing his head in on a pipe. Another Goomba jumped six or seven times his own height, turned around in the air, and sent blood flying everywhere with a great splat. Soon all of the enemies were dead. Their remains were spontaneously upchucked from the trench below. A grisly mixture of guts and gore littered the entire remainder of the level. Mario shuffled through the remains, horrified with tears streaming on his face throughout. Random deep, bassy tones played with nothing else to accompany.

Realistic squishy sounds were emitted every time Mario took a step in the scattered carnage. He continued to cry for the duration of the level. The whistle faded into view and followed Mario a few inches above his head, like a pestilential virus. After he cleared it, of course, the whistle went straight through his chest as Mario was headed to world 5. The game has a habit of putting me where it needs me to be, so I closed the window without saving.

Witnessing all of that death really racked my nerves. Sure it might be a game, but with the things this game has had to present to me I’m starting to lose my perception of reality. I’m starting to wonder to myself what is real and what is inside the computer. These two things are quickly fusing into one. The lines… they’re blurring. Pretty soon the days will start fading together, and by then I’ll have lost all sense of reality. I hope to see you all tomorrow. I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this game. No, it’s not a game. I couldn’t tell you what this is.

June 11th, 2012
---------------

Today being D-Day fits, because I’m fighting one hell of a war against this game (and a losing one at that). At least there are no more mishaps with you all so far, which puts me at rest. As of today’s gameplay, I fear for my own life. I feel as if something is coming after me. Lurking, seeking me out as to make immediate my demise. Never before has anything like this ever happened. Never before has anything electronic made me truly afraid, truly scared. I most likely will get no sleep tonight. Nothing in particular occurred, it’s just… you’ll find out below.

I was in the middle of the cloud portion of world 5. The sky theme played, except it was drastically slow and demonic whispers were clearly audible. The whispers were almost the same as the ones I heard back in world 2. Mario was outfitted with the Tanooki suit, which naturally suited the environment. There was nothing there except two things: A red dot, and a card game.

The card game icon looked similar enough to its regular game clone, except the spades rolled across a red background instead of a blue one. Now, for whatever reason, I was allowed to choose which path to take. I chose to do the card game, hoping it would serve as some sort of reprieve from all the madness. That was not the right choice.

Toad didn’t explain the rules of the game like normal. Instead, I was plunged into the rolling slots. Beside the slots was a risky scenario. Toad was on a guillotine. He looked at the camera with timid, teary eyes. He also was vigorously shaking his head. He shook his hands in a futile effort to free himself from this appalling apparatus, but nothing came of it. The entire picture engulfed me so much I didn’t even notice the slots. I cautiously pressed them, trying as best I could to line them up given the stress of the situation. I failed, and had to pay the personal price.

The blade fell with breathtaking speed. Toad was beheaded right then and there. His head did a couple of spins in the air before landing in a conveniently placed nearby basket. The initial spins flayed blood across the white room. Blood filled the basket and filled it up, toad’s body spraying blood from the stump where his head used to be. Out of nowhere, the Blood Whistle came down and struck his torso. The scene faded out and back to the map. I was moved to the only remaining destination in world 5.

Silent lightning streaked across the licorice black sky. Gray clouds and Mario were the only other consistently visible things. As far as everything goes, silhouettes of winged demons flew and danced in the background. I tried turning into the stone structure the Tanooki suit is so famous for, but it failed. No music at played. None at all. The demons would be heard whispering in what sounded like a variety of languages.

Spanish, German, and Latin were the most prevalent ones. A primal fear of the unknown gripped me as I blindly navigated the level. Judging by the look on Mario’s face, it plagued him also. This stemmed from childhood, which made it all the worse. I not only felt like Mario was in danger, I felt like my livelihood and well-being were in danger. At that moment, one of the demons swooped down.

I would say the most accurate way to describe this creature would be a miniature Cthulu. Its claws plucked out Mario’s eyes, making them profusely bleed. He unleashed an ephemeral, yet bone-chilling cry. After the searing pain relented Mario trudged on. His face was now void of any and all expression. It was because he knew as well as I did that he would be torn apart. Brutally and slowly, but it would happen. After a few more seconds, the second demon came.

It was identical in appearance to the first. It swooped down with grim, black bat wings and did its portion of damage. After it was said and done, the thing had torn Mario’s arms off. Mario stopped dead in his tracks. He sobbed loudly, knowing the worst was yet to come. I felt so sorry for him that the words escaped me. He continued with a morose look. His normal walk slowed to a shuffle. Not a few seconds after that, the final solitary specter came down. He did his work with one big slash. Mario was now without his legs, and his lump of a body sat there. He sadly wept in utter despair. He knew the end was near. He tuned to me and choked out this: “I’m sorry you had to witness this...everything...”

