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Homo Umbra is a futuristic survival horror set after the collapse of civilization. The game has two goals: survive and, if you are infected by the Homo Umbra, kill.

There are thirty-three survivors left in the bunker and twenty-seven of them are infected. Those infected with the Homo Umbra show no symptoms, except perhaps slightly darker shadows than usual. The Homo Umbra are shadow beings linked intimately with their hosts and able to communicate only with them. Through gradual, subtle suggestion they eventually drive their hosts to murder. How long the host resists, or whether they resist at all, varies.

Players may have any number of characters but may only have two at a time. Characters must be disposed of and made unplayable, whether by going mad, being injured, dying, etc, it doesn't matter. Only a total of 33 characters may exist, ever, and at least one of these must be the Overseer. This is a no-limits game. Kill as gorily as you please. Incite revolution among the bunker. Take the Overseer's position. Poison the water. Do anything. But remember you'll have to suffer the consequences and, as all characters are of equal strength (the only exceptions being ill characters, or characters who give up intelligence for strength) the opinions of others and your own cleverness are all that keeps you alive.

Emily Thomas

The medical bay’s fluorescent lights had a nasty little habit of flickering just enough to drive most patients mad, but not enough to really interfere with most medical work. It was a fluke, a glitch in the power system, though not necessarily a bad one. A little power was diverted from the lights and into the medical equipment instead of from the power grid, meaning…nothing at all, really. But it gave the eerie impression that the medical equipment could fail at any moment.

Emilia Lee Thomas, of course, never worried about such things. She had asked a nurse once as a child, when she’d first come to the medical center, but the answer had been clear and satisfactory. She felt no need to continue asking as the other patients did.

Though, she had to admit as she lifted a silvery-blonde hair strand from her sketchbook, it got rather annoying when one had work to do.

And indeed she did. She glanced over the paper at the older man in the bed across from her, his face contorted in silent pain and his body arched and stiff. Tetanus. She’d noticed an increase in cases in the last week, it had resulted in quite a few names crossed off in her list of names. Thirty-three refugees left. She felt the words appear in her mind, unbidden, and whispered them as they appeared.

All considered, they were actually doing pretty well: eleven years spent in a bunker that had been rushed and half-made. They’d only lost sixty-seven, and most of that had been to uncontrollable factors, like the illness that had taken her mother.

Emilia closed her sketchbook as the man was pushed away on his medical bed, his heart monitor wailing in monotone. She glanced over to the bed next to her, where a somewhat attractive man was sleeping. She leaned over, a dangerous act for someone like herself, and gently brushed his hair from his eyes before being scolded. The nurses had noticed her little crush, though her sister was still oblivious.

Rose Thomas

Oblivious was certainly an apt description of Rose Thomas. Focused entirely on the subject of her microscope’s eye, she hadn’t even noticed her watch begin to beep.

“Homo umbra”, she whispered. Their existence had stumped the entire scientific team, something Rose was only too happy for: it gave her a chance to unlock the mystery of it’s existence and finally prove her worth to the others. They, of course, thought they were more valuable for having gone to universities and earned degrees. That was all well and fine but there were no universities any longer and she felt she had worked long enough as their damned assistant to be treated as a peer.

She gave a soft growl and snatched the sample out from under the microscope’s eye, a little too roughly. It was then she finally heard the persistent beep beep beep beep beep of her watch.

“s**t!”

The lab was empty, of course, it was half past nine, half past ******** nine! All the lights but the one above her had been dimmed or shut off completely, the other assistants and scientists long since packed their bags. She’d missed dinner by three hours! Rose snatched up her lumpy duffel bag, swung it over her shoulder and bolted out of the laboratory a little unbalanced by the weight. Her stomach was growling something fierce now, even though she hadn’t felt the smallest tinge of hunger since lunch.

She pushed past the double doors and into the Cafeteria, where a few unlucky insomniacs were chatting and poking at their synthetic snacks. It wasn’t her first time arriving to dinner late, although this was her record, and she reminded herself to thank the poor bastards for keeping the food service open. If it weren’t for them, she’d be going to bed hungry most nights.

