Incubo

Incubo is an Indonesian side-scrolling horror platformer developed by Hehe Gamez, where players control a young boy named Adam trapped in a nightmarish realm born from his coma-induced dreams, blending tense platforming, puzzle-solving, and exploration without inventory management. As Adam navigates haunting environments like a circus of fear, an amusement park of doom, and other surreal horrors, the game gradually reveals the dark secrets of his abusive family life, psychological trauma, and a shocking twist about his true identity.

Incubo: Review

Introduction

In the shadowy corridors of indie gaming, where nightmares bleed into reality and forgotten traumas resurface as grotesque spectacles, Incubo emerges as a haunting reminder of how personal horror can eclipse even the most elaborate jump scares. Released in 2019 by the Indonesian studio Hehe Gamez (later rebranded under Inn Gamez Studio), this side-scrolling platformer traps players in the psyche of a vulnerable child navigating a labyrinth of global folklore horrors. Drawing parallels to atmospheric masterpieces like Limbo and Inside, Incubo isn’t just a game—it’s a psychological descent that peels back layers of childhood abuse and fractured identity. My thesis: While its innovative blend of puzzle-platforming and mythological terror carves a unique niche, Incubo‘s legacy is tempered by technical frustrations, making it a bold but uneven entry in the evolution of narrative-driven indie horrors that prioritize emotional gut-punches over polished execution.

Development History & Context

Hehe Gamez, a small Indonesian indie studio founded by a team of passionate artists, designers, and developers, burst onto the scene with Incubo as their flagship project, channeling limitless creativity into immersive, story-rich experiences. The studio’s vision, as articulated on their website, was to craft “interactive works of art” that transport players to alternate realities, emphasizing hand-drawn visuals and deep emotional journeys. Incubo originated as a demo on itch.io in 2018, where it garnered enthusiastic feedback for its atmospheric dread and clever puzzles, prompting a full Steam release on January 31, 2019. Published by Maple Whispering Co., Ltd., the game was built using the Unity engine, which allowed for its fluid 2D scrolling but also highlighted the era’s common indie pitfalls like occasional glitches.

The technological constraints of 2019’s indie scene played a pivotal role: Unity’s accessibility enabled a solo-dev feel despite the team’s collaborative ethos, but budget limitations meant no voice acting or advanced physics—relying instead on direct control and environmental storytelling. The gaming landscape at the time was ripe for this: The success of Playdead’s Inside (2016) and Dontnod’s Life is Strange had popularized “walking simulators” with horror twists, while the indie horror boom (e.g., Fran Bow and Sally Face) emphasized psychological narratives over gore. In Indonesia, a burgeoning game dev hub, Incubo stood out by incorporating global mythologies—vampires, yurei (Japanese ghosts), and evil clowns—into a localized tale of familial trauma, reflecting the studio’s ambition to blend cultural folklore with universal themes. Early demos evolved through community-driven updates, fixing bugs like movement sensitivity and adding skip buttons for cutscenes, showcasing Hehe Gamez’s responsiveness in an era when Steam’s Early Access model was normalizing iterative development.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

At its core, Incubo weaves a tapestry of subconscious horror, following Adam, a young boy hurled into a coma-induced nightmare after a confrontation with his abusive stepfather on a cruise ship. The plot unfolds non-linearly through memory fragments: Adam awakens in a distorted dreamscape, piecing together his fractured life via environmental clues and surreal encounters. The prologue sets a chilling tone, with the stepfather accusing Adam of not being “her,” hinting at deeper loss—perhaps a deceased mother—and escalating abuse that manifests as nightmarish chases.

