The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown

While enjoyable, Boakes did not find these humble works lucrative enough. He supported himself first at a big web company and then as a sushi chef. He preferred the latter, saying that it was good clinical exercise as compared to the soul-crushing monotony of putting together gif web banners. So when not folding bits of fish in seaweed and rice, he created his first full-fledged commercial product: Dark Fall: The Journal.

The game was an 18-month labor of love, completed at last in April of 2002. When the independent production gained a little momentum around adventure gaming circles, it was met with rave reviews, critics lauding the one-man effort for its intricacies and atmosphere. About a year later, in May 2003, games distributor The Adventure Company approached Boakes with the proposition to pick up Dark Fall and publish it as a professional, global title. The deal was made, the game received a wide release, and the series’ humble legacy began.

Dark Fall: The Journal (2003) - PC

The camera focuses in on a nightstand by your bedside, upon which is an answering machine. The screen slowly pans out at a frame every few seconds and the answering machine plays back a message from your brother, Pete. Pete is a well-regarded architect currently working on the redevelopment of an abandoned train station. He hardly ever calls except in emergencies, and this seems to be a dire one. He says something’s wrong. He says that there were two ghost hunters in the station, Polly and Nigel, but now he can’t find them anywhere. He fears that what they were looking for has found them.

“I think it’s found me too,” he goes on. The opening credits and theme song—which is a lovely mixture of violin with eerie radio static—fade in.

“Please help,” he says. “You’re always good with things like this … Come to Dowerton Station. It’s abandoned. I’ll be waiting … This place is beginning to freak me out …This all started a few days ago. It was when—… I can hear it. It’s right outside my door, whispering. Whispering my name... It knows my name! I’ve got to open the door, I’ve got to open the door!— ”

With the message cuts off, you, Pete’s brother, the protagonist, wake up in a cold, lonely train tunnel, beckoned by the voice of a young boy. He says his name is Tim. He’s friendly, helpful, and cheerful, yet nowhere in sight…

From the start, you know that things aren’t quite what they seem here. You pick up a newspaper. The headline describes six disappearances in and around the station. Then, with a deepening sense of dread, you move onward toward the station and its connecting hotel. As you begin to explore these environments, you find journals and articles, hear the voices of the dead, and slowly begin to unravel the great evil which lies under this quaint little place.

As for the graphics themselves, despite their low production values they work pretty well. While lack of a big budget makes for some occasionally cheesy visuals, the slideshow style makes every slight movement on screen that much more uncanny. One such example is when while staring across a long hallway you see a faint white orb float across the other end. These little touches make the player fear for something sinister to appear despite their better judgment. Complaints can certainly still be made, as certain objects look unrealistic and after a while one may long for something a little more kinetic, but when taken in the context of its practically one-man development critics will be hard pressed not to praise the effort.

The game’s cast of characters ends up being somewhere around fourteen, but you never really get to see any of them. This can be seen as an acknowledged weakness turned strength. This lack of true character interaction deepens the sense of isolation the player is met with while exploring Dowerton Station. On the other hand, some may be turned off by the exhausting effort of pouring over so much written word. This is all a matter of taste, of course. The laborious information collecting still arguably adds up to a well-rounded, creepy storyline.

Many, though not all, characters are fantastically (and ironically) fresh and alive. Each has a unique backstory, such as the failed actress living out her days hiding in the hotel or the amateur astronomer with a taste for red wine, and they help immensely in coloring the history of the location.

The sound effects were almost entirely recorded by Boakes using his own home and voice as well as two professional voice actors who each played a few of the characters. The voice acting is a bit above B-movie quality, but sometimes it can strike the player as awkward, jarring, and unrealistic. Just listen to your brother’s message in the opening—it gets neither better nor much worse than that. Some sound effects are cheesy and detract from the overall dread (such as the repetitive rat squeaks in the bathrooms), yet others are used with spectacular results. Where others games make you jump from blood and screams, this game gives you goosebumps whenever you hear the stairs creak. It is heavily recommended that you play alone in the dark with headphones.

