Mom locked me home
Control
Tap to uncover the hidden puzzle object.
description
Your mother's twisted game begins with the slam of a deadbolt. Dust swims in slanted light as you scan the prison she’s made of your childhood home—every creaking floorboard, every whispering curtain holds secrets. Cracked family portraits leer from walls; the grandfather clock’s pendulum slices time like a blade. Dig through drawers crusted with mothballs, unearth hidden relics in the attic’s suffocating silence, decode symbols etched beneath peeling wallpaper. That stained teacup on the mantel? Rotate it three times. Hear the shudder behind the bookshelf. The piano’s missing key isn’t lost—it’s wedged behind the furnace grate, cold to the touch. Each puzzle solved drips gasoline on smoldering memories: the flicker of her smile as she tested you with riddles at bedtime, the way she’d hum while locking the medicine cabinet. Assemble torn map fragments burned in the fireplace, align blood-rusty gears inside the broken cuckoo clock, twist the cellar door’s combination until your birthdate clicks. But hurry—every tick tightens the vise. Escape demands more than logic; it requires peeling back layers of a life staged like dollhouse theater. What waits beyond the final lock isn’t freedom. It’s the answer to why she needed you to play.