Those were his last spoken words on world 5 before a gaggle of hell’s minions descended and tore apart what remained of him. His entrails were liberally exposed as they regurgitated in their cruel feast. When the dust cleared, a mere shell of him remained. All you could see of his open stomach were his open spine and back muscles. As I had predicted, the Blood Whistle came to transport him into whatever hellish situation it contemplated would be worse than the last. Consider it sheer luck if I make another post tomorrow. If I do, it may be my last.

June 12th, 2012
---------------

I’m starting not to care anymore. I am in the throes of such a severe depression it’s all starting to fade away. Everything. School, friends, family. It’s safe to say this game is single-handedly ruining my life. Such sadness has never become me ever before in my life. My grandfather died when I was young, but that didn’t close to equate what I’m feeling now. It’s a direct result of the level that I played today, which I’ll get into right now.

World 6 appeared. Ice was everywhere. This is the one part that correlated to the unaltered version. Nothing else did. The ice was none other than frozen, realistic blood. Crystallized pieces of crimson droplets bordered the ice blocks. Blood filled in the small pockets of water that were. Of course, there was only a solitary dot on the map. Mario entered it, and I knew that whatever was to pass, it would be ten-fold of what had already happened.

Pure, sable white was the only thing that constituted of the backdrop. Blocks of blood ice served as a slippery ground. Mario slid along as I controlled him. He appeared happy. Overjoyed might be more accurate. Here he had nothing to deal with. Just him and the open space. Five minutes passed. Then ten. All the way through, Mario was happy as I let him run around and fly (he had regained the raccoon tail). It seemed like he had all the time in the world. The clocked ticked and ticked and all seemed right in the game. Making my way through the level, I found out it had no end. Time, oddly enough, would turn out to be the ultimate enemy.

At the twenty minute mark a tempest began to pick up. A flurry of snow and wind ensnared Mario, and he now began to curl his tail. His teeth chattered and his body shook. He soon had to sit down. Mario and I soon figured out how the game planned to snuff him out this time: with ice and time. He sat and tried to heat himself. This, needless to say, was a less than feeble attempt. Nothing but the creepy bass beats from world 5 played. Mario’s skin soon began to turn a light blue. Nevertheless, he still sat and brooded in the icy cold.

It was then that the utmost feeling of sadness had encapsulated me. I couldn’t fathom my sympathy. I couldn’t begin to describe how bad I felt at the fact that his death was absolutely inevitable and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Just simply watch in shock and dejected awe. Frostbite soon took his hands. Ten minutes after that, world 6 Mario was no more. Just a frozen block of a man, sitting there in the middle of an infinite winter wilderness. After the sadness came feelings of sheer loneliness.

I felt abandoned and alone. Just like Mario sitting in the middle of that ice field. I felt as if no one would save me from the torture of this game. The Blood Whistle came down and made a chunk sound as it impaled his chest, taking him to the next level of hell. I closed the emulator window like always, and ended this self-subjected torture. I WILL bring myself to play this game tomorrow, but mark my words. I’ll play the last tomorrow, and then this blog will (hopefully) live on in my memory. So my tribulation can be seen by the world. Be here. Same time, same place.

June 13th, 2012
---------------

It is ironic indeed that today is June the 13th. The unlucky number, the unlucky day. I suppose today isn’t completely horrible. Today is the last day I had to play this wretched game. This horrifyingly absurd remake of what I used to see as a wonderful game will soon be out of my life. Along with everything else. With this being the last post, I suppose I can finally be honest about my true intentions ever since I finished world 2. I’m going to take my own life.

This game has caused me sorrow on such an ineffable level that there is no other option. Life will never be the same. Mom and dad, I love you. Michael and Kelsie, you guys be good. Listen to mom and dad. They have a lot of valuable lessons to teach you. Lessons that I learned but can now never apply again. Now for what you seventy five thousand followers read this post for: the rest of the game.

Hell itself is what the game brought me to. I suppose that this was intentioned to convey world 8. No, not hell. WORSE than hell. Bodies were chained up in the background enduring a myriad of tortures. The only pain wasn’t strictly felt from injuries though.

The coughs, dying wheezes and vomiting in the background reeked of pestilence and suffering. Fires emblazoned certain people as well. The flames had an actual burning quality to them. Not like regular 8-bit fire. Flesh, eyes, and other internal organs and tissue constituted the walls and ground. If the hell I’m certainly going to exists, I think it looks something like this.