Puzzles drastically differ in terms of challenge. Some are devastatingly simple item collecting affairs. You’ll occasionally suffer from a lack of apparent hotspots. In fact pretty much all of the hot spots could have been much larger, from door handles to the directional arrows. One day a point-and-click adventure game won’t have this problem, but until then…

The main puzzle is sweeping and game-length, requiring the player to memorize and put in order twelve lyrics that will be used during the game’s finale. All other puzzles are little tributaries that will eventually lead to one of the lyrics. The game isn’t too difficult, but it cannot be held against him for peeking at a guide once or twice if only for lack of guidance. It isn’t a long game, but it is nonlinear, which can be daunting to modern players. It also has an in-game hint system, in which little ghost boy Timothy will give you advice on how to proceed, which is nice.

The puzzles are inextricably tied into the atmosphere, which is very admirable indeed. You will use ghost-hunting gear like EVPs, Ouija boards, and surveillance cameras. You will point out constellations through a telescope, you’ll be sorting keys, you’ll be doing all sorts of things that one would expect to do in this situation. The player is challenged without the feeling that the puzzles are arbitrarily crammed in, like, say, in The 7^th Guest. They’re meant to work seamlessly.

The game runs at a 640x480 resolution, which would be fine, if not grainy and outdated, except the player has to set it manually back and forth. Plus many newer computers don’t even allow for screen resolutions lower than 800x600. Aside from that though, technical problems are surprisingly sparse. Boakes debugged his game pretty well. It was a labor of love, after all.

• 
  Wilfred Gibson, “Ballad of Flannan Isle”
  

Ghosts are still very much prevalent in Lights Out, but another interesting feature is added: time-travel. After exploring the island, Parker finds himself whisked off to three separate time periods beside his own. This is done with intent and is not at all gimmicky, although it is undoubtedly a unique change of pace, especially when you enter the science-fiction world of 2090 AD.

Unlike the original, there are a handful of human characters to interact with. Polly White, one of the ghost hunters from the first game, makes a brief appearance. Here we come to another, albeit slight, innovation from the first game: dialogue trees. It really hardly makes a difference what choices you pick—there are only a few instances when you can anyway—but the sense of actually being a character in a plot in a way deepens the sense of immersion, and this will be much expanded upon in Boakes’ next game.

Aside from these points, Lights Out is much the same as its predecessor. Graphically there are improvements, as it now runs at 800x600 resolution. There’s also a bit more motion to the surrounding environment, such as rippling water, shifting mist, and the lighthouse’s revolving bulb.

These cosmetic improvements are pleasant, but there are some drawbacks too. The characters, for instance. Demarion may only make an appearance for a brief introductory discourse at the beginning of the game, but his visage moves at little more than a couple frames per second, making it look extraordinarily jagged, ugly, and unprofessional. Luckily there are hardly any characters ever on screen, so this complaint doesn’t carry very far at all.

Another complaint stems from how monochrome the environments are. This was a clear attempt to create a style akin to an old photograph, but the effect is blander than it is creepy or archaic.

The story is different from its predecessor, though about on par in terms quality and depth. The conflict is set in motion early on and the time-traveling gives it a unique twist. It might not have the same horror that Dark Fall did, but you can tell that Boakes believed in his creation. The same storytelling complaints apply with this entry, seeing as how plot points are painstakingly unraveled through lengthy journal entries and manuscripts. Studious players will eat this right up, but the typical gamer will probably groan and skim or skip most things.

Music and sound effects are notches above the bar set previously. Songs are meagerly used but create a wonderful atmosphere. They carry and elaborate on the use of eerie violins and other stringed instruments set in motion by the first game. Sounds effects are less cheesy as well. The voice acting fluctuates, but is mostly tolerable. Old British sci-fi TV serial sensibilities, for better or for worse, remain.

Puzzles are at about the exact same level of difficult as they always were. Lots of symbols, numbers, and chests and doors with unique locks. If you pay attention and read everything available to you, you should have no trouble in solving most of them. Many problems actually stem from trying to find puzzles and manuscripts in the first place. One supposes that pixel hunting haunts adventure games just as maliciously as the ghosts in Lights Out. It isn’t game breaking, thankfully. It only creates the occasion nuisance.

