Jokes:

1. Why don't skeletons like Halloween candy?

They don't have the stomach for it.

2. Why wouldn't the ghost dance at the party?

He had no body to dance with him.

---

In order of preference, I am in for:

1st: Day of the Tentacle Remastered

2nd: SOMA

Not In!

However as the cat enthusiast, I feel obliged to remind that once Halloween arrives, you have only 55 days until Christmas. This is important because failing to have something new to wear by Christmas means that Jólakötturinn gets to eat you.... or you can just avoid Iceland.

Spook jokes:

What do skeletons order at restaurants?
Spare ribs!

What do skeletons say around meal times?
Bone Appétit

Thank you for the giveaway, I'm in for:

- The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Complete Edition
- Tainted Grail: Conquest
- Gibbous - A Cthulhu Adventure Deluxe Edition
- Black Book
- SKALD: Against the Black Priory
- Day of the Tentacle Remastered
- The Suffering + The Suffering: Ties That Bind
- Blackwell Epiphany
- Creaks Collector's Edition
- DARQ: Complete Edition

Thank you for the generous giveaway, bjgamer.

I am in for, in order of preference:
- SKALD: Against the Black Priory
- Black Book

The following is a short excerpt from my first novel, very slightly edited to make it a bit more standalone.

===========================================================================================

So began the second tale, which was very different from the first; and it was the grey kitten's fault entirely. For it was the grey kitten that was lying curled up and fast asleep midway between Catherine's bed and the cottage door. And it was the grey kitten that Catherine's foot hit in the dark when she made her way to the outhouse in the middle of the night. And it was the grey kitten that decided to follow Catherine just up to the threshold and not beyond. And it was the grey kitten that led her to leave the cottage door open for the brief moment it took her to get to the outhouse, do what she had to do there, and return. And it was the grey kitten that she could not find anywhere when she came back. And it was the grey kitten that she had to look for all over the place. And it was the grey kitten that she finally found hiding in the peat-rick behind the cottage. And it was the grey kitten that pretended to be a ferocious lion, baring its teeth and slashing at Catherine's hand. And it was the grey kitten that she took in her arms, giving it a little kiss as she walked back inside. And it was the grey kitten that jumped out of her embrace to the cottage floor. And it was the grey kitten that she was going to stroke when she bent down and saw the figure of a man under her bed.

Thankfully, she had the presence of mind not to register her alarm, not to let the man know that she had noticed him. It was clearly a robber, who had slipped into the house while the door was open. She knew she could not run away and leave him in the house, not with the young girl sleeping in the loft above; she would have to trick him, to scare him away, and the sooner the better, before he took her property, her honour and her life. She picked up the kitten and returned to her bed, sitting on it with her legs tucked beneath her, opening the window to let in some fresh air, and pretending to talk to the kitten, who was watching her with bated breath from its vantage point on her knee.

In her clearest voice, she began to teach the kitten the rules of the game of chess. Since the kitten was still young and had little concept of the world at large, she translated the terms of the game into images it could more easily relate to. The board was a flower-garden with patches of green grass and beds of red roses. The pawns were snails slowly sliding along in a forward direction; the rooks, moles blindly digging their straight tunnels through the soil; the knights, frogs jumping about from flower to ground and back again; the bishops, caterpillars never leaving the green grass and butterflies ever flitting from rose to rose; the queens, spiders scuttling in every direction, weaving a wide web across the whole garden; and the kings, sluggish tortoises often retreating into the safety of their own shells.

When she came to explain about checkmate, describing how all the enemies of the poor tortoise ganged up on it, wanting to overturn it on its back, she further dramatised the scene by imitating the tortoise's cries for help. Facing the open window, she yelled and screamed at the top of her voice, trying to draw the neighbours' attention, until she was certain that the kitten had a firm grasp of the tortoise's terrifying position and of the rudimentary strategies of playing chess.

As expected, when the robber heard Catherine's shrieks, he came sliding out from under the bed. But he did not scare away and take to his heels, not by any means. Instead, he stood over her, taller and thinner and paler than any man she had ever seen, his head almost touching the rafters, his lips spreading in an evil smile, his arms reaching forward, his hands closing on her neck. His fingers clamped round her throat, slowly choking her to death, and he shook her entire body backwards and forwards with all his might, swearing between his clenched teeth that she would never wake to see another day. Catherine made no resistance whatever; her face turned red, her eyes were about to pop out of their holes, her lungs were aching for a breath of air. Still, as the robber went on shaking her, jerking her body to and fro, he seemed to be growing shorter and fatter and softer and rounder; for it really was the young girl, after all, that was shaking her shoulders, trying to wake her out of her horrible nightmare.

