Full game metadata
| Field | Value |
|---|---|
| Steam app type | game |
| Steam App ID | 3033890 |
| Live current players | 0 |
| SteamPulse tracked peak | 0 |
| Live count (today's peak floor) | 0 |
| Price | No longer available on Steam Store |
| Free to play | No current Steam offer |
| Discount | Not available |
| Original price USD | Not available |
| Current price USD | Not available |
| Release date | Coming soon |
| Developer | Indie Terminate Forms |
| Publisher | Indie Terminate Forms |
| Owners estimated | Not available |
| SteamSpy owner estimate minimum | Not available |
| SteamSpy owner estimate maximum | Not available |
| Review type | No user reviews |
| Positive review percent | Not available |
| Positive reviews | 0 |
| Negative reviews | 0 |
| Total reviews | 0 |
| Steam recommendations | Not available |
| Achievements | Not available |
| Average playtime forever | Not available |
| Windows support | Yes |
| macOS support | No |
| Linux support | No |
| Parent game | Not available |
| Store URL | Not available on Steam Store |
Short description
You wake up in a locked room with no memory and a typewriter that types on its own. It asks you to play a game. Build words into sentences, fight back against the voice in the machine, and survive long enough to learn why you're here. Some answers are worse than the questions.
About this game
You don't remember how you got here. The room is cold. The walls are damp. A single lamp flickers on a desk where a typewriter sits waiting. You don't touch it. It doesn't matter. The keys start moving on their own. It has a question for you. "Do you want to play a game?" Welcome to The Quiet Room — a psychological horror deckbuilder where your words are your only weapon and the room itself is your health bar. The typewriter deals you cards. Not playing cards — words. Simple ones at first. "I." "The." "Was." Building blocks that mean nothing on their own. Your job is to arrange them into sentences, type them onto the page, and push back against whatever is on the other side of that machine. But it pushes back harder. The entity in the typewriter plays its own cards against you. Doubt. Criticism. Erasure. It will negate your words, erase your sentences, skip your turns, and tell you that everything you've written is worthless. The better your sentences, the more damage you deal. The worse they are, the more the room punishes you. And the room does punish you. At full strength, the room is stable. The lights work. The walls hold. But as you falter, things change. Wallpaper peels. Blood appears on the floor. The furniture breaks. Figures in the hallway move closer. The flickering gets worse. The mannequins — you're sure they weren't there before — are inside now. And something behind the bars at the end of the corridor is no longer content to watch. Fail to form a coherent sentence and the consequences are violent. Do it twice and they're final. Each run is a writing session. A night in the room. Survive enough nights, complete enough pages, and you might finish the book. You might escape. You might learn the truth about where you are, what the typewriter wants, and why it chose you. The room holds its secrets in every detail. The cipher notes in the desk. The scattered manuscripts. The record player that plays melodies you almost recognize. The alarm clock that shouldn't be ticking. Every object means something. Every sound is a clue or a warning. Between sessions, fragments stay with you. New words. New insights. Subtle changes in the room that were…
Supported languages
English * * languages with full audio support