Ledger Cell - Story/Design

- Forward-

Spoilers Ahead.

Ledger Cell was my first game development project. I think this fact shows a little in the game's theme, long format, and some subjectivity issues in the answering phase, I'm still proud of the product and the story I wanted to tell. Originally, I wanted to tell a story from the perspective of a survival horror monster.  It didn't entirely take that path, and  turned in to a story about the pseudoscientific Ledger Cell. It was unpacked over the course of the game in the following format - The Intro text, the text for the mandatory starting square, the other rooms of the complex in an undefined order, the flavor and mechanics of other cards, and the Ending text.

The rooms are chosen by players depending on the rewards they want to pursue, meaning the story in between the beginning and end had to be able to be accessed in any order. That also means that the story unfolds differently per session. I have a story arc in mind, but what follows is the first chapter, and for simplicity  I'll introduce them here in room number order, and add any commentary at the end of each one.

* * *

Intro

Your senses come alive, one by one, like candles being lit. The taste of blood, the smell of decay. The feeling of cold tile underneath you.

In the low light, you can tell that you are at the end of a hallway, under the doors of an elevator. The security panel next to the exit lets out low beeping tones, and glowing words are displayed: “INVS Complex: Lockdown in Process. An administrator must enter their biometric key to end the lockdown.”

You take a moment to get your bearings and try to remember this place. You feel scrambled, and altogether... wrong.

Standing up, your vision dims and the scent of rot is stronger. When that fades, you start to feel the exact movement of the air around you. The beeping of the console grows louder, ringing in your ears. Your senses are fighting for control.

You’ll have to find someone to help you open the elevator. There is only one direction to go; through the door labelled ‘Reception’.

As you begin to walk, an unbearable pain pierces through you, as if your body is splitting in half. The pain gathers in your chest and moves rapidly through you, seemingly picking a place to erupt from.

Comments: The intro felt necessary to orient the players. It introduces two problems. One, that the player is stuck in the lab, and second, there is something physically wrong with them. It gives a reason to explore, a mystery to figure out, and a little urgency behind it. This card ends with the 'eruption', which introduces the first phenotype card, introducing players to that mechanic.

Reception 

The waiting room is silent. Glancing behind you, the word FINGERS is written in red beside the doorway leading back to the exit. There are three hallways leading to the three wings of the complex.

 A pain in your stomach makes you scream and double over. Your eyes well with tears. Through them, you find that you are looming over the body of a security guard. Your eyes narrow and fixate on the wound in his chest. The pain... is hunger.

Comments: This room is entered first, and afterwards, players choose the rooms. It also grants players corpse tokens, another ease-in/theme-to-mechanic link.

Room 101: Prep Room

A laboratory storage and preparation room. There are all manner of supplies, from raw materials and glass containers to protective equipment.

***

A discarded dry-chemical fire extinguisher lays near the door. Someone sprayed down the counter on the left, and wrote in the powdery residue:

“EAT THEM”

Comments: Room 101 and 102 contain similar text, EAT THEM, which is also found in the Cages room in the 300 wing. The repetition is meant to make players wonder what 'them' is. When I could, I'd use shorter text cards that didn't need long explanations to contribute to simpler/non-lore world building, 

Room 102: Dissection Lab

The combined smells of heavy cleaners and decomposition fill the air. There are operating tables with corpses of animals still strapped down. They appear to be hybrids of some kind, a product of what you can only imagine as a horrible genetic experiment. The body of a surgeon lays crumpled at the foot of an IV stand, with the needle in his arm. Presumably, he did not want to be caught alive.

One of the operating tables is clear, except for smears of dark brown- yellow iodine. Standing back, you can make out the words:

“EAT THEM”.

Room 103: Transposition Lab

You enter a control booth with a window that looks in to a testing area.

Behind the glass is a large mass of what appears to be human skin, writhing atop an examination table.

In the control booth, there is an audio recording:

“...Yes, of course I’m excited! But what do we do? We don’t want to call it a soul, right? How do we do this without seeming like we’re pushing an agenda? Mention something spiritual and they’ll pull our funding!”

