Danger Close

Every sound you make is a bill, and the dead collect.

The dead hunt by sound. Not by sight, not by smell, not by script but by the noise you actually made. Every gunshot, every sprint, every wall you blow open is heard, priced, and answered. Quiet keeps you alive. Loud gets things done. DANGER CLOSE is the business of choosing which, on purpose, with something already moving in the dark.

Sound is the economy. The horde pathfinds to noise, never to "the player." A silenced approach is a plan; a shotgun is a plan with consequences.

Darkness is honest. You see what your light reveals and nothing else. Past the beam: shapes, motion, and audio you learn to trust. The torch helps you and advertises you;  it runs on batteries, and light draws the dead.

Prepared beats spongy. Zombies die fast and kill fast. Your power is in traps, chokepoints, breaching charges, a machine-gun nest you repaired, and the floor plan you chose to fight in.

The world remembers. Corpses stay where they dropped. Blown walls stay blown. Spent resources are spent. The horde you kited away did not despawn; it is still out there, and it heard that.

A 20-level campaign chain with a persistent stash, perks, and awareness that opens secrets the map never admits to. Three different win conditions. Six guns, thrown weapons, demolitions, crafting. A secret level with a machine on it. A stranger in a car boot who cannot die and will not explain himself. One genuinely excellent cup of tea.

Keyboard + mouse first-class. Full Xbox controller support; plug one in mid-game and it just takes over. Runs in your browser. Saves locally in your browser; no account, no analytics, no network calls, ever.

Vanilla JavaScript and Canvas 2D. No engine. Stylized gore.

A Blue Bedlam game, created & directed by Ryan Cardwell.