r/survivalhorror • u/Easy_Bit_1118 • 6h ago
Is a horror game built on analog crystal radios, invisible entities, and identity bleed actually fun, or am I overcomplicating it?
A 'blinded-test' of gameplay for future psychological survival horror... no commercial here, just discussion and opinions!
***
Hey everyone!
Following up a recent thread about how the survival horror often devolves into standard stealth/FPS gameplay in a ghost suit, I’ve been trying to solve that exact issue in my own project. I want to pitch a core gameplay loop to you—no marketing fluff, no wishlist links, just raw mechanics—to see if this sounds like something you’d genuinely want to play, or if there are red flags I’m blind to.
The premise puts you as an external contractor reading through the journals of a deceased scientist and "reliving" his memories of a city that shouldn't exist. But as you progress, exploring his past starts contaminating your own identity until you can't tell where he ends and you begin.
Here is how the actual gameplay loop works:
The Core Tool: A heavy 1930s Crystal Radio in a Briefcase (No HUD)
There are no health bars, crosshairs, or mini-maps. Everything relies on spatial 3D audio, subtle screen distortion, and physical controller haptics. Your primary interaction tool is a modified crystal radio inside a briefcase. Since it's a galena receiver, it doesn't run on standard batteries—it requires calibrating the crystal whisker (where you actually feel the tension/micro-vibrations of the signal through haptics) and turning a dial while keeping an eye on a voltmeter to maintain a clean frequency. Because of its weight, using it forces you to stop and stand your ground: you cannot move normally while operating it.
7 Unique Entities (Practically invisible to the Naked Eye)
Instead of generic roaming monsters, there are only 7 unique antagonist entities throughout the entire game. They are completely invisible in normal space. You can only track them through spatialized binaural audio and ambient details cues and reveal/interact with them by physically aiming the radio briefcase and tuning into their specific frequency. To defend yourself or disrupt them, you have to manually charge the radio's diodes beforehand to release an "equalization pulse." Misjudge the direction in 3D space, miss the charge, or panic while calibrating the crystal, and you lose the window—leaving you completely exposed.
The "Game Over" isn't death, it's expulsion
There’s no hiding in lockers or standard combat. When an entity catches you or your psychological stability breaks, you aren't killed—you get violently snapped out of the memory state back into a decrepit, stagnant room in 1984. To jump back into the frequency, you have to manually focus on a specific personal artifact and play a limited record on a gramophone (your save point).
The Save System vs. Endings trade-off
To save your game, you need rare Bakelite records. But here's the catch: these records are extremely limited, consumable, AND they act as physical keys needed to unlock the different story conclusions at the end of the game. Every time you save, you are permanently burning a potential ending path just for peace of mind.
Spatial progression instead of a hub
You’re descending linearly through a fragmented city of 1930, ending up deep underground. The architecture gradually shifts from believable European streets to impossible, surreal structures as the memory degrades.
***
I'd really appreciate your brutal honesty on a few things:
Invisible Entities + Audio Tracking: Does using spatial 3D audio cues and directional radio aiming to track invisible threats sound like genuine, atmosphere-heavy tension, or does it risk feeling frustrating?
The Stationary Briefcase Mechanics: Is stopping in place to calibrate crystals (feeling the feedback via haptics) and charge diodes under threat a mechanic you'd enjoy mastering, or a dealbreaker?
The Save/Ending Trade-off: Is sacrificing story endings for mid-game saves a brutal, rewarding choice or just rage-inducing?
Curious to hear what you guys think.