Mario stood before a possessed Princess Toadstool. Her dress was ripped in several places and splattered with blood. Her eyes gleamed red, the flames casting an evilly maniacal allure to her appearance. Bowser and his six sons were tied to wooden poles with terrified looks on their faces. Wendy, for some reason, didn’t appear anywhere in this game. In one hand, Peach brandished a sizable dagger. In the other, the Blood Whistle. She walked over to Bowser and looked him in the eyes.

Technical limitations slightly hindered the interpretation of what events passed, but it was easy enough to understand what was going on. Through his gag, Bowser pleaded with her not to harm him. She brought the knife close to him and he froze up. He was obviously paralyzed with fear. Her mouth got close to his ear and text rolled along at the bottom of the screen, conveying the text of what played out given the sound limitations. This is what enabled Mario to "speak" in the past.

/“Sh,”/ she whispered.

Bowser’s innards spilled onto the floor in a great heap. He let out a monstrous 8-bit roar of pain as this happened. Peach laughed, her red eyes reflecting whatever evil had possessed her. The princess proceeded to eviscerate all six of his other sons. Mario did nothing but look on in horror as his mortal enemies were torn apart by a woman he had once loved very much.

His face soon contorted into one of loathing. He had come all this way to find out the very girl he wished to save had been taken over by an extra-terrestrial evil. An evil that would not only haunt Mario, but me as well. The sort of evil that doesn’t go away when you turn off the game. The kind of dark force that follows you to your bedchambers and steals your soul. Princess Toadstool paused for a couple of seconds, then came at Mario with the knife.

/“Hey there Mario,”/ she said as she toyed with the knife.//

/“They got a little/ sharp /with me so I pushed them over the EDGE! Hehehe…”/

I tried to move Mario but nothing happened. He stood there, afraid of what she would do. She brutally slashed open his arms, legs and abdomen. Shortly thereafter, the princess produced some salt from her billowing dress and sprinkled it all over him. He screamed again, unmoving.

"'/The Princess Peach you used to know is long gone. The power of the Blood Whistle consumed that girl and made way for me. And speaking of which,/ ” she continued as she produced the Blood Whistle, “/Here it is. Hear its cry.”/

With a mocking kiss on the cheek, she began to play Mario the perverse song of the Blood Whistle. Its notes rotted away the last reserve of good in me. He was heaved by an invisible force into the flames.

He cried out as they consumed him. Peach chucked the whistle, making it strike him directly in the heart. He continued to wallow in utter anguish as she walked away. As she laughed, He looked into my eyes and bore me this parting message via the text at the bottom of the screen:

/“Do not let your life be as painful as mine was. I do not hold reservations against you, as you tried your best to keep me alive. I commend you for that. Good bye, Bradley, and good luck." /The tune of the blood whistle continued to play as the screen panned out of Mario’s hell.

How he knew my name is Bradley continues to befuddle me. How he could have such depth, such personality. I don’t know whether this is a result of the game being as haunted as it truly is, or the fact that someone’s could have been captured inside of this rom. Whatever the reason of this, of everything that has come to pass with this abomination, I am glad I’m finally done. I have made all of my goodbyes at the beginning of this post. I hope one of you takes the time to save this blog. Or at the very least, to show the world the true hell I have put myself through. I sure hope that the demented creator of this game isn’t festering in the same hell I’m headed for. Goodbye, everyone.

Aftermath
---------

This blog was the last recorded statement of Bradley before his death.

His roommate discovered him four hours after he made the last post. Bradley committed suicide using a recorder that he plunged through his trachea.

__________
-Dubiousdugong

Mr. Mix

Does anyone remember an old PC game from the early 1990s called "Mr. Mix''? It's mainly a typing game, similar to Mario Teaches Typing, where you have to type words into a box to make a chef (the titular Mr. Mix) put ingredients into a bowl.

Unlike most typing games, however, this game is notorious for having an insane difficulty curve. The game has a "Words per Minute" requirement for each level, being as low as 10 on level one and as high as 85 on the third. By level five, the requirement reaches over 500, effectively making it impossible to proceed any further.

One of the main things that people noticed about this game immediately was the background music. The music on the first level was an unsettling pattern of growls that got progressively louder as the level went on, often causing damage to early computer speakers that were not designed to handle extremely high volumes of sound.

The second level had no music at all and the third had what sounded like an extremely low-quality recording of a hair dryer playing in the background. The remaining two levels had an extremely loud high-pitched ringing throughout the level that caused severe ear drum damage to those who managed to get that far.

