kaninat reveka nacole
Ping Weafer
Corpse Party , released in Japan as Corpse Party Blood covered: ...Repeated fear. (コープスパーティー Blood covered: ...Repeated fear. / コープスパーティーブラッドカバー リピーティッドフィアー), Kōpusu Pātī Buraddo kabā Ripītiddo fiā?) is a survival horror adventure game co-developed by Team GrisGris and 5pb. released for the Nintendo 3DS. The game was published by 5pb. and was released in Japan July 30, 2015. It was localized by XSEED Games and released on October 25, 2016 in North America and on October 26, 2016 in Europe.
It is a remake of the original CORPSE-PARTY for the NEC PC-9801 and Corpse Party for the PC, and an enhanced port of the PSP and iOS version of Corpse Party. The game features updated character sprites and CG artworks, remixed soundtracks, an extended scene (from the PC version), new Wrong Ends, and new Extra Chapters.
The North American release is available through a limited "Back to School" bundle, which includes CD soundtrack Corpse Party: Haunting Melodies, as well as Naomi Nakashima and Seiko Shinohara figurines.
Corpse Party revolves around a group of students from Kisaragi Academy, and their homeroom teacher. They perform a charm called Sachiko Ever After as a send-off for one of their classmates who is transferring to another school. However, a massive earthquake occurs after they performed the charm, and they are dragged into Heavenly Host Elementary School. The students appear in completely different dimensions inside the school, separated from one another.
While searching around the school, they find the corpses of the people who were trapped before them, along with the spirits of the deceased. Spirits colored blue are more docile, while red colored spirits are more prone to violence. The students of Kisaragi Academy must avoid traps and fight for their survival while unraveling the mystery behind Heavenly Host, and escape from there.
Corpse Party is a linear survival horror adventure game with some role-playing elements. Players take control of a party of characters, either one to five characters, consisting of students Satoshi Mochida, Naomi Nakashima, Ayumi Shinozaki, Yoshiki Kishinuma, Yuka Mochida, Seiko Shinohara, or their teacher Yui Shishido. Players are tasked with exploring the haunted school grounds, reuniting with their classmates, and solving the mystery surrounding Heavenly Host. To accomplish this, characters must interact with the school's environment, such as picking up objects, talking to spirits, and inspecting documents, while avoiding enemy-like entities, particularly the three children spirits.
Playable characters are generally unarmed and are susceptible to dangers. Wrong endings are activated when a character performs an action irrelevant to the main storyline. As the story progresses, the number of possible wrong endings increases, and making full use of the multiple save files is encouraged. These endings force players to be wary of their actions and decisions over the course of the game. Characters also possess Hit Points (HP), much like those found in role-playing games. In two instances, it measures how much damage they can take before dying, triggering a wrong ending when all Hit Points are depleted.
As soon as the patrol vehicle passed through the entrance to the barracks courtyard, the lieutenant in charge leaped from the vehicle before it had stopped, ran over to the officer who was waiting for him with a group of other soldiers, and, coming to attention and saluting, reported on his mission.
The colonel, a tall, heavy-set man with his face freshly shaved, ordered the lieutenant to stand at ease and went over to one of the trucks. Covered with blood and dust, the bodies of the two guerillas were lying on their backs, already attracting a swarm of green flies.
When they jumped from the vehicle, he climbed up onto the truck bed and stood over the wounded soldier, who was unconscious. A bloody bandage was wrapped around his head. The colonel ran his hand over the bandage, bit his lip and fixed his gaze on some distant point. He continued staring for a few moments and then with a slight nod of his head issued a command. He moved to one side to make room for the medic and the soldiers who had brought a stretcher. He looked down at the wounded man for a moment and got down from the truck.
The prisoners still remained on their knees, hands tied behind their backs. As if forced down by the stares of those men surrounding them, their torsos were bent over almost to the ground. Not one of them was over thirty years old, even though their beards, the dirt on their bodies, and the signs of having lived in the wilderness made them look much older. They stared straight ahead at the ground, appearing more impatient than fearful. One of them wore a cap on his head with a blue star and initials sewed into it.
The stock was perpendicular to the door, close to the wall, and could immobilize up to six men. The shed was damp and oppressive; a rank odor, perhaps a mixture of sweat and dried blood, emanated from the cracked cement floor. The only opening to the outside was the peephole in the door.
