Dear reader,
I did it! I’m not reviewing a horror game alone.
David Silbert (editor), Gary Wilson (writer), and I (Clint Morrison, Jr., another writer) braved Dead Letter Dept. over the past week. Mike Monroe and Belief Engine’s brief horror game, which released yesterday, places players in the role of data entry for lost mail. The first-person horror simulator sat us all in front of CRT computer monitors until fear seeped through its edges.
Dead Letter Dept. scared us all in different ways. It left a chilling impression that got under our skin and keyboards, but we also couldn’t put it down.
Since the majority of the game is about transcribing lost mail and letters, I challenged Gary and David to experiment with their critiques. They really stepped up, and the result is a review that attempts to capture the mundane eeriness of Dead Letter Dept.
– Clint Morrison, Jr.

Lost Messages
October 1, 1994
Diane Harvey
19 Hamilton Way
Salem, MA 01971
I KNOW what you did.
Where you got that rope.
How you used that knife.
Fellow writers,
There were times when playing Dead Letter Dept. that I had trouble sitting still in my chair. For weeks, I’ve been using an old dining table and chair set as my home office. These chairs are beat up, with weathered seats and splintered structural poles. Though functional, I can feel the creaks beneath me as I type away on the keyboard, hoping this particular chair doesn’t suddenly give way.
Well, the chair’s still in fact, but my heart isn’t. After my first—failed—playthrough of Dead Letter Dept., I’m left with equal parts jitters and excitement. I’m not the biggest horror fan here on the site (that’s your illustrious domain, Clint), but I know a great game when I see one. And oh, dear friends, is Dead Letter Dept. a great game.
Yours truly,
David
Thursday, January 23rd, 2025
Dears,
I am not sure what you make of Dead Letter Dept. yet.
While the loop is simple, the visuals are a little muddy.
Darks are dark. Lights are bright.
I am compelled by the l e t t e r s though.
Things are beginning to loop.
What’s behind the door?
Gary

Hi David & Gary,
Dead Letter Dept. never quite lets up does it? It so uncannily captures how mundane some bureaucratic work can feel, namely data entry and transcription, with the promise that something else lurks just behind this digital desk.
At the same time, I found it to be an updated attempt at the retired education genre of typing games. It brought back the horror of typing classes (dating myself as a ‘90s kid) and games like The Typing of the Dead (or Mario Teaches Typing).
No one was rushing me to finish Dead Letter Dept., but I continually felt like my job was to complete the transcription of each of these pieces of mail as quickly as possible. As if someone was challenging me to complete typing challenges that would go unrewarded otherwise.
The reward was a promising, if not familiar, loop in a mostly empty apartment building and hallways.
Cheers,
Clint
Friday, January 24th, 2025
Folks,
Teddie Fredrick really needs to pick up his mail. Aren’t forwarding addresses a thing?
Gary
P.S. The teeth motif is really starting to get to me. Same with the dripping water. Think I need to go take a walk. The single save system is interesting, but also glad you can just let it idle on the escape screen.
You good, Gary?
Clint

Horror in the Letters
April 24, 2008
Stacy Peters
7 Franklin Boulevard
New Orleans, LA 70043
To you, it’s a memory…
To me, it’s agony.
Dead Letter Dept. opens, as you may guess from the title, with a letter. While most of the game consists of you reading other people’s parcels, this initial letter is penned by you.
Here, you address someone who once loved—or perhaps someone you still do. The choice is yours. You’ve taken up a job in the city, transcribing letters that the postal service failed to send. It’s a slog, but it’s work. And you needed to get out of your previous situation.
Once you send your letter along, you wake in your apartment, ready to clock in for another day. After touring your muted apartment, you head down a dreary hallway, walk a flight of stairs, then hop on the train as part of your daily commute. Another hallway later, you reach an empty room with one defining characteristic: a lone computer that’s been powered on. With a few sticky notes to guide you, you begin transcribing addresses and letters—literally, using your real-life keyboard—until you meet your quota for the day and can clock out.
Naturally, all is not what it seems. What starts as a normal gig slowly devolves into madness. From flickering lights to static screens, cryptic letters to sudden jump scares, Dead Letter Dept. serves up a heaping platter of terror—all while you’re tethered to the keyboard, typing away.
In gleeful terror,
David
Saturday, January 25th, 2025
Clint&David
I’m glad I used a fake name at first. As more things happen, seeing my own name on these letters would set the unsettling to an even higher level.
Did you guys do the same? I hope you did.
We’ve reached the point where I am seeing more and more places I’ve genuinely been to within these letters.
Is the game watching me?
Using my Maps history against me?
My vision is back.
But so is the breathing.
I walked too far into the dark hallway. Sounds of shattered breathing and glass filled my ears. I backed out, to find my vision shattered as well. Time to go type some letters.
Max
I mean, Gary.

