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The screenshots look great!

Sounds interesting, but I have a question.
See, I have this idea that I've been toying with, but it doesn't exactly take place in the afterlife, but it's still about a post-mortem experience in a way.
My idea is about a character who is killed, have an out-of-body experience, walking around like a ghost for a while until they come back to life,
kind of like in the movie The Phantom Carriage...

Is this acceptable for the theme of the competition?

Wow, the last GIF looks exciting!

How very, very nice of you LimpingFish!

I'm interested in NecrovisioN (one of those games I always thought looked cool but never actually got around buying...).

Mighty Thanks!

[Baron]

Character: I vote Baron for Jossie, such a strong-minded and capable hero.

Plot: I vote Baron for an exciting story of rescue and survival.

Atmosphere: I vote Baron for capturing a harrowing night in a forest surrounded by ravenous predators.

Background world: I vote Baron for an interesting and scary world.

Word Choice/style: I vote Baron for using wording that really helped me get into the mood and mindset of the characters.

Spookiness:I vote Baron for such a terrifying mist with even more terrifying effects on the wildlife.

This morning I had a dream that I'd overslept,

Yeah, I hate those... that's one of those recurring dreams I have. Probably has to do with my fear of being late... even a single little minute late gets me anxious.

I also have recurring nightmares about being late, usually it's that I always forget something halfway and must go back and get it, then I discover that I have forgotten something else and must go back again, and it repeats itself again and again. Frustrating to say the least...

Weird thing is, that despite growing up with crooked teeth and spending several years with braces and visits to the dentist, I can't recall having any dreams where my teeth fall out. I remember reading that dreaming about it means being afraid of losing something, but it can also have to do with the brain subconsciously bringing up memories of losing one's baby teeth.

Great to see more entries!

First: Twirly
Second: Hobo
Third: Gurok

Thank you for your kind words all of you, it's great to se people interested in my game!
I haven't come very far yet, but I'm working on the graphics, as well as animations for the characters.
So far, a new animation of the commissar being woken up by something:

[Sniper and Spotter serving the motherland]

I'm working on a new game, titled Sniper and Spotter serving the motherland!
This game is a sequel to my previous game,Sniper and Spotter being Patriotic, but it is a standalone story and my intention is that players shall be able to understand the story even if they haven't played the previous game.

The plot is rather straightforward.
The great patriotic war is raging and Olga, a sniper loyal to the motherland, and Ivan, her trusted spotter, have received an order to use the scorched earth tactic on a small soviet village before it falls into the hands of the axis. Their mission will be to destroy all resources and burn the village before the enemy gets a chance to destroy all resources and burn the village...

Gameplay-wise, this game will focus on exploring the village and sabotaging and destroying various parts of it while the battle between the Axis forces and the Red Army draws closer.
28 Oct 2016, 20:12 Screenshots so far:

Love the visuals, and it's fun to see character with an asymmetric style.

Big congratulations, great to see this game get a Steam release!
Best of luck to you!

Littering is terrible, I've never understood people who just throw away their garbage out in the open.
Cigarette smokers are the worst offenders, at least discarded candy wrappers never started a forest fire,
but chewing gum is pretty gross too. I just hate people who leave stains of gum on the street or smeared
under school benches. I mean, if there really aren't any nearby trashcans, just swallow the stupid gum.
Accidentally getting gum on my shoes makes me wish the 700$ fine they have in Singapore could be applied worldwide!

When I first heard Bob Dylan would get the Nobel prize, I thought it was a joke. I can understand why many people would want to award him, but the Nobel prize in literature?
It would be like giving an Oscar to a video game developer...

And as someone told me, Dylan have already received the Polar music prize, while the Nobel prize in literature is the probably and most greatest award a writer can get, and if they start handing it out to songwriters and any other artists whose works have words in them, they take the prize away from writers and authors.

The aesthetics are nice, but the scale seems a little off when you compare the character to the background, the furniture looks huge.

Otherwise, a group of young friends trapped in a haunted house may not be a very original premise, but having the heroine confront demons from her past sounds like an intriguing twist.

Wish you luck with you project!

Nice! Lovely colors in the city, it feels a bit surreal!

I like the lightning, but I still think the overall problem is that the wall textures look to grainy...

Nice to hear, it's no fun fun in being the only competitor.
Still, it will be fun to hear your opinions on my story!

Now that's what I call overkill!

[A light in the marsh]

I had an idea and saw the deadline was today, so I here is my short story:

A light in the marsh
I would never have taken the shortcut across the marsh if I had known what happened there, but at the time I was ignorant of what lied beneath the moss.

