Crow Country wears its influences on its sleeve, lovingly embracing features and elements you’d expect to find in an entry in this genre, from tank controls to item-based puzzles. Unfortunately, its reverence for the games that inspired it (Resident Evil 1 &2, Silent Hill) can hold it back, as Crow Country never quite captures the same magic as the giants of the genre. But even with some of the proverbial rides at this theme park feeling like they could use some work, the game is still a comforting addition to the retro-horror trend.

Pools, at least large public pools like the ones evoked by POOLS, are designed to be communal spaces. They are meant to be places of life and sound. In real life and the game, being alone when exploring a pool and its surrounding facilities can feel otherworldly. That isn’t necessarily an unsettling thing. While that is pretty explicitly what POOLS is trying to evoke, for me it manages to be almost meditative.

The best visual representation of this has always been, for me, the work of Leanne Shapton. Now an artist and writer, Shapton was a competitive swimmer for the majority of her youth. In her memoir, Swimming Studies, Shapton intercuts text with various pieces of art. The most memorable to me are the pages of simple geometric renderings of different pools across the world that Shapton has visited. The dark shapes of the pools are contrasted by a stark white surrounding, with nothing else.

Like Shapton’s art, POOLS breaks these spaces down to the basics of dark water and muted white surroundings. But the game triggers something in me much closer to my memories. It’s a combination of the visual rendering of the space, the audio of water dripping on tiles, and the ability to wander at my own pace. There are some rooms in POOLS that feel almost directly lifted from my brain like I’m wandering into memories. It’s not the unsettling experience the game is intended to be for most players, but something more personal and just as enthralling.