David & Gary,
Dead Letter Dept. invites us to think about stories beyond the horrific one that the protagonist is living. I am fascinated by the ways that the game tells micro-stories through the practice of transcription.
There is something tragic about repeatedly lost letters from the same sends. It is a fear that I am sure that each of us has felt in some way: What if that letter, wedding gift, or birthday card was lost in the mail? What if the recipients perceive apathy in this absence?
Dead Letter Dept. jarringly interrupts the potential for these little stories in letters that are mildly threatening or feel like surveillance used against the player.
These moments feel meta, like they are commenting on the affective process of feeling horror—as if these lost letters are somehow personal to the player. We are then invited to fall deeper into the horror of some kind of conspiracy against this protagonist in a new, unfamiliar town with an ambiguous past.
Cheers,
Clint
P.S. Gary, I promise that it is okay if you don’t finish this game.
Monday, January 27th, 2025
Guys,
If I hesitate too long, my vision breaks again so I have to type fast. Something is deeply wrong here.
Who is Teddie Fredrick?
Why all the teeth?
Who am I even?
My vision is still broken when I’m not looking at the computer. I screwed up.
I can hear it. The creaking echoes of my joints. Violin strings in my knuckles, plucking against the bow on the keyboard. I have to keep typing. More l e t t e r s.
Things only make sense with the monitor.
The cracks vanish, my vision is clear.
I can keep going. I can keep going.
I kept going.
Max

Final Thoughts
January 30, 2025
Amanda Martin
101 Washington Road
Sacramento, CA 94209
You say you’re absolved.
You believe you’re safe.
YOU. ARE. NEITHER.
Dear readers,
A playthrough of Dead Letter Dept. only takes about two to three hours. However, the game offers multiple endings, and as we reached the conclusion of our first runs, we quickly realized there was far more to discover. In a novel twist, the game only allows the player to save the game once per run—ensuring you stick with the game for a sizable sitting each time.
Dead Letter Dept. is simple yet effective in its execution. Its music harks back to classics like Silent Hill 2, while its static-filtered visuals evoke a constant feeling of looming dread. Even the gameplay, which is fairly rudimentary (walk, inspect, type) never fails to entertain. Our multiple sittings went by in a blink, which is a testament to the world and mood the game’s developer, Mike Monroe, has managed to achieve.
That said, Dead Letter Dept. definitely shows some cracks. Visuals can get muddy, some of the lighting choices don’t work, and, in more intense moments, it can be very easy to get lost. But in looking past the small hiccups, you can find a simple but evocative game with a lot of variety. While we weren’t always certain what choices determined what endings, we ended our time excited to dive back in. A stats at the end of each playthrough does a great job of laying out nuggets of information to help you adjust your play style.
In a pre-release email we received, Monroe joked that he’s “not a megacorp”—he’s just one guy. In many ways, our time with Dead Letter Dept. captured that sentiment perfectly. This is a labor of love from someone willing to escape the doldrums of corporate number-punching. Perhaps that’s the lesson players must learn while typing endlessly, hoping a ghost doesn’t pop out and make them piss themselves.
– David, Gary, and Clint
P.S. Don’t spend too long in the spooky hallway.
Score: 8.7/10
Dead Letter Dept., developed by Mike Monroe under the studio name Belief Engine, was released on PC, Mac, and Linux (via Steam) on January 30, 2025. MSRP: $14.99.
Disclaimer: Review codes were provided by the developer.
I’m okay!
this is one of my favorite things i’ve read in a while! so creative, so fun, such a dope way to communicate about the game… I MAY EVEN BE BRAVE ENOUGH TO TRY IT