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Info Written by Tried to replicate the eerie feeling of being a kid outside at night, intruding on a once-innocent play area which now seems forbidden to prying eyes. Inspired by a midnight snowshoe hike in the mountains in which our group started a snowball fight with some strangers we ran into. I could only see their shadowy shapes through the trees and the dark. Snowballs flew left and right, and we left chuckling. Of course, I assumed they human. |
It was a glimpse of a winter's night, a frozen snapshot from a time long gone.
Remember how your lungs itched for crisp cold air? How your gloved hands longed for the crunch of the snow? You only ever wanted to play, but they didn't let you.
Yet here you are now. The snow sparkles. The swings are empty. The snow angels welcome you.
SURVIVAL DIFFICULTY:
Class 2
- Secure
- Entity Dominance
- Imminent Confrontation
Description:
Level 298 is a children's playground in the dead of winter. It consists of basic structures such as swings, a slide, a playhouse, curved ladders, and monkey bars. Thick, fluffy snow covers every flat surface. Its consistency is fresh, packable, and not too powdery—perfect for making snowballs.1
The air hangs silently in the chilly night. Deep orange clouds stretch over the sky, casting a warm tint on the snow. A single white lamp at the edge of the park shines brightly. Other than this, no other significant light sources or landmarks can be found outside the playpark.
There are no other wanderers2 in the level. One always arrives alone. But they won't be alone for long.
As you scamper around the park, the snow angels eagerly follow you like a school of fish. You climb the monkey bars over them. Their shapes ripple down the slide. You play tag and they scatter. Where did they go? Your heavy breaths form mist in the air.
The snow angels are nowhere to be seen. They must be afraid of the children behind you.
Entities:
Snow angels
Several snow angels of varying sizes are imprinted in the snow. They can glide across surfaces, visible as angel-shaped indentations seamlessly sliding on snow. They can even "climb" stairs and slide down the slide. The snow angels always stay within the park's confines. They only ever wanted to play.
When a wanderer enters the level, the snow angels view them as a new playmate and approach them. This may seem unsettling, but they are actually benign. These immaterial presences cannot cause any harm nor be harmed. Their existence has been reduced to a mere shadow of their former selves, only a negative presence bound to the very snow they recklessly sought out.
When the other children are close enough to the playground, the snow angels scatter and hide. They remember how the sneering children forcibly pushed them into the snow, how their arms flailed helplessly to form what are now their wings. The snow angels will warn you. Listen to them.3
The other children
The other children4 will always seek the playground. It is unknown where they came from or why their eyes gleam, but sooner or later, inevitably, they will find the playpark. It belongs to them, after all.
They approach in a group of three to five, and they don't want to share. Nothing seems to physically harm their murky bodies; however, they can only be fended off with tightly packed snow. Do not be fooled by this whimsical snowball fight on a dark forbidden night. Winning means the freedom to play. Losing means an eternal, angel-shaped prison of snow.
The shadowy children come closer, giggling with excitement.
Start making snowballs.
You've already seen what happened to those who lost.
Exit:
Run back home.
Run to the blazing fireplace and cozy blankets that you so naively discarded for a taste of a winter's night.
Pray that they are still warm.