MOUSE and WASD for playing.
The Backrooms is pure psychological horror disguised as an empty, endless maze. The second you step in, something feels wrong—too quiet, too sterile, like reality itself got corrupted. The walls are the same sickly yellow everywhere, buzzing lights hum overhead, and the damp carpet squelches underfoot. There’s no explanation, no tutorial, and no clear way out. You just wander, hoping that maybe, somehow, you’ll find an exit before something finds you first.
Everything looks identical at first, but after a while, small details start messing with your head. Doors vanish when you turn around, the hallways stretch longer than they should, and sometimes, just barely, you hear something. A distant shuffle. A breath that isn’t yours. Maybe it’s paranoia. Or maybe there’s actually something lurking in these walls, waiting for you to make a mistake. The worst part? You don’t know for sure—until it’s too late.
As you move deeper, the environment starts changing in ways you can’t explain. Some corridors feel off, like they weren’t there before. Others seem like they lead somewhere, but then suddenly twist back into the same repeating nightmare. Lights flicker at the wrong moments, shadows stretch unnaturally, and the more you explore, the more it feels like the place is shifting around you. The Backrooms doesn’t just trap you—it plays with you.
There’s no map, no checkpoints, no sense of direction. It’s just you and the void, with nothing but your own instincts to rely on. Stay too long in one spot, and you might start hearing whispers. Ignore them, and they get closer. Keep moving, but not too fast—you never know what’s waiting around the next corner. Finding an exit is possible… probably. But the more you search, the more you start to wonder if the real horror isn’t what’s hiding here, but the fact that you may have already been here before—and just forgot.