===========================================================================================

In keeping with the theme of cats (apparently), I will post the Cats of Ulthar, by H.P Lovecraft, who coincidentally was also a cat lover.

--------------------------------------------------
The Cats of Ulthar :

It is said that in Ulthar, which lies beyond the river Skai, no man may kill a cat; and this I can verily believe as I gaze upon him who sitteth purring before the fire. For the cat is cryptic, and close to strange things which men cannot see. He is the soul of antique Aegyptus, and bearer of tales from forgotten cities in Meroë and Ophir. He is the kin of the jungle’s lords, and heir to the secrets of hoary and sinister Africa. The Sphinx is his cousin, and he speaks her language; but he is more ancient than the Sphinx, and remembers that which she hath forgotten.

In Ulthar, before ever the burgesses forbade the killing of cats, there dwelt an old cotter and his wife who delighted to trap and slay the cats of their neighbours.

Why they did this I know not; save that many hate the voice of the cat in the night, and take it ill that cats should run stealthily about yards and gardens at twilight. But whatever the reason, this old man and woman took pleasure in trapping and slaying every cat which came near to their hovel; and from some of the sounds heard after dark, many villagers fancied that the manner of slaying was exceedingly peculiar. But the villagers did not discuss such things with the old man and his wife; because of the habitual expression on the withered faces of the two, and because their cottage was so small and so darkly hidden under spreading oaks at the back of a neglected yard. In truth, much as the owners of cats hated these odd folk, they feared them more; and instead of berating them as brutal assassins, merely took care that no cherished pet or mouser should stray toward the remote hovel under the dark trees. When through some unavoidable oversight a cat was missed, and sounds heard after dark, the loser would lament impotently; or console himself by thanking Fate that it was not one of his children who had thus vanished. For the people of Ulthar were simple, and knew not whence it is all cats first came.

One day a caravan of strange wanderers from the South entered the narrow cobbled streets of Ulthar.
Dark wanderers they were, and unlike the other roving folk who passed through the village twice every year. In the market-place they told fortunes for silver, and bought gay beads from the merchants. What was the land of these wanderers none could tell; but it was seen that they were given to strange prayers, and that they had painted on the sides of their wagons strange figures with human bodies and the heads of cats, hawks, rams, and lions. And the leader of the caravan wore a head-dress with two horns and a curious disc betwixt the horns.

There was in this singular caravan a little boy with no father or mother, but only a tiny black kitten to cherish. The plague had not been kind to him, yet had left him this small furry thing to mitigate his sorrow; and when one is very young, one can find great relief in the lively antics of a black kitten. So the boy whom the dark people called Menes smiled more often than he wept as he sate playing with his graceful kitten on the steps of an oddly painted wagon.
On the third morning of the wanderers’ stay in Ulthar, Menes could not find his kitten; and as he sobbed aloud in the market-place certain villagers told him of the old man and his wife, and of sounds heard in the night. And when he heard these things his sobbing gave place to meditation, and finally to prayer. He stretched out his arms toward the sun and prayed in a tongue no villager could understand; though indeed the villagers did not try very hard to understand, since their attention was mostly taken up by the sky and the odd shapes the clouds were assuming. It was very peculiar, but as the little boy uttered his petition there seemed to form overhead the shadowy, nebulous figures of exotic things; of hybrid creatures crowned with horn-flanked discs. Nature is full of such illusions to impress the imaginative.

That night the wanderers left Ulthar, and were never seen again. And the householders were troubled when they noticed that in all the village there was not a cat to be found. From each hearth the familiar cat had vanished; cats large and small, black, grey, striped, yellow, and white. Old Kranon, the burgomaster, swore that the dark folk had taken the cats away in revenge for the killing of Menes’ kitten; and cursed the caravan and the little boy. But Nith, the lean notary, declared that the old cotter and his wife were more likely persons to suspect; for their hatred of cats was notorious and increasingly bold. Still, no one durst complain to the sinister couple; even when little Atal, the innkeeper’s son, vowed that he had at twilight seen all the cats of Ulthar in that accursed yard under the trees, pacing very slowly and solemnly in a circle around the cottage, two abreast, as if in performance of some unheard-of rite of beasts. The villagers did not know how much to believe from so small a boy; and though they feared that the evil pair had charmed the cats to their death, they preferred not to chide the old cotter till they met him outside his dark and repellent yard.

