Haunt Grid House

The auxiliary gym rents for October. Rick's ten thousand dollars opened the doors. Everything after that is your problem. HAUNT GRID HOUSE is a haunted-house tycoon that fits in one month: thirteen tiles, thirty-one nights, and a ledger that does not forgive. Lay out the walk, staff it, stock it, and get the town through the door before the money — or the month — runs out. THE ANATOMY OF FRIGHT Twenty-nine rooms, each drawn as a plate from a shop-class anatomy folio nobody will admit to printing. Common to foil. Every room you discover goes in the binder, and the binder holds twenty-nine. THE COMPANY Twelve performers on the books. Each one raises the house; each one has terms. Dolores Vane doubles a room's dread and zeroes its startle — she does not move, that is the act. The Kessler Sisters will not be split up. Every portrait has one wrong detail. The game never says which. THE NIGHT Open the doors and watch it run, tile by tile: who tightened up, who walked out, which room ran dry, and what the fire marshal thought of your strobe boxes. Then settle the books and do it again tomorrow. THE SHIFT Between groups, the crew has a night of its own — thirty-three shift cards, drawn one a night and kept in the log. Somebody brought pizza to B2. Nobody knows who paid. THE MARKET Kalb Bros. Theatrical & Novelty, mail order only. Eight commodities, priced nightly, burned nightly. Orders arrive by morning. The invoice is dated next Tuesday. UNCLE RICK Five percent a night. On the 13th he names a number; on the 21st it is due. He is not asking, and when you pay him off — and you might — he will not say thank you. FILE NUMBERS Every ending card prints the file number of your month. Type one into the office and replay that exact October — same prices, same nights the marshal walks — or hand the number to a friend and see what they leave with. ALSO IN THE HOUSE • Game Center: the October Net Worth leaderboard and sixteen achievements • Fully offline. No ads, no accounts, no analytics — the house keeps plenty of secrets, and none of them are yours • Pay once, play the whole month. No subscriptions, ever Doors at seven. Four dollars. Bring the church kids.