Another rather disturbing aspect of the game was the design of Mr. Mix himself. He was a large, round-faced, overweight man with large beady eyes and red spots on his cheeks.

Most children who played the game reported having vivid nightmares of Mr. Mix speaking to them in a quiet, raspy voice and threatening them to keep quiet about something. However, none of them could remember exactly what that was.

One psychologist who saw many of these children reported being disturbed by the sheer amount of terror on the faces of the children as they recounted the details of the nightmare.

Many of the children broke down into tears in the process, begging for their parents to "save" them. However, no direct relationship to the game itself could be determined by these few cases, as not all children suffered the same adverse effects.

For obvious reasons, this game did not sell very well. It remained in relative obscurity until a few years ago, when PC hackers got hold of a ROM of the game and started digging through it.

Using memory hacking software, they managed to crack the game's code and bypass the impossible fifth level. What they found, however, was extremely disturbing and caused many of them to quit the expedition altogether.

According to the reports these hackers left behind, the game behaves very strangely if the fifth level is bypassed. The game crashes violently and closes, writing a bunch of files to the user's System32 directory to the point that the RAM was almost completely filled.

These files are reportedly pictures of people with horribly deformed faces, appearing to scream in pain and agony with their eyes appearing to be bleeding from their tear ducts and their outer layer of skin torn clean off in multiple places.

If the user attempts to delete these files, the computer will violently crash and blue screen, causing permanent irreparable damage to the user's hard drive.

The hackers found that this was caused by a lone byte in the game's ROM that triggered when the fifth level was completed. After removing this byte, they were able to proceed to the sixth and final level.

Unfortunately, all of the original hackers declined to discuss what they saw in the final level. All of them became extremely paranoid and reclusive, refusing to talk about anything related to the game and showing astonishingly extreme symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder.

Most of them ceased to be able to form coherent sentences within a week and, within a month, all of them went missing. All remaining copies of the game were destroyed.

To this day, no one knows what was in that game that caused them so much psychological damage. Maybe it's better that way.

Two years after this incident, a man was arrested after trying to kidnap an eight-year old girl from a grocery store. Through DNA and fingerprint analysis, the man was identified as one of the original hackers who viewed the final level of the game.

He was wearing a white chef's hat and had a look of unspeakable malice and insanity on his face. When interrogated, the man would only say one thing.

"I'm Mr. Mix. Shhh."

Airlock

AIRLOCK
(~early 2011)
=======

When the game starts, you're alone in a bunker. You'd cross off another day on the calendar and start to check your gear. You prepare to leave for the nearest town; you strap on your gas mask and pull up your hood. The green light on your oxygen gauge tells you that you'll be able to survive in the airless environment outside. The world was brought to a complete standstill when the air started dissipating.

Most didn't know what was happening before it was too late. It wasn't how humanity had figured it would end. All in all, it was a very silent, quick affair without the big explosions or the screaming masses fleeing. In fact, no one could have imagined a quieter apocalypse. People simply fell where they stood or sat at the time. There wasn't time to evacuate, and where would have people gone anyway? Those who survived were the people who had planned ahead, who had planned for the impossible. Their reward was solitude on a lifeless, airless planet. But at least there's plenty of time to think and reflect.

The end happened so quickly that the destruction was limited. You  have entire cities open to exploration and treasure hunting. Only...you have to watch your air gauge. The air gauge itself is on your suit/clothes and not on your UI, so you have to look down to see it. If you forget it, you might end up fucked unless you can somehow find air.

You move around empty schoolyard, apartment buildings, and skyscrapers. The lack of air preserved the billions of bodies worldwide relatively longer than they otherwise would have been, and now the empty planet is a mausoleum of dried up human husks littering streets and buildings.

You'd have to scavenge for stuff to improve your gear so you could stay out longer. Through exploring, you might find other safe bunkers and you'll be able to move more freely. Then there'd be enemies. What would they be? Something that doesn't require air, which could stalk you and make you feel watched. A less open threat that might attack when you least suspect it. And would there be others?

Maybe you'd have to find them first. Would you even go armed? No air would mean no sound, so all you'd have was the clicking of the gas mask and maybe whatever contemporary band you managed to put on that banged up, scavenged iPod you managed to find in the pocket of a body near the airport terminal. You'd have to consider getting fuel for the generator in your safehouse, as well.

Your only contact with other people would be someone who you talk to frequently over what's left of the internet or some old radio-type thing. You've known them for years, but have never met them in person. They're your only company in an otherwise dead world, and they're holed up somewhere else, exactly like you.

