Developer: Vincent Adinolfi
Publisher: DreadXP
Platform: PC / Steam

Something in this house remembers you...or maybe just what you’ve lost.

I played Heartworm a few days ago late at night after a long shift at work, which is precisely how you’re supposed to play games like this: alone, in the dark, and with the kind of tiredness that makes everything feel a little unreal.

The world outside quiets down; the sky darkens, and the shadows in the hallway grow taller. It’s just you, the glow of the monitor, and a lingering sense that you might not be alone.

If you grew up in the ‘90s, the style will feel like a sweatshirt you forgot you owned. Polygonal models, jagged and awkward, like origami folded by unsteady hands. Tank controls, which most players today treat the way my friends treated rollerblades: with nostalgia and a rueful laugh.

But here, it works. The awkwardness is part of the charm, if “charm” is the right word for a haunted discomfort that creeps in under your skin and doesn’t leave.

The Wounds We Can’t See

The story starts simple, or at least it seems to. Sam, our protagonist, has wounds you can’t see. She lost someone. But who? The game is stingy with the details—it trusts you to fill in the blanks, which I respect.

Some of the most powerful stories are told in the silences between words. Sam is drawn to a mysterious house, and from there the world becomes porous, reality giving way to a place that feels not entirely dead, but not alive either.

There’s a dictionary definition of “survival horror,” and then there’s Heartworm. Yes, there are locked doors and scarce bullets. Yes, you’ll backtrack, jaw set, heart thumping.

The camera feels both like a relic and a lifeline, doubling as your weapon—a brilliant mechanic that turns snapshots into salvation or defense, making every shot count, literally.

Inventory is tight, so you make hard choices: Is this healing supply worth the detour? Is it safer to creep past that thing in the hall, or face it head-on?

The developer does something more than just lean on nostalgia; he taps into the feeling I had when I was little, waking in the night and not quite knowing, for a moment, who I was or where I was. The game doesn’t jump out at you; rather, it leans in and whispers things you’d rather not hear.

Alone with the Silence

For all the monsters, the most frightening thing in the game is loneliness. It’s there in the empty rooms, the way footsteps echo, the knowledge that every time you stumble into a new area, there may be something waiting—or nothing at all.

I found myself remembering my own lost friends, the ones I wish I could talk to again over an old landline. Games can’t bring them back, of course, but Heartworm understands the urge to try.

There are clever puzzles. There’s a camera that doubles as a weapon, like Fatal Frame, but with its flavor. I liked how even small victories, like solving a lock or finding a medkit, felt huge. Save points are mercy, never luxury. When Sam gasps and steadies herself, I do too.

The graphics are deliberately gritty and hide just enough to let your imagination do the rest. Sometimes, not seeing clearly is the scariest thing of all. There are a few jump scares, but the real fear arrives quietly at the base of your neck. At one point, the light flickered on my iPhone, and I paused, hands still sweaty, not from the phone itself, but from the game.

What Remains After the Credits

I won’t spoil the ending, I’ll just say that when the different endings rolled, I sat with it for a while. Some games are fun. Some games are art. This one is a memory you didn’t know you had. Heartworm is a love letter to the old ways of 16-bit horror, unresolved pain, and the part of you that hopes the next door you open will have a light on.

It’s not perfect, however. The controls can be clunky, and I wish the map made a little more sense. But isn’t that how haunted houses are? Just enough off-kilter to feel real and unreal at the same time.

So, if you want a good scare and something a little more profound—a feeling that follows you after you’ve turned the PC off—Heartworm is worth your while. Play it alone, in the dark, or play it on a rainy night. And afterwards, call someone you miss.