Plot Breakdown

The story progresses through themed levels representing Adam’s psyche: a Circus of Fear with a malevolent clown boss defeated via produce pelting (tomatoes raining down in a grotesque farce), an Amusement Park of Doom patrolled by feral dogs and high-voltage Ferris wheels, and ghostly theaters haunted by yurei and vampires requiring breath-holding or eye-closing to evade (e.g., crossing out eye signs on posters to blind oneself past horrors). Puzzles reveal lore, like a poster noting “nine patients” with some “already dead,” alluding to a hospital setting tied to Adam’s coma. The narrative builds to a Tomato Surprise twist: Adam and his stepfather are the same person, a manifestation of split personality born from repressed trauma. This revelation, delivered in fragmented dialogue and visual motifs (e.g., advancing walls of doom symbolizing overwhelming guilt), culminates in an “unexpected ending” where “the boy finds the truth, but… is everything over?”—leaving players questioning if awakening from the coma resolves the internal war or merely perpetuates it.

Character Analysis

Adam is a silent protagonist, his vulnerability amplified by childlike animations—wide-eyed curiosity turning to terror. The stepfather embodies abusive archetypes, his rage a Brown Note of paternal failure. Ghosts serve as thematic foils: Living motion detectors (ghost girls demanding stillness) mirror frozen trauma, while global specters (vampires from Eastern European lore, yurei from Japan) underscore Adam’s isolated identity crisis. Dialogue is sparse but poignant, delivered in cutscenes with gory discretion shots (blood splatters obscuring deaths), emphasizing horror through implication rather than excess.

Themes Explored

Incubo delves into psychological horror with unflinching depth. Childhood abuse is central—abusive parents as incubi (nightmare demons, per the Italian title)—exploring how trauma fragments the self, leading to dissociative identity. Themes of identity and reality blur in “Adventures in Comaland,” where the dreamscape critiques escapism: Adam’s journey isn’t escape but confrontation, revealing his “true” self as both victim and abuser. Cultural motifs add layers; by globalizing ghosts, the game universalizes personal pain, while motifs like numbered patients evoke institutional neglect (e.g., mental health systems failing children). The narrative’s ambiguity—echoed in Steam discussions where players confess confusion post-playthrough—mirrors real dissociation, making Incubo a subtle commentary on mental health stigma in indie gaming’s growing empathetic horror subgenre.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

Incubo distills platforming into a tense dance of evasion and intellect, eschewing combat for puzzle-driven survival in a side-view 2D world. Core loops revolve around navigating levels via direct control (keyboard or gamepad), solving environmental riddles under duress, and progressing Adam’s story through checkpoints.

Core Gameplay Loops and Platforming

Players traverse scrolling stages by jumping, pushing/pulling boxes, and timing movements to avoid enemies. Loops emphasize trial-and-error: Die to a ghost (e.g., high-voltage zaps or dog chases), respawn, and adapt—perhaps closing eyes to bypass a “Brown Note” hazard or holding breath past vampires. An Advancing Wall of Doom in later levels ramps tension, forcing split-second decisions. No inventory system keeps it streamlined, but puzzles demand observation, like aligning boxes for ladder jumps in the yurei theater or timing entries into a clown’s tent (waiting in line, then dashing on “next”).

Combat and Evasion

“Combat” is pure avoidance: Enemies like zombies (followed patiently) or produce-pelting clowns require stealth or redirection. Boss fights innovate with cultural flair—the clown succumbs to tomato barrages, a satisfying payoff after buildup. However, flaws abound: Controls feel clunky, with imprecise jumps leading to pixel-perfect frustrations (e.g., ladder-to-platform leaps in theaters). Checkpoints are sparse, resetting puzzles entirely upon death, turning 10-second waits into tedious loops. Early demos highlighted bugs like unpullable boxes or audio cutouts with controllers, mostly patched but lingering in full release.