One day, they stop signing in/going on the air and you decide to find out what happened to them. You only have a faint idea where their bunker is and you know you wouldn't have enough air to get there in one stretch. That's where the game really begins. Do you make an effort to find them or what happened to them, or do you go on with your life, salvaging, exploring, and listening to your own breathing as you make your way through the still graveyard of humanity?

Pokemon Death Snap

POKEMON DEATH SNAP
===================

Ahh, the 90s. Life was so simple back then, for my generation. There was the Game Boy, the Nintendo 64, Animaniacs, Freakazoid....these things were all the highlights of my day, especially if I was doing them with a friend. I wasn't really into computers at the time; my family had dial-up and a shitty Windows 95, which made everything so frustrating. No, my farthest exploits into the digital world involved me and my Nintendo 64. Super Smash Bros., Super Mario 64, Starfox 64, Mario Kart 64, and Pokemon Snap were my favorites.

After I had thoroughly rooted out every secret in these games, the only one that kept my attention was Pokemon Snap. I constantly went through every level trying to get the best possible shot of all the Pokemon featured in that game. What intrigued me was the realism in that game. In all other Pokemon games, everything was synthetic. You couldn't walk amongst the Pokemon and see how they interacted; you could only have them in a ball or following you around. One could argue that Hey You, Pikachu! was more interactive, but in the whole, only certain words are recognized and the scripted non-realistic events gave that game a disgustingly synthetic feel. The first-person 3D view of Pokemon present in Pokemon Sap gave everyone who grew up in the 90s something they could only dream of: a chance to live in a realistic Pokemon world.

So, eventually, we moved to a new house and got a PS2, DSL, and a computer that could run Half-Life, and I moved on the bigger and better things, but would often look back fondly at the simplicity of my childhood. My N64 and all the games were put in a forgotten corner of the basement. This brings my story to more recent events. About a week ago, I was at my friend's house. He is one of those people who are well-equipped and has many things: Wi-Fi, several computers, iPods, a Mac, a drum set, a piano, a Widescreen HDTV, surround-sound, guitars, a PS3, and whatnot. He was one of the people I liked to whoop in Super Smash Bros. back in the day. Anyway, we were hanging out and he had something he wanted to show me. He powered up his Wii and one of the channels was Pokemon Snap, which he proceeded to load. He had recently downloaded it from the Virtual Console. As soon as I heard the fast theme song and camera flashes, I was overcome with an intense wave of nostalgia - something I rarely feel these days - and really wanted to play that game. My friend loaded it up and selected continue.

For everyone unfamiliar with Pokemon Snap, the premise is that Professor Oak needs someone to photograph all the Pokemon on some island with many different environments. As you get more pictures and higher scores, new tools and levels become available to you, such as the apple, which acts as bait, the pester ball, which irritates Pokemon, and the Pokeflute, which wakes sleeping Pokemon. The player controls Todd, a character from the anime, who is riding in a buggy on a set track. The buggy moves at a constant speed, and it is from this buggy that you must take pictures. There are 63 of the original 151 Pokemon in Pokemon Snap. The levels, or 'courses' as Oak calls them, range from a beach to a volcano to caves and rivers. The island is a very diverse place, but even with my extensive playing, the darkest parts had eluded me...until recently, that is.

So, Professor Oak said "welcome" in his very creeper-ish voice recording. I always found it funny how the game had about one word of pre-recorded voice per two or three sentences the text box showed. Reliving our childhoods, we took turns playing a level and seeing who could get the best score. Soon, I had to go home, but I really did not want to stop playing Pokemon Snap.

When I got home, I went down into my basement and dug out the old N64, along with a musty-smelling cardboard box full of all the old cartridges, controllers, memory cards, and rumble packs. God, I missed this system. I hooked the RF cables up to the TV in my room, popped in Pokemon Snap, and shifted the Pokeball into the on position. A little more back-story here: when I got my N64, the Hey, You Pikachu! model was massively on sale at Toys R Us, and my mom decided to get it, as it came with the game. When you turn it on with the Pokeball switch, the Pikachu's cheeks light up, also, his foot acts as the reset switch. It's pretty cool. Anyways, when I turned the console on, the screen remained static. I pulled out the cartridge and checked the chip. Sure enough, it was covered in this black gunk. I spent half an hour getting that nasty stuff off. It was at this point I first noticed something strange: after the substance was removed, the chip was red with black rectangles along the surface, which I assumed were meant to be contacts. None of my other games had this black stuff, and their chips were light brown with the gold-ish contacts.

