6741 — The World

Surface Texture Direction

Everything is 128–256px, point-filtered, packed into a handful of trim sheets and atlases. No surface is clean. Tiling is allowed to show — the repetition reads as an unreal, remembered place.

Material Library — drop these onto the modular kit

Wallpaper · faded floral

Wood floor · warped

Plaster ceiling · cracked

Bathroom tile · grouted

Door · stained pine

Mold / water damage

Blood / dried stain

Rusted metal · pitted

Wood grain · trim sheet

Window glass · grimed

Kitchen lino · peeling

Dust / dirt overlay

Production Rules

One atlas per room theme. Wall, floor, ceiling, trim, door packed together.
Trim sheets for edges — skirting, door frames, pipes — to fake geometry detail.
Grime as a second multiply layer so a clean tile + dirt overlay = many variants for free.
Bake AO and shading into the texture. The world reads lit even with no lights on.

Dirt Vocabulary

Five decal types, reused everywhere: water stain (ceiling bloom), blood (low, dragged), scratch (claw triples on doors), mold (corners, damp green-grey), dust (a soft grey wash on every up-facing surface). Placed by hand at scare nodes, scattered by a decal system elsewhere.

Blood, Gore & Darker Themes

This is a horror game first. Blood is a system, not set dressing — it escalates, it spreads, and it remembers. Kept low-res and dim, gore reads as dread rather than splatter.

01 · old stain · brown-black

02 · fresh spatter

03 · dragged smear + pool

04 · the walls weep

The blood system — escalation

Old stains are everywhere from the start — the house has a history.
Fresh blood appears where violence just happened: a downed teammate, a zombie hit.
The nailed bat draws a trail — wounding the zombie makes it bleed, and that trail can be followed, by it or by you.
At high fear / near 6741, surfaces weep: walls bead, run, and pool. The house itself is bleeding.
Downed players leave a spreading pool; revive is wet and bloody, never clean.

Darker themes — handle with restraint

6741 is built on grief and a death this house never moved past — the bedroom wall counts crossed-out marks up to 6741. We imply, we don’t exhibit: bodies stay in silhouette and shadow, gore stays low-poly and dim. PS1 restraint makes it worse — and better. A wrong friend and a remembered child carry more than splatter ever could.

Mature content. Blood, body horror, implied child-death, paranoia. Ship a content warning on entry and lock the rating question before launch (see Design Review §9).

House / Room Direction

Seven rooms. Each gets one memorable prop and one colour of light so players build a mental map in the dark. Readability is a horror feature, not a compromise.

ENV // ENTRY

Entry

Tutorial calm · the only “safe-feeling” wrong room

Mood: Still, expectant. You woke here. The door behind you is already gone.
Colours: Cold moon-blue from a frosted sidelight; deep shadow.
Key prop: A coat rack with one too many coats. A mirror that’s a beat slow.
Horror beat: Your own footprints in the dust lead in, never out.

ENV // LIVING

Living Room

Hub · sightlines · the TV

Mood: A family room with the family scraped out. Long sightlines for dread.
Colours: Warm dead-amber from a lamp that shouldn’t still work.
Key prop: A CRT TV showing static — and, rarely, the room you’re standing in.
Horror beat: The armchair faces a different way each time you look back.

ENV // KITCHEN

Kitchen

Noise risk · the loud key door is here

Mood: Greasy, tight, full of edges. Where the worst smells live.
Colours: Sickly fluorescent green-white, flickering.
Key prop: A humming fridge. Opening it is loud — and sometimes wet.
Horror beat: The fluorescent tube buzz is the detection radius made audible.

ENV // BATH

Bathroom

Claustrophobia · mirror tells

Mood: The smallest, hardest room. A trap with a door.
Colours: Cold tile-white going green at the grout; one bare bulb.
Key prop: A mirror over the sink — the single best place to stage a skinwalker tell.
Horror beat: The mirror sometimes shows the doorway behind you occupied.

ENV // BED

Bedroom

Memory · the heart of 6741

Mood: Intimate and violated. Where the house’s grief is loudest.
Colours: Bruise-violet dread wash; cold moon through thin curtains.
Key prop: A child’s bed, made. A wall of crossed-out marks counting to 6741.
Horror beat: The closet door is open by exactly the amount it wasn’t.

ENV // STORAGE

Storage Room

Risk · maze-within-maze · Key B

Mood: Black, packed, blind corners. The most dangerous room to be split up in.
Colours: Almost no light — rust-brown only where the torch lands.
Key prop: Stacked boxes that form shifting corridors; the throwing-star scrap lives here.
Horror beat: A breathing sound that isn’t a teammate and isn’t the zombie.

ENV // SAFE

Safe Room

Sanctuary · fear drops · the only warmth

Mood: The one place that feels held. Leaving it must always cost something.
Colours: Soft amber lantern; warmer wood; less grain, less fog.
Key prop: A lantern and a battered couch. A low, steady, comforting hum.
Horror beat: Sometimes the hum stops for one second — and you notice it was never normal.

05·b

Grounds, Sky & Sun

What the player sees through every window and at the locked exit: the house does not sit anywhere real. It floats in a starless, sunless night ringed by a treeline that never gets closer.

SKY // NIGHT

The Sky

LIGHT // MOON

The Moon

ENV // TREELINE

The Trees

Sky & Sun

Time: Permanent deep night. There is no sun in 6741 — dawn never comes, and that absence is the point.
Sky: A flat, low-detail gradient dome: violet-black at the horizon to true black at the zenith. A handful of dim, fixed stars that don’t twinkle. No clouds, or one unmoving smear.
Moon: A single oversized, sickly moon — too big, too low, slightly the wrong colour (cold blue-white). It is the only natural light and it never moves. It is the source of every cold window-leak indoors.
Wrongness: Rarely, the moon is briefly gone, or there are two. Never commented on.

Grounds & Treeline

Yard: A thin strip of dead grass and cracked path around the house, then fog. Low-poly, near-black, read only in silhouette.
Trees: A ring of bare, black low-poly trees — flat billboard cards in the far band, a few real meshes near the house. Branches like hands. They form a wall: the world ends at the treeline.
Fog wall: Heavy depth fog at the property edge so there is no visible “outside.” Walking toward the trees never closes the distance — the exit is the only way out.
Exit: The locked door opens onto a single foggy path into the trees. Escaping = walking into the dark and the frame cutting to black + tape stop.
Sound: Distant wind with no leaves to move it. Occasional far branch-snap. No birds, no insects — a dead, sealed night.

READABILITY / The exterior is intentionally featureless and dark so windows read as cold blue rectangles and the exit reads as the single brightest break in the treeline. Players orient by the moon’s fixed position — it is the game’s only compass.