Simply put, if you loved Dark Fall then you will love Lights Out. They have more similarities than differences, but are different enough so that you don’t feel it’s more of the same. This time around, the haunting mood is a mere fraction of the overall atmosphere. So while it’s not as scary, Lights Out still to an extent maintains that quiet sense of dread that made the first so great.

In 2009, the Director’s Cut version of Lights Out was released. This version comes with slightly updated and improved graphics, a few more puzzles, and adds some details to the plot that were otherwise ambiguous. It makes no drastic changes, but is by far the superior product.

The Lost Crown: A Ghost-Hunting Adventure (2008) – PC

With a heavy nod to M.R. James’ horror story “A Warning to the Curious,” Jonathan Boakes returns to the videogame scene, his XXv productions now joined with Darkling Room. With more help (some from Shadow Tor Productions, which will be discussed later) and a bigger budget, Boakes tells the story of Nigel Danvers—who may or may not be the same Nigel from Dark Fall—who has fled from London after stealing top-secret documents from his employer, Haden Industries. These documents are proof that Haden is involved with paranormal experiments. (Details are sketchy; it’s never fully explained. They sure are important though!) Knowing that he is pursued by two of his employer’s agents, and knowing that they will not treat him well if caught, Nigel takes a train into the country and winds up in Saxton, a quaint and calm fictitious harbor town in eastern England.

Somehow, Mr. Hadden is a step ahead of Nigel. He knows exactly where Nigel is. But instead of capturing and reprimanding him, Haden decides to give him mission: Research the local spiritual activity and locate a lost Anglo-Saxon crown, purportedly buried somewhere in the region.

Left with no choice, Nigel suits up with the proper ghost-hunting gadgets and gets to work. He consults and develops relationships with the locals, travels through the Fens of England, and learns about its lush folklore and history. Along the way he befriends young psychology student Lucy Reubans, who then assists him in his quest.

As they delve into the mystery, of course, its sinister protectors begin to reveal themselves.

[LostCrown-nigeldanvers.png]

Nigel Danvers:

An inexperienced ghost hunter with a “playful, spooky nature.” He is clearly a reflection of Boakes himself. A man of mysticism and the supernatural, he is idealistic, determined in his goals, and oddly at ease with the threat of imminent danger. His oft-repeated motto is “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

[LostCrown-lucyreubans.png]

Lucy Reubans:

A local girl of 26. She lives in her hometown of Saxton while on break from her schooling. She places all her faith in science and logic. While her outward demeanor is cheerful, she hints at being haunted by a dark event in her past. After experiencing inexplicable paranormal phenomena, Lucy feels begrudgingly obligated to help Nigel in his adventures.

The Lost Crown’s presentation differs greatly from its predecessors in several ways, namely that 1) it is now viewed from a 3^rd-person perspective and 2) that it revolves more heavily on character interaction. This idea is a warm welcome for those who tire of the previous labors of picking up the events of the story after the fact. Although the plot is still similar, it is much more hands-on this time.

While this is nice, characters are almost entirely one-dimensional, which will be a disappointment to players expecting a story driven in this respect. The characters do little more than assist the player in exposing more of the plot. The two leads are endearing enough for the player to root for them, but their personalities are pretty shallow and static. For instance, Nigel is strangely calm given his circumstances, and he is far too comfortable with certain turns of events as the game goes on.

In addition, voice work has always been wobbly, but since it was never used in great amounts in previous games it was hard to give too a hard time about it. While The Lost Crown isn’t terrible in this respect, certain inflections, phrasings, and choices of words can get questionable. Plus some lines of dialogue are re-used in different conversations, showing cracks in the otherwise lovely reality of the game.

The innovation of flesh-and-blood characters was very much welcome, but Boakes still has a ways to go in order to make them truly compelling.