There were other oddities with this particular cartridge. There was no Official Seal of Nintendo on the label or anywhere on the cartridge. These are on all N64 carts, and most other Nintendo products from this era. Another thing was that there was no black label on the back that usually contains the typical "DON'T PLAY YOU'LL GET SEIZURES," kind of thing. The front label was also slightly off-center. These should have been red flags, but I am a pretty lax guy that just takes things in stride so I didn't really care. At this point, I thought the game was ruined by the goo and discoloration, but  I put it back in for the hell of it. To my surprise, the Nintendo logo popped on the screen. We were back in business.

So, the load screen came up and the upbeat theme song and camera flashes were playing just as they did earlier at my friend's house. It was then I noticed several visual distortions, which I thought were due to cart damage. There were three purple vertical streaks a few inches wide that went all the way down the screen, one on each edge and one down the middle. They were darker in the middle of the streaks, but you could see past them somewhat. I didn't mind that much; it was minor inconvenience.

Next, I pressed start and to my surprise, I found that there was no continue option. I guess my saves had been deleted by battery failure. All of those hours and hours of hard work and completion were gone. Oh well, I probably would have started a new file anyway.

I started the new game and more strange things began to occur. I found myself in Oak's lab. His features were changed. His eyes were black with no pupils and he had a stern look on his face. That, coupled with the purple distortion that ran along his left half, made him very disturbing. All the text dialogue was normal, but the pre-recorded voice  bits I mentioned earlier were distorted. They came out slowly at low pitch. I was reminded of the demon voices from early shooters like Doom...but other than these things I attributed to cart damage, the game play was normal...or so I thought. All of this was starting to make me a bit uneasy, but I was a man of science. I didn't believe in ghosts or God or Hell, and prided myself in overcoming the irrational fears that many suffered from. Oh, to be young again.

I went to the first course, the beach. There were more visual distortions. All Pokemon had no pupils, just pure black eyes. Also, on the ground underneath where the Pokemon sprites were, there was a purple ring. It appeared even under the flying Pidgeys. The other distortion here was that the sky was a light green and there were no clouds or sun.

The movements of the Pokemon seemed unnatural and cold, like they were afraid of something. I played through the course, but as I took pictures, the Pokemon that were in the frame disappeared. Slightly concerned by this, I didn't take pictures of Pokemon that wouldn't count until later, such as Snorlax or Chansey. As I approached the exit gate, I turned around and saw one of the circles that indicated that a Pokemon was there following me, but there was no sprite. I snapped a picture and was taken back to the lab.

I selected all the pictures for the Pokemon Report, but, strangely, the last picture I took was not there. The rating process went as normal, but at the end, Oak said, "Nice work harvesting." There was a brief pause, and then he said, "......you let it in didn't you? Well, you know what this means....go to the tunnel."

I assumed that he was referring to the Tunnel Course, so I went to the map and it was now available. As I entered the course, I noticed that I now had all the tools: the apple, pester ball, and Pokeflute. I went through the course and found that it had the same visual distortion as the beach. At the end, I tossed an apple at the Electrode by the rocks and the path to the volcano opened up. The electrode looked like it was in extreme agony, not like the comical explosions seen before. It seemed to be begging for help.

As the traveling cutscene took place, I saw the purple ring with no sprite again. It followed me. Strangely, there was no cut back to the lab after discovering the course like it was supposed to. It just took me straight to the volcano level. A quick survey of the area showed that the visual distortions were getting worse. As I moved forward, the Ponytas and Rapidashes were running, then jumped into the lava and gave off low-pitched screams. All the Pokemon did this as I approached. I finally reached the egg, which blocked the path. You are supposed to throw an apple at it so you can proceed, but I found that my tools were gone. This was problematic, and I took this opportunity to get some dinner. I didn't pause the game because there was no need to. When I got back, I saw the purple ring again. It was in place, motionless, behind me. I also saw something else coming from the distance. It was an Electrode from the tunnel rolling down the path. This Electrode must have been the one I blew up, as it had a look of anger and revenge in its eyes. I could do nothing to get away, so I sat and watched. As soon as it hit me, it exploded, which caused my buggy to flip on its side and go top down into the lava. A travel-like cutscene played, but it was slow with distorted audio. The low-pitched screams of the flailing, burning Todd were heard.

I was back in the lab and Oak looked angry. He said, " You let it get to you, didn't you? Well, you only have yourself to blame." The screen faded to black and the course selection screen came up. Oak was standing alone, and the only option on the screen was "HELLL," which was spelled with three L's. The go back option was gone, so I had no choice but to click on it.