The skies were dark that day, cloaking the sun in a thick veil of grey clouds and the land in a cold bleak fog, rendering even the late afternoon as dark as twilight. But as the fog was thick yet pale and washed out like milk poured into water, the wind was cold and sharp, piercing even my thick wadmal coat as I walked the lonely road to my uncles village. I had walked this road before, with my father, but now I was alone.

It is a curious thing, the nature of a place, how inviting and beautiful it can be in the golden sunlight pouring through the emerald leaves of healthy living trees, and how treacherous and haunting it becomes once autumn strips the trees of their leaves leaving only bare husks clawing at a darkened sky. The road was long, curving around a large marsh before leading to the village, but I remembered having seen the lonely church tower rising above the treetops across the marsh when I walked there with my father. But now there was fog, thick and shrouding. When I stared across the open marsh I saw no trees or church tower, only coarse high grass stretching out seemingly without end.

I stood still, pondering whether I dared risk taking the shorter path through the marsh or not when I saw it. A faint light soaring above the grass out there, drawing me closer. I could make out a silhouette in the fog, a young woman holding a lantern. Confident in seeing someone else out here I began walking towards her. The young woman wore a long and beige dress with a thick scarf draped over her shoulders and as I came closer I saw her face. It was a plain, yet agreeable face if it had not been for the web of blue veins hinted under her pale skin. Still, she had an air of calmness around her and I was certain that she was just as damp and cold as I, and that she if any could lead me across the marsh.

She looked at me, and I asked “Are you from the village?”. She nodded and gave a soft hum. With a gesture she told that she wanted me to follow her, and I followed, in a direction that seemed to lead towards the village. I studied her as she walked in front of me, her ash-blond hair in a loose bun with streaks of loose hair hanging down along her neck and parts of wet moss clinging to the damp stains at the bottom of her dress. Then I remembered myself, and tried to start talking to her, but my throat felt already sore from the cold air and harsh wind. I asked her name. “Clara” she said, in a calm clear voice. “Do you live here?” I asked. Another soft hum. “I do.” she said casting a quick glance backwards. “Follow me and I will take you.” I did, but I noticed that I had already fallen behind.

As we walked a lingering unease had begun to grow in me, and the further we went the less I wanted to lose the sight of her lantern. While I curse that I didn't know it when I walked through the fog, part of me still thinks of my ignorance as a blessing. I didn't know why mothers warned their children away from this place, and I didn't ponder the depths of the dark pools of water between the high and coarse grass. My only concern then was Clara and trying to follow her footsteps without falling further behind.

She walked quickly across the marsh, leaving barely a sound moving across the grass and moss. I hurried after her and tried to keep up, afraid to lose her and be left alone in the dark cold fog. But even as I hurried my steps, I did not get closer to her, and I did my best to try and keep her within my sight. “Wait!” I tried to cry, but my throat was hurting. She was almost disappearing into the fog, but I could still clearly see the light of her lantern. With my eyes fixed on the light I hastened across the marsh with moss and branches cracking beneath my feet. It was a wet and uneven ground and I stepped into cold puddles a few times, but I dared not take my eyes away from her light.

Suddenly I felt sharp skeletal claws from below against my leg and my throat tore itself apart in a scream. I frantically kicked and stumbled when I saw the black veiny thing. It was already too late when I realized that it had merely been a tree branch which had caught my leg, Clara was already gone and I was lost and alone.

I cannot properly tell how I found my way out of the marsh, but it felt like an eternity until I at last saw the village, and wet and cold stumbled into the house of my uncle and his wife. I didn't try to hide that I had walked across the mash, and I doubt that they would have missed the damp smell and wet stains on my clothes if I had. I barely had the strength to remember that Clara was still out there with her lonely light fading away in the fog.

They scolded me for being so careless, walking  in such a pagan place in the late hour, warning me of how the dark and heavy moss could take hold of a man, drag him down into the marsh forever. Normally I would have defended myself, but I felt too tired, tired and cold and my legs felt weak. I was shivering, so with the help of my uncle I picked up a blanket and sat close to the fireplace huddled under the blanket, yet I could not stop shivering and I could not speak. I sat so very, very close to the fireplace with the blanket wrapped around me, but it wasn't until well after the sun had risen the next day that I was able to talk about the marsh. For you see, in her scolding the wife of my uncle had said that almost a year ago, Clara, the neighbors daughter, had drowned out there and was never to be found again.