Welcome to the club where we talk about the game Doki Doki Literature Club and our experiences with it!
Before you continue on, if you have not played Doki Doki Literature Club, and know nothing about it, and I mean nothing at all, I would recommend you go ahead and [give it a try ](https://ddlc.moe/) before going any further in this thread! It's full of surprises and I surely don't want to ruin anything for anyone who wants to enjoy this fantastic experience. It's a unique experience that I believe is best played before reading ANYTHING about it. I'm serious, don't even look anything up on youtube, twitter or even google images.
You can download the game below and pay what you want.
( ━☞´◔‿ゝ◔`)━☞. https://ddlc.moe/
### ♡ Spoilers ahead! ✿✿You have been warned (◕‿↼ ✿ )♡
I'll start with the obvious stuff first. At first glance, DDLC appears to be a relaxing Visual Novel about making new friends, trying new things and hanging out with the four cute anime high school girls that grace the game's cover art. You will be spending all your time with these characters, sharing poetry, and hanging out after school. You will develop friendships as you spend quality time with each of them doing club related activities. Which girl will be your favorite? Who will you be spending the most time with? What kind of fun activities will you all get into? Will you eventually fall in love with one of them? You may just fall in love with all of them, or maybe you will realize you don't love any of them at all. Maybe you will hate yourself afterwards, and maybe you will learn that this game might not be for you after all. Maybe this game will make you rethink everything you thought about visual novels built on developing relationships with cute, cartoon anime highschoolers.
I went into this game blindly, not knowing a single thing about its story. I had heard of the game several times and as soon as I forgot about it, I would see or hear the name again. It was as if the game was following me. Perhaps the game was even haunting me.
Doki Doki, doki doki, doki doki, doki doki... ლ ಠ益ಠ)ლ
Since I couldn't get away from it, I finally caved. I decided to expand my horizons and play a visual novel for the very first time. I had just finished Tim Rogers' ultimate review of Tokimeki Memorial. I had nothing to lose, and I was ready to chill hard with some cute anime girls. So what if I am a fully grown, bearded, cisgender adult man whos prefered pronouns are he/him/his? I was confident that I could handle spending time with some anime girls and if things got too weird for me, I could just stop playing.
As soon as I booted the app, I felt like I got hit by a Sanrio truck. The music was adorable. The characters were adorable. If I looked at myself in the mirror at that moment, my reflection would have done the cute anime peace sign pose, with a perfectly timed wink as garnish. I was ready to do literature stuff with my new, soon-to-be best friends. I hit New Game, called my character Mario and started the opening scene. I wondered how platonic I could possibly be in this game. I thought about the judgement I would receive if someone were to catch me chillin with the kawaii characters. I thought about what Chris Hansen would look like playing this game. It all started so innocently.
Sayori, my in-game bestie dragged me into the literature club where I was encouraged to write my first poem to share the next day. I played the interesting poetry mini-game, and found myself back at the club where the girls shared their own poems with me. "They are amazing writers," I thought to myself. I couldn't wait to see why everyone was talking about this game! Sooner than I expected, with masterful subtlety, Doki Doki's facade began to deteriorate. The exact moment I knew something was not quite right was on the third in-game day. Sayori shared her poem with Mario. Sayori called it "Bottles." The poem seemed innocent enough. It was complex, full of emotion and revealed much about her character. While a majority of the poem was relatively pleasant, it was sandwiched between two lines that did not sit well with me.
Sayori started her poem with the line, "I pop off my scalp like the lid of a cookie jar," and ended by writing "They were supposed to be for my friends, my friends who aren't smiling.
They're all shouting, pleading. Something.
But all I hear is echo, echo, echo, echo, echo
Inside my head."
(;; ͡° ʖ ͡°)
The shift of the game's tone went from slow and deliberate to erratic, uncomfortable and eventually aggressive. I finally learned that this was not a virtual novel about building relationships after all, this was psychological horror. Not long after Sayori shared her poem with me, I found her dead, hanging from a noose in her own bedroom a day after I consoled her and told her I loved her. The cute Sanrio truck that had barreled into me suddenly went into reverse, parked its rear wheel drive tires right over my chest, and spun them in place right over my heart. Doki Doki, Doki Doki, Doki Doki. The game's enchanting and delightful exterior popped off it's scalp like a lid of a cookie jar revealing a demented, and manic persona. I wanted to run but it was too late. By this point, I had already felt responsible for my actions and at my most vulnerable state yet, the game hit the gas even harder. The Sanrio truck grew arms and legs, then powerbombed me from the top rung of a ladder and through a folding table with stuffed Hello Kittys, Badzt Marus and Gudetamas. The Rock, dressed as Kuromi bursted in, flung his branded elbow pad into a portal to hell that had just opened up and performed a people's elbow right on my solar plexus. I was cursed to continue playing until the end, and I did it all to myself.
I convinced myself that there had to be a happy ending in this. I figured all I had to do was lead Mario through the gates of hell, find the light at the end of the tunnel and escape with my sanity intact. I clicked and clicked, delving into deeper and darker depths instead. The game’s main antagonist was torturing itself in manic, bloody desperation to expose how much it loved Mario, eventually confessing the futility of being able to love me, the user. The anime girls could not love me and they would never be able to. The game didn’t just break the 4th wall, it engulfed it under a shadow of pain and hysteria. At one point, I literally had to enter the game’s files in my application folder, search for the character file of the primary antagonist, and delete it. The game did not have a happy resolution. It remained cryptic and desperate all the way until the final line of text. I could not be the hero I thought I could be because the game did not allow me. In a seemingly conscious manner, it “deleted” itself. I reloaded the game only to see a letter written by the primary antagonist. Attempting to click any further prompted me to delete the game and reinstall it if I wanted to play again.
The psychological twists and turns in Doki Doki Literature club were unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in a game. The game had stolen my heart twice. The first time, with its charm, and the second time with a feverish cry for help. I wanted to give the game my undivided attention and the attention was supposed to be for my friends, my friends who aren't smiling.They're all shouting, pleading. Something. I will always remember the image of Sayori hanging from the ceiling, Mario’s best friend that I could not save. The game left me awestruck, with my head popped open like a cookie jar, rifling through fragmented ideas of self conjured by the Doki Doki of my heart and I finished the game left alone by my friends that could never be.
