ZHMURKI

About the Game

Remember playing blind man's buff out in the yard?

One kid gets the blindfold, everybody else scatters screaming, and from there it all comes down to your ears, your nerve, and your ability to keep your mouth shut. All of that, except now you don't have to wait for summer and round everyone up outside. A free evening and a crowd of up to eight will do.

WHOEVER IS IT GETS THE DARK

A couple of metres of vague shapes in front of you, and past that, nothing at all. So you listen. Someone is stomping. Someone couldn't hold it in and giggled into the mic. Someone panicked and clattered into something on the way past. The closer they get, the louder they get, and there you are, creeping toward the sound, and the sound, the little menace, keeps moving. You hear your friends for real: a whisper behind a wall comes from behind that wall, and hysterical laughing in the far corner comes from the far corner. Almost nobody can stay quiet, by the way. That is usually where the whole thing falls apart.

HIDING IS AN ART OF ITS OWN

You can freeze in a corner and hold your breath. You can tear around the map until whoever is It loses patience. Or you can pick up something heavy and hurl it at them: while they are getting their bearings, you are already long gone. Some of the things lying around actually work, by the way. The drums, for instance. The guitar. Whether to put on a concert while people are hunting you by ear is a philosophical question, but somebody always tries.

YOUR GAME, YOUR LAWS

The rules are yours to set, exactly like out in the yard. Want whoever is It to barely hobble along and see no further than their own outstretched hand? Then every rustle is a death sentence. Want them tearing around like a lunatic? Then it all turns into yelling, running and glorious chaos. You can change the game itself too: so that everyone caught joins the side of It and by the end a whole mob is after the last survivor, or so that every single one of you is in the dark at once.

MY BEST FRIENDS!!

It plays best with old friends. The ones who will scream into the mic, pin the blame on each other, and swear that "he was standing right there a second ago".