You look back in to the testing area, and the mass is no longer on the table.

Comments: In an original draft, it was a dog on the table. I like dogs too much, and found it was low hanging fruit, like what happens in a lot of movies. I had the idea of like an ooze-type monster, but human skin. Cool!

Room 104: Observation Lab

This lab is filled with equipment that you do not recognize, sterile and white. The room is very cold, and sounds are absorbed as if it were filled with snow.

You find a Doctor’s Notebook.

‘It appears that when the Ledger Cell is unpacked while inside the Host, a Transposition takes place. The area around the cell becomes unstable, and any previous form data floods in and begins growing, using any recently consumed food as fuel...The result, if uncontrolled, ends in a mass of blood, hair, and bones. Once this is finely tuned, we’ll discuss the practical and business opportunities with Dr. Gierman.

Comments: 

Room 105: Clean Room

The mantrap doors are open. It is far from a controlled environment. The floor and walls are covered in blood and the shreds of a security guard uniform.

** *

There is a vacuum chamber in the corner of the room. Inside is a mangled hand and wrist. All of the fingers have been removed except for the ring finger, which still has a wedding band on it.

Comments: T

Stairwell

The stairwell above has collapsed, blocking the stairs going below. Looking up and down gives you a feeling of vertigo. You’re not sure how you can tell, but you taste the use of explosives...

** *

The body of a mechanic is pinned under the rubble. In his clenched fist, he holds a severed finger.

Comments: T

Room 201: Custodial Closet

A large closet full of supplies and equipment used to clean the labs. The closet itself seems far less sanitary.

** *

A large rolling trashcan is filled with balled up sheets of paper. Uncrumpling one that is stained in red, you find a handful of human teeth, a finger, and what appears to be dismembered lips...

Comments: T

Room 202: The Terrariums

The light switch does not work. Your hearing sharpens, detecting the sounds of churning earth, the rustle of bark and leaves, and the movement of thousands of legs...

** *

Your eyes adjust, and you see terrariums of all kinds, larger than any display you’d see at a zoo.

Comments: T

Room 203: The Tanks

The sounds and smells bring back memories of an aquarium near where you grew up. Giant glass tanks fill the room, the center one being a massive ecosystem with innumerable aquatic species.

** *

In one of the tanks, a severed finger and a clump of hair are being sucked in against the vents of the filter.

Comments: T

Room 204: The Aviary

A room of netted habitats. Some of them have been slashed open, and the birds are missing. The longer you stay, the more overwhelmed you feel by the constant barrage of noise.

There is a small desk near the exit. You pull free the top half of a report from a tipped over paper shredder.

Ledger Cell Phenotype Notes: (FWD:)

“Attached is a list of phenotypes that are often expressed more than others. They may follow a dominant and recessive system like standard genetics. The subjects tend to have issues adapting to phenotypes that affect the senses, as though the brain is not able to process the information.”

Around twenty Phenotypes are listed, but the rest have been shredded.

Comments: T

Room 205: The Cages

This rooms contains the cages that house specimens for animal testing. Most have died in their cells. Nearby, an emaciated lion paces in its cage, and you hear the calls of other creatures throughout the room.

** *

A man is in one of the cages. You can’t tell if he died of blood loss, thirst, or hunger. A pile of severed human hands lay just outside his reach. One hand is placed vertically at the pinnacle. As you approach, you think you hear a whisper.

“...Eat them...”

Comments: T

Room 206: Storage

This must be where all the food for the captive animals is stored. Freezers of meat, sacks of feed, and a variety of containers line the walls.

** *

You pick up the scent of human blood emanating from a container of meal worms. Dumping out the contents, you find the last joint of a dismembered thumb.

Comments: T

Room 301: Server Room

There is the roar of fans and a wall of blinking switches. The machinery here must process a huge amount of data and use a substantial amount of electricity. It appears to double as the security office.

