- Release Year: 2024
- Platforms: PlayStation 5, Windows
- Publisher: Rat Cliff Games SLU
- Developer: Rat Cliff Games SLU
- Genre: Action
- Perspective: First-person
- Game Mode: Single-player
- Gameplay: Combat, Exploration, Puzzle, Survival horror
- Setting: Christmas, Contemporary, Mansion
- Average Score: 76/100
Description
Among Ashes is a first-person survival horror game that innovatively blurs the lines between reality and fiction, where players navigate a nightmarish digital realm as an infection spreads from a horror video game into the real world, twisting familiar gaming tropes into terrifying encounters filled with tension, puzzles, and monstrous threats in a meta-narrative developed by indie studio Rat Cliff Games.
Gameplay Videos
Where to Get Among Ashes
PC
Guides & Walkthroughs
Reviews & Reception
metacritic.com (79/100): One of the most original horror games I’ve played, Among Ashes presents a game within a game which quickly draws you in and keeps you captivated until the credits roll.
opencritic.com (74/100): Among Ashes is clever horror with a unique approach to fear, never outstaying its welcome and keeping you on edge until the end.
steamdeckhq.com : The whole idea behind Among Ashes is fantastic.
Among Ashes: Review
Introduction
Imagine booting up your clunky early-2000s desktop on a stormy winter night, the glow of a CRT monitor casting flickering shadows across a cluttered apartment adorned with faded Christmas lights. A friend pings you on an MSN-like messenger with a shady link to a free horror game called Night Call, promising thrills straight out of the PS1 era. But as you dive in, the line between pixels and reality blurs—doors creak in your empty home, whispers echo from the speakers, and the game’s glitches seem to seep into your world. This is the insidious hook of Among Ashes, a 2024 indie survival horror title that weaponizes nostalgia as a gateway to dread. Developed by the small Spanish studio Rat Cliff Games, Among Ashes isn’t just another haunted-house romp; it’s a meta-exploration of gaming’s dark underbelly, where the act of playing becomes the peril. As a game historian, I’ve seen echoes of this in creepypasta lore like Ben Drowned or experimental titles like Doki Doki Literature Club, but Among Ashes carves its niche by blending retro homage with psychological intrusion. My thesis: In an era oversaturated with jump-scare clones, Among Ashes emerges as a daring, if imperfect, revival of survival horror’s introspective roots, proving that indie ingenuity can still unsettle the soul and influence the genre’s future.
Development History & Context
Rat Cliff Games, a modest indie outfit based in Spain, helmed Among Ashes as a passion project that punches above its weight. Founded by a core team including writer and voice actor Daniel Ferrer—who also lends his talents to multiple characters—the studio operates with the scrappy ethos of early-2000s garage developers, but leverages modern tools like Unity to simulate that era’s limitations. Ferrer, drawing from personal anecdotes of late-night PC gaming sessions in the Y2K era, envisioned Among Ashes as a love letter (and subtle critique) to the survival horror boom of the late ’90s and early ’00s. The game’s dual-reality structure—playing a faux-PS1 game (Night Call) that “infects” the player’s simulated apartment—was born from this nostalgia, inspired by urban legends of cursed software and the isolation of dial-up internet nights.
Technological constraints played a pivotal role, mirroring the era it emulates. Built on Unity, Among Ashes intentionally hampers its own fidelity: Night Call‘s low-poly models, tank controls, and grainy filters evoke the hardware limits of the original PlayStation, where developers like Capcom (Resident Evil) and Konami (Silent Hill) squeezed terror from underpowered polygons. Rat Cliff faced real-world hurdles too—a small team of about 36 contributors (including testers and localizers for languages like Japanese and Italian) meant lean resources, leading to reported bugs like softlocks and texture glitches that some reviews mistook for intentional meta-elements. Self-published on PC via Steam, with Dojo System handling the PS5 port, the game launched December 9, 2024, at a budget-friendly $14.99 (PC) / $8.24 (PS5), aligning with indie’s democratizing force.
The 2024 gaming landscape was ripe for this. Survival horror enjoyed a renaissance with indies like Hollowbody and remakes of classics (Silent Hill 2), amid a broader indie boom fueled by platforms like Steam and itch.io. Post-pandemic, players craved intimate, homebound scares—Among Ashes‘ apartment setting tapped into that, echoing P.T.‘s confined terror but with a retro twist. Released during the holiday season, it cleverly subverted festive cheer, much like Silent Hill‘s foggy towns masked deeper malaise. Rat Cliff’s vision—to explore how games haunt us beyond the screen—arrived at a time when meta-horror (e.g., The Quarriest) was gaining traction, positioning Among Ashes as a timely artifact in horror’s evolution from fixed-camera relics to immersive simulations.
Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive
At its core, Among Ashes unfolds as a triptych of intertwined tales: the player’s “real-world” isolation in a 2001 apartment, the in-game Night Call (a police investigation at the eerie Stoker Manor), and the shadowy backstory of Night Call‘s enigmatic creator. The plot ignites when protagonist Jack (voiced by Ferrer) receives a link from friend Amy via “Awesome Messenger,” a spot-on MSN parody. Ignoring the uploaders’ ominous final post—an apology for unleashing “ImSorry.exe”—Jack boots Night Call, only for supernatural bleed: windows fly open, radios blare static, and knocks echo from nowhere. As Night Call progresses, players embody officers Jack and Mark probing a mansion rife with mutations, uncovering lore about a mad inventor’s experiments gone awry. But the real horror is the convergence: Night Call‘s glitches manifest in Jack’s apartment, forcing him to alt-tab between worlds to solve puzzles, like decoding forum posts for manor codes.
Characters are sparse yet resonant, amplifying themes of isolation and trauma. Amy, the chatty friend (voiced by Lauren Clare), evolves from comic relief—gushing over Night Call‘s “scantily clad maid”—to a harbinger of doom, her messages growing frantic as her own reality frays. In Night Call, figures like Lorelei (Alice O.) and antagonist Franck (Peter Wicks) embody archetypal horror: damsels and deranged hosts, but subverted by meta-layers revealing them as extensions of the creator’s psyche. Dialogue shines in its authenticity—clunky, era-specific slang like “XD” and forum lingo feels lived-in, while Night Call‘s amateur VO (wooden and distorted) heightens unease, as if eavesdropping on a forbidden beta.
Thematically, Among Ashes delves into profound territory. Nostalgia as a double-edged sword dominates: the Y2K desktop evokes comforting memories of innocent gaming, yet twists them into vectors for invasion, critiquing how media lingers like trauma. Themes of creative burnout and obsession mirror the creator’s descent—his “unfinished” game as a metaphor for unhealed wounds, echoing Silent Hill‘s psychological manifestations. Meta-elements probe victimhood and infection: Is the player complicit in spreading the curse by sharing links? Isolation amplifies this, with the holiday setting (tinsel-strewn rooms) contrasting festive warmth against creeping dread, exploring how screens isolate us from reality. Subtle nods to abuse and suicide (noted in content warnings) add gravity, making the narrative a haunting meditation on how games process (or perpetuate) personal demons. At ~5 hours, it’s concise yet layered, rewarding replays for choice-driven endings that question survival’s cost.
Gameplay Mechanics & Systems
Among Ashes thrives on its innovative “game-within-a-game” loop, toggling between Night Call‘s survival horror and the apartment’s exploratory tension, creating a rhythmic push-pull of digital and physical peril. Core gameplay splits evenly: In Night Call, players navigate the Stoker Manor’s labyrinthine halls in first-person, scavenging items (keys, ammo) via a clunky inventory system reminiscent of Resident Evil‘s spatial puzzles. Progression ties to resource management—start with a police baton for melee whacks, upgrade to pistols/shotguns with scarce bullets—forcing tactical retreats over Rambo runs. Puzzles are the star: environmental brainteasers, like aligning statues or decoding audio logs, often require alt-tabbing to real-world clues (e.g., rearranging apartment furniture to reveal Night Call codes). This meta-integration is brilliant, turning “exploiting bugs” (forum tips on glitches) into legitimate mechanics, blurring intentional design with chaos.
Outside Night Call, apartment traversal emphasizes vulnerability: No run button means slow, deliberate walks to investigate anomalies, like a ballerina box’s eerie tune bleeding into reality. UI is period-accurate—Windows XP desktop for messaging/forums, with mouse-click interactions feeling tactile yet fiddly. Character progression is light: Health via pills, no deep RPG trees, keeping focus on survival. Innovations shine in the bleed mechanic—Night Call events trigger apartment events (e.g., a manor scream syncs with door knocks), heightening paranoia. Combat, however, falters: Melee feels stiff and unresponsive, hitboxes on enemies (grotesque zombies/mutations by Kilian Ibáñez) are wonky, and AI revives foes unpredictably, leading to frustrating chases. Pacing dips in repetitive manor loops, and some puzzles overcomplicate (e.g., sound-file riddles demanding pixel-hunting), risking softlocks. On PS5, controller support is solid but inherits PC jank; Steam Deck play demands FPS caps for stability. Overall, the systems innovate by making playtime the hazard, though bugs (crashes, trophy glitches) undermine polish—patches are ongoing, per dev responses.
