Nightmare Fuel: The game uses the Nothing Is Scarier tactic in a beautifully masterful way. There is no Jump Scare, there are no narmy monsters awaiting every corner, there is no danger to the player. There are only the cassette tapes, which puts the player on edge by taking away their feelings of safety and reminding them of childhood fears and leaving your imagination to think that the next room will be scarier than the last in a shaky voice. Old Howard would be proud.
This cannot go unsaid: Most games like this — that is, horror games, especially those which rely on Nothing Is Scarier — use an external threat to generate suspense. A mad killer, a spectral threat, or some other tangible, visible enemy. In Anatomy, you are in a house, and it hates you. It can't scare you, it can't appear to you, it can't even hurt you. But it hates you, and it will do absolutely everything in its power to make sure you know that.
Paranoia Fuel: The game makes you question how comfortable and safe you feel residing inside of your home.
Tear Jerker: The ending, with the tape describing the house's loneliness, is surprisingly depressing.
What happens to a house when it is left alone? When it has become worn and aged, when its paint peels, and its foundations begin to sink? When it goes too long unlived in? What does it think of? What does it dream?
