Lost Sanity is a horror anthology where stories told by a group of teenagers on Halloween night come to life. Each tale becomes a playable chapter, revealing worlds that exist only between flickering candles, tense breaths, and the kind of imagination no one dares to admit is real. Here, every narrative is a door, and not all doors can be closed once opened.
The first chapter drags you into the depths of the unknown. In a sunken, forgotten city, a cosmic entity waits in absolute silence. Meanwhile, cultists gather inside an isolated cavern, performing rituals that slowly tear open the thin boundaries between the mundane and the unfathomable.
Call of the Sea is not just a story about awakening something ancient, it's about the weight of the unknown pulsing behind every damp wall and the unsettling certainty that water, even distant, is always listening.
You awaken as Megan Claire, a former reporter who thought she had seen it all… until now. Waking up in an underground prison is merely the prologue of the nightmare: footsteps outside, silence inside.
Your mission is simple in theory: survive and escape. In practice, every inch you crawl demands absolute attention, quiet breathing, and the courage to move forward without knowing if someone, or something, is moving toward you.
The game rewards those who think like a shadow.
Move silently, observe patterns, use objects in the environment to divert attention, and create opportunities to flee. Stealth isn’t just an option, it’s a law. As the ritual advances, noise doesn’t attract only the cultists… it attracts what they worship.
Every corner of the cavern, every lost note, every forgotten artifact reveals a fragment of the world. Interact with objects, piece together the cultists’ timeline, and uncover how Megan ended up there. The horror deepens when you realize that answers never come alone, they always bring new questions.
There is something in the darkness that never sleeps.
Something that senses every movement, even when you try to be invisible.
Lost Sanity: Cthulhu doesn’t rely solely on jump scares, it cultivates psychological tension, a silent presence, and the creeping feeling of being evaluated. Danger doesn’t always approach; sometimes, it simply waits for you to look back.