Character Progression and UI

Progression is linear, gated by puzzle mastery—no upgrades, but story unlocks “reveal” Adam’s past, tying mechanics to narrative (e.g., eye-closing as metaphor for denial). UI is minimalist: No HUD clutters the screen, relying on intuitive icons (e.g., breath meters via visuals). Achievements (30 on Steam) encourage replay for hidden Easter eggs, like canal secrets. Innovations shine in timed puzzles blending folklore—evading global ghosts teaches myth while gameplay— but flaws like fiddly dexterity demands and lack of tolerance (e.g., 1-second windows for clown entries) make it punishing, evoking old-school hardcore but alienating modern players.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Incubo‘s world is a fever-dream collage of distorted Americana twisted by global horrors, transforming mundane settings into visceral nightmares. The cruise ship prologue plunges into a subconscious realm: Crumbling circuses with faded posters, electrified amusement parks teeming with spectral dogs, and fog-shrouded theaters where yurei lurk. World-building excels through interactivity—examinable objects (e.g., patient posters) layer lore, revealing Adam’s coma as a metaphor for trapped innocence amid abuse.

Art direction is a standout: Hand-drawn 2D visuals evoke children’s books corrupted by dread—soft lines for Adam’s silhouette contrast grotesque foes, like balloon-clutching clowns or fizzling Ferris wheels. Atmosphere builds via dim palettes (grays, blood reds) and subtle animations (ghosts’ ethereal drifts), contributing to immersion akin to Limbo‘s silhouette horror but with colorful folklore flair. Sound design amplifies this: Haunting ambient tracks swell during chases, punctuated by creaks, whispers, and heart-pounding stings—headphones recommended for full effect. Gory deaths (screen-splattering blood) and motifs like circus tunes turning sinister create a symphony of unease, where audio cues (e.g., ghost girl scans) guide without hand-holding, forging an oppressive, unforgettable experience.

Reception & Legacy

Upon launch, Incubo received a warm but niche reception, with Steam users awarding it “Mostly Positive” (76% of 168 reviews) and a Metacritic user score of 7.5. Praises centered on its “surprisingly deep story” and “beautiful hand-drawn art,” with players like “wolfrey” hailing it as an “old-fashioned side-scroller” evoking nostalgia sans microtransactions. The demo’s itch.io buzz (4.6/5 from 24 ratings) carried over, with streamers lauding its Inside-like scariness and global ghosts. Criticisms focused on difficulty—frequent deaths, clunky controls, and frustrating resets—echoed in blogs like Florence Entertainment’s 7/10, noting “pixel-perfect jumps” as a barrier. No major critic scores emerged (MobyGames lists none), underscoring its under-the-radar status amid 2019’s indie flood.

Commercially, it sold modestly at $6.99, collected by few (3 on MobyGames), but community discussions (e.g., Steam forums on story confusion) fueled replay value. Post-launch updates addressed bugs, improving legacy—devlogs show fixes for movement, checkpoints, and audio, evolving it from demo frustrations. Its influence is subtle: As an Indonesian entry, it paved for local devs (e.g., Inn Gamez’s Anemorie and Samudra), inspiring horror-platformers blending mythologies (Indigo Park). In broader industry terms, Incubo exemplifies indie’s empathetic horror wave, influencing titles like Chants of Sennaar in cultural storytelling, though its unpolished edges limit it to cult status among puzzle-horror fans.

Conclusion

Incubo masterfully intertwines a profound narrative of trauma and identity with inventive puzzle-platforming, its hand-drawn nightmare worlds and global ghostly rogues delivering chills that linger long after the final twist. Yet, clunky mechanics, punishing difficulty, and technical remnants hinder its potential, transforming moments of brilliance into exercises in patience. As a 2019 indie artifact, it secures a commendable place in video game history—not as a flawless gem like Limbo, but as a courageous exploration of psychological depths from an underrepresented voice. Verdict: Worth enduring for its emotional resonance; a solid 7.5/10, ideal for horror enthusiasts seeking story over smoothness, and a testament to indie’s power to haunt through heart. If Hehe Gamez’s future projects refine these edges, they could redefine the genre—until then, Incubo remains a nightmare worth waking from.