The storm doesn’t mess about. The moment you step out of the car, it unleashes a barrage of cold rain, wrapping the road in a shroud of mist. Your phone dies just as it’s about to save you. And then, the only thing that cuts through the chaos is a house, half-choked by ivy, its windows staring back at you like lidless eyes. A faint flickering light beckons from the attic, while a basement grate buzzes ominously with the whir of unseen machines. Through the study’s window, a lantern flickers over a forgotten road map.
You’re not meant to be here. But here you are. Now, it’s up to you how you’ll make your entrance into the house.
The participant picks the story, you pick the effect.
Strange Stage is chuffed to present Page Fright. This game book is a love letter to Steve Jackson’s 1984 classic, House of Hell. We’ve gone to great lengths with Haresign Press to recreate it down to the last detail, right down to the cover lamination and authentic 1980s pulp paper. We even tracked down a member of the original print team to ensure we used the same stock. This isn’t just another book test; it’s set to be the show’s pièce de résistance. And yes, it’s fully playable, but let’s be honest, you’re after the magic, not the gameplay.
Your participant kicks things off by choosing how they’ll enter the house, greeted with a quick character reading based on their choice. From that point, four infamous “urban myths” branch out into four performance pathways, each featuring its own sneaky method.
THE FRONT DOOR?
Back in the 80s, there was a playground whisper about a certain paragraph that was said to scare players to death. This book was different from others; there were no weapons or health potions—just pure, unadulterated fear. Game over happens when the player is scared silly.
You explain how the book works, and your participant opens to any page, reading a paragraph in silence. You then reveal what sent a chill down their spine, naming a specific detail from the text they’ve just read. Next, they choose any full-page illustration (they can even change their minds), and you nail the image precisely. This method isn’t just new to book tests; it’s a fresh take on magic itself, and trust me, you’re going to love it. The best part? There’s nothing to find. Even if they decide to read through the entire book, nothing feels out of place.
THE BASEMENT?
In the late 80s, there were spooky whispers about a secret UK research facility that used House of Horrors in experiments on kids. They were hooked up to EEG machines and told to read the book late at night while scientists monitored their responses. Some claimed to see shadowy figures lurking as they turned pages. Others swore they could predict the “correct” choices before even reading them, as if the book itself was guiding them. The programme was allegedly shut down in 1991, records destroyed, but the whispers persist that the book’s branching structure was more than just a game.
In your performance, the participant makes a series of choices as you recount this legend. The paragraph numbers they land on are openly noted. At the end, you demonstrate that any other choice would have led to instant doom, yet somehow they made all the right moves. For the cherry on top, you read the book’s barcode aloud, and it matches the exact paragraph numbers they followed.
THE ATTIC?
Choosing this route gets seriously dark, both literally and figuratively. The attic has always been deemed the most psychologically disturbing path, not just for what unfolds in the story, but for what it can do to the reader. There are tales of those who ventured into the attic path and never returned. Some said it left them shaken. A few... fatally. The age-old warning remains: Read aloud. Stay grounded. Stop when you feel the urge to stop. Don’t push on to see how far you can go. That’s when the book starts to worm its way inside you. Better to leave a door unopened than discover why it was locked.
In performance, the participant halts at any page when they feel the need to stop. You introduce light with a UV pen. Under its glow, a hidden message appears precisely where they chose to stop: He finds you in the darkness. To keep suspicion at bay, you show there are no other secret writings, sweeping the torch across the other pages they could have stopped on—all clean. The message was only ever waiting for them.
THE OPEN STUDY WINDOW?
In the original 1984 edition of House of Hell, there was an image depicting a cultist about to make a sacrificial offering of a bound woman that was banned in later prints. Eerily, owners of the first edition claimed the image morphed over time. Some said the victim's face grew more agonised, while others insisted the cultist’s mask peeled away, revealing something far more sinister. A handful of readers claimed that the illustration was so disturbing they had to rip it out after suffering waking nightmares. Later editions quietly swapped it for something bland. No explanation was ever given, but those who saw the original believed it was never just a drawing. It was an invocation.
In your performance, an envelope is tucked in the book as a marker. Several folks are shown the page and see nothing odd, but one participant clearly spots the banned illustration. When you re-open the book, the page has inexplicably vanished, torn out. You then produce it from the envelope, your pocket, or wherever you fancy. The book can be freely handled, and there’s nothing for them to find.
BONUS EFFECT
Inspired by the original book’s format, I’ve included a tossed-out book effect. I’ve taken something from the original and layered on another principle for added deception.
PERFORMER'S EDITION?
Built for the pros. It looks and feels like a genuine game book—because it is—but it’s tough enough to handle your gig bag or jacket pocket, ready for miracles whenever the mood strikes. Each copy also comes with a matte laminated bookmark.
