ATFB - THE LOST BETA 1.11

Ten years ago, I created a video game. A small indie project, unassuming, made with passion but forgotten almost as quickly as it was released. No success, no community, just a file tucked away in the corner of a hard drive.

Then, recently, while digging through my archives, I stumbled upon a pre-beta version of that game, "Pre-Beta 1," as I had named it at the time. Back then, Steam Greenlight was still around, and I’d even added a menu in the game where players could read my messages encouraging them to support me in hopes of a future vote. Out of curiosity, I launched it again, ready to revisit my youthful mistakes. But what I discovered… wasn’t my game anymore.

The save system was gone. The mechanics seemed to have evolved without me ever touching a single line of code. The game is graphically poor, with simple textures and a world that feels archaic. Yet, it’s fully playable—and that’s the problem. The further you progress, the more you sense something is wrong. Even the bugs feel intentional, designed to toy with your mind.

In The Witch’s Curse, the objective is simple: collect five ancient books to defeat the witch haunting this cursed world. But every book you collect triggers the arrival of a creature or entity. And they won’t stop hunting you.

Each of these entities has its own behavior. Some will appear in front of you, forcing you to react instantly. Others manifest in areas you’ve already explored, keeping you in a state of constant dread. And they never go away. Every book you add to your collection only increases the difficulty, making the game nearly unbearable.

Then there’s the witch. She’s not just a character or a final boss. She’s a constant presence, felt through distorted sounds, glitching visuals, and the oppressive feeling that the game itself is watching you.

I had a few people test the game. Every one of them experienced the same thing: an irresistible urge to keep playing, even as their unease grew. But after playing, strange things began happening in their lives. Unexplained noises. Disturbing dreams. Objects subtly out of place. And always, the unsettling feeling of being watched—even far from their screens.

This isn’t just a horror game. It’s not the mechanics or the story that terrifies you. It’s the idea that the game is alive. Its bugs don’t break the game—they break you.

So, if you ever come across this file, think carefully before opening it. Because if strange things start happening in your life, there’s only one way out: finish the game. Killing the witch will be your only cure.