The camera zoomed in on the charred corpse of Todd that's bottom half was under the upside-down buggy. Everything was ultra-realistic, and this was on a pedestal of stone in an endless sea of fire and lava. All of the Pokemon I had taken pictures of and made disappear were floating in the lava, screaming in low-pitched voices. Suddenly, there was a camera flash. The screen swung to a demonic figure with a camera taking pictures of the corpse. After he had a few pictures, he curb-stomped Todd's head and took more pictures. Then, a low-pitched demonic, "Say cheeeeeese," came out of the speakers and my whole room lit up for a second. That scared the shit out of me, and when it was over the screen was dead black and the system was shut off.

I hit reset, because I knew it was just a game and it couldn't hurt me. That stuff was pretty sick, but I had seen worse on the internet. I wanted to see what happened next. As it came on the screen, the menu came up and the only option was to view the album. I hit A and immediately wished I hadn't. The album was filled with hundreds of photos, all of horrific torture and mutilation scenes. Many of these pictures involved children. These photos were not in 64-bit, but appeared to be authentic, scanned photos. At this point, I was overcome with nausea, but it got worse. The game force-scrolled to the end and zoomed to the final picture. It was the picture I had taken of the purple ring without a sprite....only now there was something above it. It was a picture of my dead body floating a foot off the ground. The sickest part was that there was a camera jammed through my head.

The screen faded to black. I was so terrified by the whole event that I broke the cartridge in two and ditched it in two different dumpsters behind restaurants on opposite ends of town. A few days later, I asked my mom if she had done something to my Pokemon Snap game. "Oh, yes..." she said. "When we moved here, I was carrying that box down to the basement and that game fell out and broke. When I went to pick it up, I found that it had fallen into a crack in the crawlspace. I couldn't find it. I'm sorry about not telling you, but I thought you had outgrown that anyway." A lock of shock must have come to my face, because my mom asked what was wrong. "Nothing," I said. "I'm fine." I decided not to tell her.

A week has passed and I am bringing my story to the internet in the hopes that it may help someone else, or at least entertain. I do apologize for the length, but I feel that the details are necessary. What scares me the most is not the photographs of the mutilation or my dead self. What scares me the most is whatever the hell is in my basement that can make a broken game into something so gruesome. Thank God I'm moving out soon.

Killswitch

KILLSWITCH
==========

In the spring of 1989, the Karvina Corporation released a curious game, whose dissemination among American students that fall was swift and furious, though its popularity was ultimately short-lived.

The game was “Killswitch.”

On the surface, it was a variant on the mystery or horror survival genre, a precursor to the Myst or Silent Hill franchises. The narrative showed the complexity for which Karvina was known, though the graphics were monochrome, vague grey and white shapes against a black background. Slow MIDI versions of Czech folk songs play throughout. Players could choose between two avatars: an invisible demon named Ghast or a visible human woman, Porto. Play as Ghast was considerably more difficult due to his total invisibility, and players were highly liable to restart the game as Porto after the first level, in which is was impossible to gauge jumps or aim. However, Ghast was clearly the more powerful character – he had fire-breath and a coal-steam attack, but as it was above the skill level of most players to keep track of where a fire-breathing, poison-dispensing invisible imp was on their screens once the fire and steam had run out, Porto became more or less the default.

Porto’s single ability was seemingly random growth – she expanded and contracted in size throughout the game. A Kansas engineering grad claimed to have figured out the pattern involved, but for reasons that will become obvious, his work was lost.

Porto awakens in the dark with wounds in her elbows, confused. Seeking a way out, she ascends through the levels of a coal mind in which it is slowly revealed she was once an employee, investigating its collapse and beset on all sides by demons similar to Ghast, as well as dead foremen, coal-golems, and demonic inspectors from the Sovatik Corporation, whose boxy bodies were clothed in red, the only color in the game. The environment, though primitive, becomes genuinely uncanny as play progresses. There are no ‘bosses’ in any real sense – Porto must simply move physically through tunnels to reach subsequent levels while her size varies wildly through inter-level spaces.

