- Type
- Parser-based
- Length
- Long (6-10 hours)
- Author
- Michael Gentry
- Year
- 1998
Anchorhead
There’s a moment in Anchorhead when you realize the town has been watching you all along. Not the people — the town itself. The streets that loop back on themselves. The windows that seem darker from inside than out. The way the fog rolls in precisely when you’d rather it didn’t.
Michael Gentry’s 1998 classic remains the gold standard for horror in interactive fiction. You play a woman who’s just moved to the decrepit New England town of Anchorhead with her husband, who’s inherited a mysterious estate. What begins as unpacking boxes and exploring a new home spirals into cosmic horror that would make Lovecraft proud.
The Weight of Place
Anchorhead itself is the real antagonist. Gentry builds the town through accumulation — each location adding another layer of wrongness. The real estate office with its too-friendly clerk. The church with its locked basement. The pub where conversations stop when you enter. None of these are overtly threatening on day one, but they lodge in your mind like splinters.
Town Square
Gray flagstones, slick with rain and mist, stretch away to the north and south. The dismal streets of Anchorhead crowd close on every side. An old, moss-eaten fountain stands in the center of the square.
examine fountain
The fountain has been dry for years. Lichen and sickly moss have colonized the basin. The statue in the center depicts some sort of cherub, but its features have been worn away by time and weather.
The Verlac mansion anchors everything. Its rooms unfold like a puzzle box, each discovery raising more questions. The architecture doesn’t quite make sense. Hallways seem longer than they should be. You’ll find yourself mapping the house obsessively, not because the game demands it, but because you need to understand.
What Works
The pacing is impeccable. Gentry understands that horror lives in the space between discoveries. Day one feels almost mundane — you’re finding keys, meeting locals, getting your bearings. By day three, you’re questioning reality itself. The game trusts you to notice the wrongness accumulating rather than announcing it.
The parser implementation rewards thorough exploration without punishing reasonable assumptions. Examine everything. Read everything. The game trusts you to be curious and pays that curiosity back with layers of worldbuilding that most modern games can’t match.
Key verbs you’ll use constantly:
- EXAMINE (or X) — your most important tool
- READ — books, papers, and inscriptions hide crucial lore
- SEARCH — sometimes more thorough than examine
- ASK [person] ABOUT [topic] — NPCs know more than they let on
The writing threads a needle between purple prose and clinical detachment. Gentry knows when to describe the texture of decay on a wall and when to simply state what you find. The restraint makes the vivid moments land harder.
What works
- Masterful slow-burn atmosphere
- Puzzles serve the story
- Deep, explorable world
- Fair parser implementation
What doesn't
- Some timing-dependent puzzles
- Possible soft-locks on day three
- A few obscure object interactions
The Puzzle Design
Anchorhead’s puzzles serve the story rather than blocking it. You’re never solving a sliding tile puzzle for its own sake — you’re figuring out how to access the next piece of the mystery. Many solutions feel less like adventure game logic and more like the desperate improvisation of someone in genuine danger.
That said, some puzzles rely on timing that can lock you out of victory if you’ve missed earlier steps. The game spans three days with a soft time limit, and certain actions must happen in sequence.
Save in multiple slots at the start of each day. Some puzzles have narrow windows, and you may need to replay sections.
Day three has a hard time limit. If you haven’t completed certain preparations by then, the game becomes unwinnable. Keep a save from early day three.
The Horror
Without spoiling specifics: Anchorhead earns its horror through patience. The Lovecraft influence is obvious but not derivative. Gentry understands that cosmic horror isn’t about tentacles — it’s about the slow realization that human concerns are irrelevant to forces that predate and will outlast us.
- Cosmic Horror
- A genre emphasizing humanity's insignificance against vast, incomprehensible forces. Terror comes from knowledge, not violence.
The body horror, when it comes, is effective precisely because the game has spent hours establishing normalcy. You’ve made tea. You’ve browsed a bookshop. You’ve had awkward conversations with your husband about the move. When the wrongness finally manifests physically, it violates a world you’ve come to inhabit.
The Verlac family line has been breeding with something inhuman for generations. Your husband Michael is part of this bloodline — and by the end, you’ll discover the ritual that’s been centuries in the making. The baby isn’t what it seems.
Playing Today
The 2018 commercial release on Steam and itch.io includes quality-of-life improvements and expanded content, but the original 1998 version remains freely available and perfectly playable. Either version rewards patience and attention.
| Version | Price | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| Original (1998) | Free | Available on IFDB, requires interpreter |
| Commercial (2018) | $9.99 | Steam/itch.io, built-in hints, expanded content |
Modern players may find the parser interface initially frustrating, but Anchorhead is more forgiving than many games of its era. The verb set is reasonable, synonyms are handled well, and the game rarely requires guess-the-noun precision.
Here’s a typical interaction that shows the parser at its best:
examine desk
The desk is old and worn, its surface covered with scattered papers and a fine layer of dust. One drawer hangs slightly open.
search drawer
Pushing aside old receipts and broken pencils, you find a tarnished brass key.
take key
Taken.
[Your score has increased by 5 points.]
Gentry released the source code for the original version, making Anchorhead a valuable learning resource for aspiring IF authors working in Inform 6.
The Verdict
Anchorhead isn’t just a great horror game — it’s a great game, period. Twenty-five years later, its fog still creeps under the door. The town still watches. And somewhere in the Verlac mansion, something is waiting.
Play it with the lights on. Or don’t. The darkness knows you’re there either way.
The 2018 commercial release adds approximately 25% more content, including expanded endings and additional locations in the town.
The Verdict
Lovecraftian horror done right — a masterclass in atmosphere and slow-burning dread.
Play this game