World-Building, Art & Sound
Among Ashes excels in crafting dual worlds that bleed into psychological symbiosis, where setting amplifies immersion. The apartment anchors the “real” layer: A lived-in UK flat (subtle nods to British locales via batons over guns) cluttered with 2001 detritus—flickering holiday lights, scattered CDs, a bulky PC—evokes intimate isolation. It’s not vast but oppressively familiar, shadows lengthening as night deepens, turning mundane spaces (hallway, living room) into liminal horrors. Night Call‘s manor contrasts as a retro fever dream: Fog-shrouded PS1 aesthetics—blocky geometry, jittery animations—build a labyrinth of decayed opulence, rooms twisting like Escher puzzles. Easter eggs abound: Forum nods to MyHouse.wad or Doom mods enrich the haunted-media lore, making the world feel like a cursed artifact.
Art direction masterfully juxtaposes eras: Realistic apartment shaders (reflective tinsel, rainy windows) clash with Night Call‘s low-res grit (CRT filters, bloom-free voids), visually signaling the infection’s spread. Enemies—mutated husks with elongated limbs—distort familiar tropes, their designs evoking Silent Hill‘s body horror but pixelated for unease. Atmosphere peaks in subtlety: Dim lighting fosters dread, glitches warping geometry to mimic breakdown.
Sound design is the game’s sonic scalpel, carving tension with precision. José Luis Echave’s score layers ambient drones—creaking floors, distant thunder—with Night Call‘s lo-fi synths and distorted VO, creating disorientation (e.g., in-game screams echoing IRL). Silence is weaponized: Post-jumpscare lulls invite paranoia, broken by groans or radio static. Headphone immersion elevates this—ballerina melodies warp from tinny speakers to omnipresent haunts—mirroring themes of intrusion. José’s cues swell during chases, blending orchestral swells with glitch noise, making every step a auditory trap. Together, these elements forge an experience where world-building isn’t backdrop but co-conspirator, lingering like a bad dream.
Reception & Legacy
Upon launch, Among Ashes garnered solid acclaim, averaging 76% on MobyGames (21 critics) and 79 on Metacritic (PS5), hailed as a “breath of fresh air” in indie’s horror surge. Outlets like Thumb Culture (100%) and GameSpew (90%) praised its originality—”a game within a game that captivates until credits”—and nostalgic scares, with Impulse Gamer (86%) lauding audio fidelity. VG Reloaded (85%) and KeenGamer (85%) spotlighted holiday-timed unnerving twists, while Meristation (82%) celebrated Spanish indie’s talent. Lower scores, like Final Weapon’s 30% and Evilgamerz’s 55%, dinged bugs and clunky combat, calling it “unpolished” despite conceptual promise. VICE’s unscored rave—”a standout in stacked indie horror”—and user scores (6.7 on Metacritic) reflect polarized play: Fans adore meta-depth, but glitches frustrate.
Commercially, modest success: #297 on PS5 charts, #5,100 on Windows, with 3 collectors on MobyGames. Priced accessibly, it sold steadily on Steam ($10.49 post-launch), bolstered by a demo during Steam FPS Fest. Reputation evolved positively—patches addressed crashes/softlocks, boosting Steam Deck viability (ProtonDB: Playable with tweaks). As legacy, it influences meta-horror: Echoing P.T.‘s abandonment but indie-accessible, it inspires “cursed game” experiments, akin to Doki Doki‘s viral impact. In history, Among Ashes marks 2024’s indie pivot toward personal, nostalgic terror—revitalizing PS1 homage amid remakes—potentially seeding a wave of boundary-blurring titles. Rat Cliff’s future (hinted sequels) could cement it as a cult touchstone.
Conclusion
Among Ashes distills survival horror’s essence into a meta-masterpiece: A stormy-night descent where nostalgia curdles into nightmare, blending Night Call‘s retro grit with apartment-bound dread to probe isolation, obsession, and gaming’s haunting grip. Strengths—innovative dual loops, atmospheric art/sound, thematic depth—outweigh flaws like buggy combat and puzzle opacity, delivering ~5 hours of genuine unease. Rat Cliff Games, with limited means, crafts a bold statement on horror’s evolution, echoing classics while forging indie paths. In video game history, it earns a verdicts as a pivotal 2024 gem: Not flawless, but essential for fans craving fresh frights. Play it alone, lights low— and keep the door locked. Score: 8.5/10 – A haunting indie triumph that lingers like static on an old screen.