The story that emerges through Porto’s discovery of magnetic tapes files, mutilated factory workers who were once her friends, and deciphering an impressively complex code inscribed on a series of iron axes players must collect (this portion of the game was almost laughably complex, and defeated many players until “Porto 881” posted the cipher to a Columbia BBS. Attempts to contact this player have been unsuccessful, and the username is no longer in use on any known service.) is that the foremen, under pressure to increase coal production, began to falsify reports of malfunctions and worker malfeasance in order to excuse low output, which incited a Sovatik inspection. Officials were dispatched, one for each miner, and an extraordinary story of torture unfolds, with fuzzy and indistinct graphics of red-coated men standing over workers, inserting small knives into their joints whenever production slowed. (Admittedly, this is not a very subtle critique of Soviet-era industrial tactics, and as the town of Karvina itself was devastated by the departure of the coal industry, more than one thesis has interpreted Killswitch as a political screed.)

After solving the axe-code, Porto finds and assembles a tape recorder, on which a male voice tells her that the fires of the Earth had risen up in their defense and flowed into the hearts of the decrepit, pre-revolution equipment they used and wakened them to avenge the workers. It is generally assumed that the “fires of the Earth” are demons like Ghast, coal-fumes and gassy bodies inhabiting the old machines. The machines themselves are so “big” that the graphics elect to only show two or three gear-teeth or a conveyor belt rather than the entire apparatus. The machines drove the inspectors mad, and they disappeared into caverns with their knives (only to emerge to plague Porto, of course). The workers were often crushed and mangled in the onslaught of machines, which were neither graceful nor discriminating. Porto herself was knocked into a deep chasm by a grief-stricken engine, and her fluctuating size, if it is real and not imagined, is implied to be the result of poisonous fumes inhaled there.

What follows is the most cryptic and intuitive part of the game. There is no logical reason the proceed in the “correct” way, and again it was Porto 881 who came to the rescue of the fledgling Killswitch community. In the chamber behind the tape recorder is a great furnace where coal was once rendered into coke. There are no clues as to what she is intended to do in this room. Players attempted nearly everything, from immolating Porto to continuing to process coal as if the machines had never risen up. Porto 881 hit upon the solution, and posted it to the Columbia boards. If Porto ingests the raw coke, she will find her body under control, and can go on to fight her way out of the final levels of the mine, which are impassable in her giant state as she clutches onto the tape containing this extraordinary story. However, as she crawls through the final tunnel to emerge aboveground, the screen goes suddenly white.

Killswitch, by design, deletes itself upon player completion of the game. It is not recoverable by any means, as all trace of it is removed from the user’s computer. The game cannot be copied. For all intents and purposes, it exists only for those playing it, and then ceases to be entirely. One cannot replay it, unlocking further secrets or narrative pathways, one cannot allow another to play it, and, perhaps most importantly, it is impossible to experience the game all the way to the end as both Porto and Ghast.

Predictably, player outcry was enormous. Several routes to solve the problem were pursued, with no real efficacy. The first and most common was to simply buy more copies of the game, but Karvina Corp. released only 5,000 copies and refused to press further editions. The following is an excerpt from their May 1990 press release:

“Killswitch was designed to be a unique playing experience: like reality, it is unrepeatable, irretrievable, and illogical. One might even say ineffable. Death is final; death is complete. The fates of Porto and her beloved Ghast are as unknowable as our own. It is the desire of the Karvina Corporation that this be so, and we as our customers to respect that desire. Rest assured, Karvina will continue to provide the highest quality of games to the West, and that Killswitch is merely one among our many wonders.”

This did not have the intended effect. The word “beloved” piqued the interest of committed, even obsessed, players, as Ghast is not present in any portion of Porto’s narrative. A rush to find the remaining copies of the game ensued, with the intent of playing as Ghast and discovering the meaning of Karvina’s cryptic word. The most popular theory was that Ghast would at some point become the fumes inhaled by Porto, changing her size and beginning her adventure. Some though this was wishful thinking, but if only Ghast’s early levels were passable one would somehow be able to play as both simultaneously. However, by this time no further copies appeared to be available in retail outlets. Players who had not yet completed the game attempted Ghast’s levels frequently, but the difficulty of actually playing this enigmatic avatar persisted, and no player has ever claimed to finish the game as Ghast. One by one, the lure of Porto’s lost, unearthly world drew them back to her, and one by one they were compelled towards the finality of the vast white screen.

To find any copy usable today is an almost unfathomably rare occurrence; a still shrink-wrapped copy was sold at an action in 2005 for $733,000 to Yamamoto Ryuichi of Tokyo. It is entirely possible that Yamamoto’s is the last remaining copy of the game. Knowing this, Yamamoto had intended to open his play to all enthusiasts, filming and uploading his progress. However, to date, the only film that has surfaced is a one minute and forty-five second clip of a haggard Yamamoto at his computer, the avatar-choice screen visible over his right shoulder.

Yamamoto is crying.