The three men began picking up from the floor and from their bodies what he had dumped. They ate eagerly, their eyes avoiding each other, and in minutes nothing was left except the bones, from which they tried to extract all possible flavor.
Once again the door opened, and three soldiers entered, carrying Lieutenant Horacio between them. The corporal who carried the key opened the padlock and then the stock and laid him out at the far end, next to the back wall. When all four went out, the prisoner nearest to the guerilla leader leaned toward him in an apparent attempt to embrace him; but the latter ducked his head as if to protect himself and began dully repeating:
The other prisoners stared at each other, appalled by his appearance. His pants were on backward and his bare torso was covered with reddish and purple marks that appeared to be from burns. His face was swollen and his chin seemed marked with punctures, since they had pulled out the hairs of his beard to form a cross.
The sound of the motors wakened them the next day; it was the first light of dawn. They looked toward the door and then back to the far end of the stock. There, Lieutenant Horacio lay sleeping. At times, when his chin would drop to his chest, he raised his head with a start, but without awakening. They signaled each other not to disturb him and tried to listen to what was happening outside. Someone shouted an order and the sound of the motors intensified. A moan from their companion startled them; but he was only dreaming. They returned their attention to the door. A bugle sounded.
But the officer shrank back defensively. Then, hearing the sound of the bugle, he looked toward the door. His men now regarded him closely. His face had lost some of its puffiness, but his gaze was empty and his lower lip, which drooped and trembled, lent an imbecilic cast to his face.
The lieutenant looked away from the door; his body leaned forward toward the stock. He passed his fingers over the section of stock that lay before him, and then tried to do the same with the sections that lay before his men. Unable to do this, he pointed at he holes through which their feet were secured and then indicated the padlock. He drew his hands back and, bobbing his head up and down, directed a smile of complicity at his companions.
They called out four or five times, until they heard the sound of steps approaching. It was the corporal and a soldier armed with a rifle. When they stepped into the shed, their expressions led the prisoners to believe that they were going to be shot on the spot. The corporal, however, spoke in a level tone.
The soldier forced a grin and pointed to the doorway with the barrel of his rifle. The corporal waited for them to go out as Lieutenant Horacio watched, his eyes never straying from the hand in which he held the key. Then he, too, left the shed.
He was interrupted by shouting voices and then the sound of a shot, followed by two more shots and a clamor of voices that quickly increased. Then another shot, much closer, caused the prisoners to freeze as they stared at the door. On the other side of it they heard someone panting and then, after two more shots, the sound of something falling to the ground outside the shed.
For a moment no one spoke. Then footsteps approached the shed on the run, where the prisoners lay motionless, staring at the peephole in the door. Suddenly, after a pause, the door was kicked open and two soldiers burst in, the barrels of their rifles sweeping the enclosure. One of them then leveled his weapon at the prisoners and the other examined the stock. Confirming that it was solidly locked, they backed out of the shed, their rifles pointed at the men. The second man out closed the door.
Several hours passed during which no one in the shed spoke. The youngest prisoner kept alert, as if feeding on some impossible hope. The other two dozed off at times but otherwise seldom took their eyes off the door. Occasionally, they heard the steps of the guard walking about outside or his voice when he responded to a greeting from a comrade.
The soldier entered the shed carrying a portable spotlight. He examined the ceiling and walls and hung the light from a nail that he found at the back wall. He acted as if there were no one else there. Then he stretched out the extension cord so that it lay flat and, without looking at the prisoners, went out, leaving the door ajar.
The first to enter was a soldier carrying two sawhorses. He set them down against the wall that the prisoners faced and went back to the door to help his companion to carry in two long planks. They laid the planks on top of the two supports, and then went out, without looking at the men in the stock.
The two soldiers returned immediately, carrying the body of Lieutenant Horacio. They deposited it on top of the planks, with the head nearest to the wall with the door. They pulled off his trousers and went out. The body had begun to stiffen. The eyes were open and the expression on his face, exaggerated by the tightly compressed lips, was one of desperate determination. On the side of his neck was the hole made by the bullet that ended his life and that had exited through his throat. In the calf of one leg could be seen the wound caused by the first shot.
c01484d022