There is a candle, and there are the quiet ones, and there is your gaze, which is the only weapon anyone gets. A watched thing stops and looks back at you. An unwatched thing takes another soft step toward the flame. Hold your gaze on one long enough and it sighs and goes; look away too long and something reaches the light.
Why it exists
Everyone knows the feeling of a thing that only moves when you are not looking. This toy makes the rule real. Your pointer is your gaze. Pale things creep toward your candle across the dark, and they move only while your gaze is somewhere else. Look at one and it freezes and looks back. The whole game is the question of where to put your attention when everything wants it at once.
The gaze rule is honest
A watched one holds almost perfectly still. An unwatched one closes on the flame. No creature ignores the rule and the timing has no cheat in it. The danger is the size of what you are not looking at.
Stare one down
Hold your gaze on a pale thing for a couple of seconds and it sighs and leaves. That is the only way to be rid of one, and every second you spend on it is a second the others spend creeping.
Three reach the flame
The candle can take two touches. The third puts it out and the dark wins. Your score is how long the candle lived and how many thoughts you stared down, and the kill-cam line is the honest one: they were only ever your own.
The quiet parts
No account, no ads, nothing leaves your browser. Nothing in this room measures, diagnoses, or knows anything about you; it is a toy about how minds wobble, made with affection for the wobble.