![]() ![]() ![]() There are other dynamics to consider here - kindred downtrodden teens are seeing you with a new, admiring look in their eyes, a vampire is watching soap operas in your parents' recliner, and the police want to know what happened to your parents (it's a long story, beginning with the letter "z"). ![]() The big question is: what will the player choose to do with this power? Conceal their newfound talent or flaunt it with an honour guard of Thriller dancers in the school hallways? (Or compromise: only on Hallowe'en?) Settle old scores, punishing the unjust and tragically banal at the chip shop and city council, or share the anomie of doomed youth writ large, laying waste to the whole town in hopes that it grows less crooked next time around? This youth is the story's sarcastic protagonist, directed by choices the player makes on their behalf, and the talisman is indeed a necromantic fetish endowing the player with the ability to reanimate and control the dead - indeed, they couldn't even get rid of these zombies and skeletons milling listlessly around the living room if they tried. These problems become vanishingly small very suddenly, however, when random and brutal circumstances result in said youth becoming the custodian of a mysterious green-glowing talisman fashioned from a human arm-bone. Life in a small British town is not much fun - for virtually anyone - but especially for an alienated youth with indifferent parents and a bullying problem. ![]()
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