A report is up on one of the displays:

“Host One Ledger Cell Transfers- Uncompressed”

Iterations by Species:

c.1988 - Homo Sapien c.1975 - Canus Lupus Familiaris c.1897 - Myticeti c.1896 - Lumbricus terrestris ... The list continues, but you’re not sure what to make of it.

Comments: T

Room 302: Administration Office

It is the smell that hits you first. Metal and gunpowder. A musty suit and the scent of a living human. A shot rings out and misses. He only has time to pull the trigger once before you dispatch him.

A report lies on the computer desk:

“Human Host Ledger Cell Forecasting”

“Initially, the hardest task was to forecast where the Ledger Cell would go next. Once we mark the Ledger Cell and kill the host, we can follow the cell, and potentially guide it to a different vessel. But what are the determining factors? Is there a moral or karmic system guiding it, or something else?”

Comments: T

Room 303: Director’s Office

This is the largest office, belonging to Dr. Gierman. He sits dead at his desk, where you feel he spent most of his life. Getting closer, you see that his desk is an island in the pool of blood that covers the floor. His hands and most of his facial features have been removed.

You find a memo that was sent to all staff:

To those of you securely waiting in other wings of the complex, I am sorry. We thought we knew what we were creating. I failed to think of every outcome, and failed to keep everyone safe. I’ll be taking ultimate responsibility.

As per Emergency Protocol C, I’ve initiated a lockdown to keep it from escaping. We must outlast its hunger if we can.

Dr. Gierman-  INVS:   “Where Nurture Meets Nature”

Comments: T

Room 304: Business Office

There are rows and rows of cubicles. Next to the first desk is an intercom console. There is an interface showing a list of pre-recorded messages for announcements and emergencies.

** *

The last button replays the most recent message sent over the PA:

“The Host has been injured and appears to have retreated to the exit. Security please report to the exit. All other personnel remain in lockdown positions.”

Comments: T

Room 305: Staff Room

A large poster has been hung in here for all staff members to see. You take a closer look.

“ Help build the INVS brand and culture by using our buzz words instead of their sensitive-subject alternatives:”

• Don’t say ‘Reincarnation’...Say ‘Transposition’!
• Don’t say ‘Soul’ or ‘Spirit’...Say ‘Energy’!
• Don’t say ‘Past Lives’...Say ‘Iterations’!
• Don’t say ‘Karma’...Say ‘Determining

  Factors’!

• Don’t say, ‘thing’ or ‘creature’... use their

names!”

Comments: T

Bathrooms

This is the only room that appears untouched; it is clean, modern, and free of clutter.

** *

You take time to rest and clean up, but avoid looking in the mirror.

Comments: T

Ending

Having explored the complex, you’ve found nothing but the haunting evidence that you are the Host, and responsible for the deaths of those who experimented on you.

With each transformation, there has been a little less pain. A little more control. You understand what you have to do to escape. You take one last walk through the complex, collecting the things that you’ve found along the way.

Standing at the exit, you take a deep breath. The hand from the top of the pile in the room with the cages, the hand with the wedding band and four of the fingers that you found match the scent of Dr. Gierman. Following the advice that you left behind, you eat them.

You wait for the periodic, now familiar, pain. Focussing, you move the pain to your hands, and they begin to change. The pain settles, and you place your hands on the console. It registers the biometrics of Dr. Gierman, ending the lockdown.

The elevator door opens, you enter, and press the button for the ground level. As you ascend, you wonder... if you can control the transformation, is there is a way to turn back in to yourself?

Comments: T

Afterword:

From a design aspect, the game is not what you would see in a commercial venture. The long story contributes to that. It lowers re-playability, increases play time, and offers (to a more narrow audience) a narrative experience. As a beginning designer, one might be prone to valuing the vision of their design or story over the conventions that make games palatable, re-playable, fine-tuned, and ultimately, commercial. Even though I started this game around six years ago, I think that this initial creative spirit will carry me to make a sequel to a game that pretty much no one will see or play. And I will love doing it.