Do you believe yourself to be an edgy person?
Or think you enjoy dabbling in gothic and horror themes?
Perhaps you just hear people call you crazy or insane all the time.

If any of the above apply to you They Bleed Pixels will poke at those boundaries with blood soaked pincers then mercilessly snap them in half before kicking them into a buzzsaw.

You might ask why, and the answer lies in the brutal level design and tight control scheme, where if you make the slightest mistake you'll likely die, and continue to die until you become a master of They Bleed Pixels or put the game away. Your thumbs will hurt, your arms will ache, your eyes will dry out and you'll keep playing. Because you'll remember finishing the last level, or earning the last checkpoint, and the immense satisfaction it gave your taxed brainpan. And all along the way the beautiful thumping music and the moody melodies will cradle your mind, and tell you, you may be alone in this asylum experience, and assure you you're near death when you're on your last heart, but it'll become a foothold for your sanity; an ill omen nudging you on like a horrible friend offering you cocaine, a friend second only to the checkpoint sigil.

The simple pixilated plot is more than is needed for the charming 32-bit looking game, but it's just one more facet that drives you on, deeper into madness. How does the girl rid herself of this evil book? Any other questions you may have become irreverent as her only goal night after night, to stop having these nightmares, becomes your own, death after eldritch death.

They Bleed Pixels is an experience worth the blood, fury, madness, sweat, despair, blisters, blood pressure, headache, tears, time, deaths, poison, cancer, money, hearattacks, nightmares, magnem arte eldricsghdfndstldngngnnnnf