Emily Wants to Play Too is a first-person indie horror experience developed by Shawn Hitchcock and published by Hitchcock Games that expands on the tense, rule-driven terror of its predecessor with a broader setting, a larger cast of antagonists, and more complex survival demands. What begins as a mundane late-night delivery job quickly spirals into a nightmarish ordeal, trapping the player inside a sprawling, dimly lit evidence processing facility where supernatural entities enforce their own twisted “games.” The sequel takes the core philosophy of the original—fear through vulnerability and learning enemy behavior—and scales it up into a longer, more demanding experience.
Rather than relying on weapons or combat, the game’s design centers on avoidance, awareness, and strict adherence to enemy-specific rules. Each hostile entity operates according to a unique logic, and survival depends on recognizing these patterns and reacting correctly under pressure. Some enemies require the player to remain completely still, others punish hiding, while certain threats respond to sound, light, or eye contact. The game rarely explains these mechanics directly, encouraging players to learn through observation, failure, and gradual mastery. This approach transforms fear into a cognitive challenge, where panic must be tempered by memory and discipline.
The setting plays a crucial role in elevating the tension. Moving beyond the single suburban house of the first game, Emily Wants to Play Too places players in a multi-room, multi-floor facility filled with offices, storage rooms, corridors, and locked areas. This expanded environment creates a stronger sense of disorientation and vulnerability, as safe spaces are harder to identify and escape routes are rarely straightforward. Navigation becomes part of the challenge, especially as enemies begin to overlap in their appearances, forcing players to juggle multiple survival rules simultaneously while traversing dark, unfamiliar spaces.
Enemy variety is one of the sequel’s most notable strengths. Returning antagonists from the original game are joined by new figures, each introducing distinct mechanics that shift how the player must behave. Some enemies stalk slowly but relentlessly, others appear suddenly and demand immediate reaction, and later threats combine sensory cues such as sound and sight to hunt the player more intelligently. The escalating roster ensures that the game never settles into a single rhythm, instead constantly forcing players to adapt as the night progresses and new dangers are introduced hour by hour.
Pacing is structured around the passage of time, with each in-game hour increasing both the difficulty and the complexity of encounters. Early sections focus on learning individual enemy behaviors, while later stages layer multiple threats together, creating moments of intense pressure where a single mistake can be fatal. This gradual escalation gives the game a strong arc, making survival feel earned and reinforcing the sense that the player is barely holding things together as dawn approaches. The absence of traditional checkpoints heightens this tension, as failure often means replaying significant portions of the night.
Atmosphere is driven largely by sound and lighting rather than elaborate visuals. Dim corridors, flickering lights, and sparse environmental detail leave much to the imagination, while audio cues—footsteps, breathing, sudden silences, and abrupt musical stings—serve as critical sources of information. Sound is not just for scares; it is a gameplay tool, often providing the only warning that a particular enemy is nearby. Playing with headphones dramatically enhances immersion, as subtle directional cues can mean the difference between survival and a sudden game over.
Visually, the game adopts a functional, understated style that supports its mechanics rather than distracting from them. Character models are unsettling without being overly detailed, relying on unnatural movement and timing to evoke fear. The environments are repetitive by design, reinforcing the feeling of being trapped in an endless bureaucratic maze that offers no comfort or familiarity. While the production values are modest, the consistency of tone helps maintain immersion throughout the experience.
Narratively, Emily Wants to Play Too offers only fragments of story, conveyed through environmental hints and context rather than direct exposition. The focus remains firmly on the immediate experience of survival rather than deep lore or character development. This minimalism works in the game’s favor, keeping attention on moment-to-moment tension and allowing players to project their own interpretations onto the events unfolding around them. The lack of a heavily scripted narrative also reinforces the unpredictability that defines the game’s horror.
Overall, Emily Wants to Play Too succeeds as a thoughtful evolution of its predecessor, delivering a more ambitious and demanding survival horror experience without abandoning its core identity. Its reliance on rule-based enemies, heightened vulnerability, and environmental tension creates fear that lingers beyond simple jump scares. While its mechanics can feel punishing and its scope remains intentionally narrow, these qualities are part of what make it effective. For players who appreciate indie horror that rewards observation, patience, and mental resilience, Emily Wants to Play Too offers a nerve-wracking night of survival that stands as a strong example of how minimalist design can still deliver sustained, memorable terror.
Rating: 8/10