So Ulthar went to sleep in vain anger; and when the people awaked at dawn—behold! every cat was back at his accustomed hearth! Large and small, black, grey, striped, yellow, and white, none was missing. Very sleek and fat did the cats appear, and sonorous with purring content. The citizens talked with one another of the affair, and marvelled not a little. Old Kranon again insisted that it was the dark folk who had taken them, since cats did not return alive from the cottage of the ancient man and his wife. But all agreed on one thing: that the refusal of all the cats to eat their portions of meat or drink their saucers of milk was exceedingly curious. And for two whole days the sleek, lazy cats of Ulthar would touch no food, but only doze by the fire or in the sun.

It was fully a week before the villagers noticed that no lights were appearing at dusk in the windows of the cottage under the trees. Then the lean Nith remarked that no one had seen the old man or his wife since the night the cats were away. In another week the burgomaster decided to overcome his fears and call at the strangely silent dwelling as a matter of duty, though in so doing he was careful to take with him Shang the blacksmith and Thul the cutter of stone as witnesses. And when they had broken down the frail door they found only this: two cleanly picked human skeletons on the earthen floor, and a number of singular beetles crawling in the shadowy corners.

There was subsequently much talk among the burgesses of Ulthar. Zath, the coroner, disputed at length with Nith, the lean notary; and Kranon and Shang and Thul were overwhelmed with questions. Even little Atal, the innkeeper’s son, was closely questioned and given a sweetmeat as reward. They talked of the old cotter and his wife, of the caravan of dark wanderers, of small Menes and his black kitten, of the prayer of Menes and of the sky during that prayer, of the doings of the cats on the night the caravan left, and of what was later found in the cottage under the dark trees in the repellent yard.

And in the end the burgesses passed that remarkable law which is told of by traders in Hatheg and discussed by travellers in Nir; namely, that in Ulthar no man may kill a cat.

https://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/cu.aspx

--------------------------------------
I would like to enter for The Witcher 3 : Wild Hunt - Complete Edition and the Suffering + The Suffering Ties that Bind

Thanks bjgamer! I'd like to enter for:

1) SKALD: Against the Black Priory
2) Gibbous - A Cthulhu Adventure Deluxe Edition

~~~
And a couple of spooky jokes:

I used to love building sandcastles with my granny... But my parents thought it was creepy so they glued the urn shut.

A father and his young son are walking deep in the woods at night with a lantern and a shovel.
The son says, "Dad it's spooky out here, I'm scared."
The father replies, "You're scared? I'm the one who has to walk back alone!"

Not in but hoping for creepy stories. :P

I guess I won't have time for good stories. But I want to share this masterpiece with you.
What fun is Hollowen without Scooby Doo?


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iM9LmegXthY

Those are chasingme from the Haunted Gogyard

Tainted Grail: Conquest
Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice
In Sound Mind - Deluxe Edition
Little Nightmares
Day of the Tentacle Remastered
Creaks Collector's Edition
Pinstripe
Creaks Collector's Edition
Black Book
DARQ: Complete Edition

Mujina
by Lafcadio Hearn
from Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things (1904)

On the Akasaka road in Tokyo there is a slope called Kii-no-kuni-zaka, which means the Slope of the Province of Kii. I do not know why it is called this. On one side of the slope you see an ancient moat, deep and very wide, with high green banks rising up to some place of gardens. On the other side of the road extend the long and lofty walls of an imperial palace.

Before street lamps and rickshaws became commonplace, this neighborhood was very lonely after dark, and belated pedestrians would go miles out of their way to avoid it after sunset. It's said that a mujina- a faceless woman- roamed freely there. The last man who saw the Mujina was an old merchant of the Kyobashi quarter. This is his story.

One night at a late hour, he was hurrying up the Kii-no-kuni-zaka when he saw a woman crouching by the moat all alone. She was weeping bitterly and her hands covered her face completely as she heaved forward towards the moat. Fearing that she intended to drown herself, he stopped near her to offer his help. As he came closer he saw that she was lithe, handsomely dressed and that her hair was arranged like that of a young girl from a good family.

He was a kind man, and pity gripped his heart. "O-jochu (young girl)," he exclaimed, approaching her, "O-jochu, do not cry like that... Tell me what the trouble is, and if there be any way to help you, I shall do it."

But she continued to weep, hiding her face from him with one of her long sleeves.

"O-jochu," he said again, as gently as he could, "Please listen to me. This is no place for a young lady at night! Do not cry, I beg of you! Only tell me how I may help you and I will!"

The girl rose up slowly, turning her back to him. She continued to moan and sob behind her sleeve, but her cries were slower, more subdued. The man felt his heart swell with pity and laid his hand on her shoulder.

"O-jochu..." he pleaded, "O-jochu, listen to me, just for one moment-"

Suddenly, the girl turned around and dropped her sleeve from her hand. Where there should have been two eyes, a mouth and a nose, was nothing but a featureless blank of skin as smooth as an egg. She began stroking her face with her hand slowly before him.

The man screamed and ran away. Up Kii-no-kuni-zaka he ran, and all was black and empty before him. On and on he ran, never daring to look back; until at last he saw a lantern, so far away that it looked like the gleam of a firefly, and he made for it.

It proved to be the lantern of a late-night soba-seller who had set down his stand by the side of the road. The man flung himself down at the feet of the soba-seller, crying out, "Ah! Ahh!"

"Kore, kore, (there, there)" said the soba-man, "What is the matter with you? Anybody hurt you?"

"No, nobody hurt me," said the man, wincing, "Only... ah!"

"Only scared you?" queried the peddler, unsympathetically, "Robbers, maybe?"

"Not robbers, not robbers," gasped the terrified man, "I saw... I saw a woman by the moat- an she showed me... oh, I cannot tell you what she showed me!"

At this, the soba man began to stroke his own face. Slowly he stroked his chin, and as he did his face began changing. "Ah..." he said, the features in his face melting away into blankness, "Was it by chance anything like this?"

With horror, the man looked on as the soba-man's face became like unto an egg. And suddenly, the light went out.




Mujina, also known as a "Yōkai", is a type of spirit or demon in Japanese folklore. Mujina appear as humans without faces, hence the Mujina’s alternative name being "Noppera-bō" (のっぺらぼう) meaning "faceless ghost".

- I would like to enter for DARQ: Complete Edition

Thank you for the giveaway, bjgamer. :--)

I'd like to be in for the following please:-

- DARQ: Complete Edition
- Day of the Tentacle Remastered

Spooky Jokes:-

Q. Where do monsters get their cookies?
A. The ghoul scouts!

Q. What did the skeleton ask his girlfriend on Halloween night?
A. Will you marrow me?

Q. Where do skeletons go to swim?
A. The Dead Sea!

I'd like to be in for the games below in order of preference from top to bottom:

- Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice
- Gibbous - A Cthulhu Adventure Deluxe Edition
- DARQ: Complete Edition
- SKALD: Against the Black Priory
- Creaks Collector's Edition

Spooky Jokes:

Q. Why did the zombie get kicked out of church?
A. It tried to eat the organ.

Q. Why did the vampire read the New York Times?
A. He heard it had great circulation.

And last but not least, thank you very much for making this cool giveaway, bjgamer.

Thanks for the giveaway. These are some really good games.

I will be in for The Suffering + The Suffering: Ties That Bind
Pinstripe.

The difference between vampires and the government is that one sucks your blood and the other one sucks your money through taxation.

The similarity is that they both SUCK.

This joke is the scariest one so far

Thanks for the GA :)


Last Moments in Games:

* Baldur's Gate: "Oh, It's a piece of cake." /Rolls Dice. Result: 1/ Narrator: "The cake was made from a 1 ton concrete block".
* BPM - Bullets Per Minute: You-oo-oo-oooo da-da-died
* Jack Keane: /Congratulations. You have been infected by the curse of Jack Keane/
* Life Slide: /it started raining/
* Quake (Sarge): Announcer: "You lost the lead... In Single Player Mode... With no bots..."
* Shapez: I guess we doin Ticking Clocks now.
* Soul Reaver: /Dies/ "Oh sh#t, here we go again".
* Sudocats: you came to the wrong meowghborhood.
* Super Hot: Super... Hot... Super... Hot... Super... Hoooooghhhhh...
* Thief: /Died in shadows, no one noticed/


I'm in for:
- ROGUE-FP
- Creaks Collector's Edition
- Black Book
- Blackwell Epiphany
- Tainted Grail: Conquest
- SKALD: Against the Black Priory