That said, there are still some fantastic scenes in the game. Fully developed characters are not at all necessary to create the scares and quirks that really sell this game. Mr. Gruel, for example, is the proprietor of Saxton’s antique shop. The thing about Gruel is that he only speaks through his puppet Jemima. It’s a detail that really brings home a sense of general unease about the town. There also some interesting friendly ghosts who you’ll encounter along the way. One bittersweet scene involving the ghosts of two children in an isolated church is particularly memorable. None of these characters are deep, but they prove to be excellent tools in propelling the story and mood further.

Graphically, The Lost Crown is a triumph. The majority of the world is in black-and-white, however a vivid rush of color is added to some sparing detail in nearly every shot—from the sheer blue of the country sky to the bursting pink of garden flowers. Add in hints of motion, such as rolling fog or a frog jumping into a pond, and the atmosphere’s beauty is cemented. These cinematic shots are based on photographs taken in locations such as Cornwall and Devon, which were then digitally edited to fit into the style of the game. The passion that Boakes shows for these sorts of locales is admirable and contagious. And when darkness falls, these idyllic pastures effortlessly become some of the scariest videogame settings in recent memory.

This all said, the character models are disappointingly stiff. They don’t look bad when static, though still far from great, but they animate atrociously. Nigel’s slow, robotic turns and body movements will aggravate all but the most patient of players.

The puzzles are, well, more of the same, with the addition of interacting with townspeople. You’ll be fixing fuse boxes, memorizing lock combinations, reading up on symbols to make use of them, etc. It might be a bit easier this time around, if only because most puzzles have their solutions hidden somewhere in the same area, whereas before you had to jaunt around from one end of the game to the next in order to discover certain things.

By far the best aspect of the gameplay is the ghost-hunting, wherein there is offered the most scares and entertainment. One particularly memorable instance is when you bug the house you’ve rented in order to sleuth out the spirits. It’s pretty chilling to discover that ghosts have been around the entire time you’ve stayed there. You’ll be taking advantage of night-vision goggles in crypts and graveyards, using electromagnetic field meters, digital video cameras, voice recorders, and the like. It’s nifty and fun and really the biggest thing that differentiates Boakes’ games from other point-and-click adventures.

The Lost Crown is a great deal longer than its predecessors as well, taking weeks to complete instead of a few days. It actually does have a grander scale and ambition, but there is much artificial lengthening to be criticized. Nigel, of course, moves too darn slow. Luckily there’s a double-clicking fast-forward option to skip through most terrain, but it’s still a nuisance. There’s also the dialogue trees, which stretch out far past their welcome and cannot really be skipped.

In the end, The Lost Crown is, like the others, a fantastic but flawed labor of love. Despite poor 3D character models, the background environments are wonderful. Despite many generic adventure game puzzle tropes, there are wonderfully original ghost-hunting puzzles and worthwhile scares. Despite the underdeveloped characters, the story and ambiance are compelling enough to make up for them.

A sequel, The Lost Crown: Haunting of Hallowed Isle, has been in production for some time now. Release dates are as yet unknown. Boakes’ has stated on Twitter that it’s still definitely being worked on.

Dark Fall: Lost Souls (2009) – PC

The third entry in the Dark Fall series puts you in the shoes of a man known only as the Inspector. You wake up in a train tunnel surrounded by newspaper scraps, broken bottles, derelict shopping carts, and disassembled mannequins. Amusingly the only items in your inventory are a fifth of vodka and some pills. A text message pops up on your phone, a taunt from someone named “Echo.” Newspapers nearby indicate that a local girl named Amy disappeared from the area some time ago. It turns out that you were in charge of this case. A man known only as “Mr. Bones” was the prime suspect, but you failed to find compelling enough evidence against him and have since been wracked with disgrace and shame.

Exiting the tunnel, you find yourself in a familiar location… Dowerton Station.

The years have not been kind to the place. It is now an urban ruin, littered with a dozen times the amount of trash and vandalism seen in the first game. Jagged bottles, cockroaches, empty syringes, torn and broken furniture, and indefinable stains coat the area. Likewise, the spirits are more outwardly restless than before. This marks its drastically redefined atmosphere.

Music, sound effects, and voice work are pretty darn effective. Ghosts will be whispering horrible things into your ear, bugs will writhe and crawl with slimy, gross noises, the walls and floors will creak, the building will make noises as if it were alive, and a jolt of inexplicable calamity will erupt whenever something pops up on you.