Rose set her duffel bag down just a little too roughly on one of the tables, and jogged towards the empty counter. There were only three choices, of course, all automated, though the “cooks” as they liked to call themselves--they were more technicians than cooks--enjoyed changing the names to try and fool some of the more hopeful types. Sadly, it worked a little too often.

Placebo effect. Tell someone anything and there’s a good chance they’ll believe you and make it happen.

Not fooled herself, Rose deliberated a moment before pressing the button for mashed potatoes and corn. A moment later, the usual TV-dinner style package popped out, unlabeled, and she returned to her table. Tearing the thin lid open, she peeked inside. Damn. It’s original designation had been “Inspired By Cabbage”, as if that were to make it seem somehow lovely, and it had been her least favorite meal all of her eleven years here.

Slurping down the slightly gooey green substance, Rose glanced at her duffel bag and wondered if she should change out of her lab shift. She never had any real desire to dress in anything else, but it tended to get either eyes rolling and heads shaking. Of course she understood their reasons for finding her to be, quite frankly, a joke, but with the population steadily being reduced to those between eighteen and fourty or so, they’d have to get used to it.

She glanced towards the east door and the MEDICAL BAY sign above it, briefly considering visiting her sister. Going into the medical rooms was risky, of course, you never knew what sort of diseases were floating around. Besides, she reasoned, she seems upset with me. Better let her get over whatever it is. She nodded, pleased with her reasoning on the matter as if there had ever been any real desire to go through that door to begin with, and slurped down the rest of her “mashed potatoes and corn”.

Emily Thomas

Emily Thomas had long since drifted off watching the man with tetanus. When the nurse began to speak to her, she jumped--well, as best as one could jump when lying weak in bed--and looked up with wide, gaunt eyes.

"So...kiddo what you in for?"

Now, Emily was a friendly and amiable young woman. She had to be, of course, growing up grumpy and sour-faced in a bed would do her no good. But she had only so much patience to spare, and even less entertainment, so when the nurse had the bright idea of blocking her access to that entertainment Emily's friendliness faded quickly. She didn't smile at the woman like she usually would. And when the woman tsk-tsk'ed her, it turned into a frown.

"Cancer. Could you open the drapes again?" Emily made a hand motion, leaning over to try to get a better look at the locked body.

Of course, she didn't really have cancer. Even her father had not been able to determine what illness she suffered from. Ignorance could drive her father mad, but Emily had no interest in knowing. Whatever it was called didn't change the effect it had on her. Her sister and father had inquisitive minds, she and her mother did not. More than a few feuds had gone on in the family over it.

Emily Thomas

“…Brownie?” Emily leaned forward a little, eyes wide. She hadn’t eaten anything but manufactured mush since she was a child. Since before she’d even come to the compound. “Where did you…?” And then she smelled it. She snatched it and stuffed it in her mouth, closing her eyes to savor the taste, before continuing. “Where,” she said, chewing, “on Earth did you get this?”

The ill girl took the time to lick her fingers clean of the satisfyingly sweet stuff left on her fingertips, taking a deep breath of happiness. Her family hadn’t visited her in she didn’t even know how many months, and she had begun to get depressed. This was a nice, unexpected treat for the girl. She finished licking her fingers and looked up at the woman, her grumpiness instantly disappearing in place of her old friendliness.

“Well, not cancer, no. But that’s the best guess daddy’s been able to come up with. Doctor Thomas, do you know him?” she asked curiously. The nurse must have been new for Emily to have never seen her. Maybe this was her first day? Emily scrunched up her face, her brows pressing tightly together, trying to remember if she had seen the nurse years ago when she had been well. Or at least, not showing symptoms. The nurse looked around her age, so she would have been a pre-teen then. But then again, at that age she hadn’t so much as looked at the other girls. The boys had been the only thing on her mind. Hell, that was mostly the only thing on her mind even now. She licked her lips, eyeing the woman’s plate. Wherever the sweet treat had come from, the woman was likely to have a good supply of it if she was willing to give it out so easily. Best to be as polite as possible, even if girls did bore her. Anything to eat something new. “Is this your first day?”