The Inspector’s voice showcases the expected overdramatic voicing, but Amy and Mr. Bones are fairly well done.

Gameplay is linear, which might be cause for complaint depending on your taste. Dowerton no longer has that “open world” feel. Since the game is mostly comprised of making your way up to the top floor of the hotel, your progress is mostly defined by the amount of rooms you’ve progressed through. The story is also requires only meager reading of journal entries and newspapers. Most plot points are brought to you through interactions with the ghosts.

The puzzles, meanwhile, are cause for a little disappointment. They aren’t bad exactly, but not of the same caliber set previously. You will most assuredly be groaning after putting together the fourth or fifth torn-up photograph, flyer, or journal page. Some puzzles also just seem too trial-and-error. One of the most obtuse is when you have to listen to a series of tones and then recreate them by shaking a can of bones. What for, you ask? To get a phone number. You know, like you do. There is a simple timed puzzle, in which you have to connect wires correctly before a “Shadowkin” attacks you from across the room. The puzzle would be lame on its own, but the tension felt from seeing that Shadowkin slowly approach you is amazingly scary. You can die, in a sense, but this just means that you have to return to the previous area and makes little impact on deterring your progress.

Graphics are still done in a slide-show manner, but we now have a 360 degree view at a resolution of 1024x768 pixels. The graphical overhaul bears a stark improvement over all of Boakes’ past efforts. While not as slick and stylized as The Lost Crown, Lost Souls triumphs in its new—albeit familiar—atmosphere. The graphics now have more in common with games like Silent Hill or Fatal Frame than old British TV serials. That sense of horror just bubbling beneath the surface is now replaced with horror straight-up thrown in your face. Some fans will complain of the lack of subtlety, others will rejoice at this more accessible variety of scares.

Matt Clark and Jonathan Boakes have much in common. They share their passion for the mystique and charm of ghost stories and they celebrate this passion through interactive media. Clark’s work heavily mirrors Dark Fall. They seem to have taken inspiration from the same sources. Clark’s Shadow Tor Productions assisted heavily in the production of The Lost Crown and has collaborated heavily with Boakes and Darkling Room ever since. But before Crown, Shadow Tor released Barrow Hill.

You are taking a drive out into the English countryside during the Autumn Equinox, listening to local radio diva Emma Harry, who in her trailer in the swampland cheerfully guides you through the witching hour. All of a sudden your car breaks down. Getting out and moving in one direction, you find yourself compelled away by a mysterious force. Then traveling on in the opposite direction, you find a motel, a diner, a gas station… but no people. It seems to have been occupied recently, but no one is around. Lights are on in the buildings. What happened? Soon you find yourself following in the footsteps of famed archeologist Conrad Morse, who was doing some excavation in the area. It seems he’s unwittingly released an ancient evil in the area. And it is of course up to you to stop it.

Barrow Hill is immersive as heck. Its production values are extremely admirable for an independent effort. The locales are lush and creepy, the atmosphere penetratingly lonely, the story minimal but well-executed. Emma Harry is also a surprisingly charming figure. You never get to see her aside from a brief appearance on a cell phone screen, but she adds a nice human aspect to the story, so you’re reminded of what’s really at stake here. Her voice work is great too.

As expected, puzzles are mostly comprised of standard inventory collecting and usage. It’s still very fun for the adventure gamer, and the sense of immersion is more important here than the challenge of the puzzles. It’s nonlinear and exploring the area is the real draw of the game. The pre-rendered backgrounds are very easy on the eyes, the sound effects bring home the sense of creepiness and dread (“The graphics are all static, I have no reason to be sca—OH GOD WHAT WAS THAT NOISE???”), and the information and details that abound throughout the place bring it all together. You’ll pick up plenty of tidbits about archeology and history. A good adventure game is one that drives you to uncover everything you can about the story and about the setting, and Barrow Hill succeeds famously in this regard.

Its sequel, Braken Tor: The Time of Tooth and Claw, seems to have been in production for some time now. It is not clear when or if it will be released.