Anamnesis - Analogue Horror
Project Overview
🔻 Disclaimer – Please Read Carefully 🔻
This project is currently in its conceptual and developmental phase. The universe is still being built, and animation testing for the proof of concept is ongoing. While auditions submitted here will be considered for casting, please note that no specific casting timeline is guaranteed. It may take a few weeks, a few months, or even up to a year before roles are officially assigned.
More roles will be added as the world expands, and casting decisions will be made directly from this post. If you're interested in being part of this evolving vision, please include your Discord handle in your audition so I can reach out when the time comes.
Thank you for your patience, creativity, and trust in this process
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Moonlight Man
Moonlight Man is a delusional killer who believes he’s transforming into a mythical creature, "Werewolf." His murders are savage, claw marks, bite wounds, but eerily precise, staged under moonlight with ritualistic symbols. He wears a cracked lunar mask and marks his body with invented glyphs. Though he sees himself as a beast, the calculated nature of his kills betrays a man desperately trying to become legend. He's older than most of the killers seen in Newbourne, and probably the one with the most psychological inbalance. In the life of his alter ego, he's somewhat of a grandfather figure, being the head of a nursing home, and being part of a wealthy family, since he is a retired M.D.
STRICTLY ENGLISH CAST. You don't have to be from England, but this project is set in the U.K. So, only English, Irish, Scottish accents please!
- english
- scottish (edinburgh)
- british (london)
- John Lithgow
- male senior
- irish
- audacity
- As long as it's clear
(subdued, trembling): "I'm not sure. I always had a fascination with the urban legends you'd hear all across the world—especially as a kid. It... it was probably quite an annoyance to the people around me, when I'd talk about nothing but werewolves, ghosts, wendigos, skinwalkers. I used to think they were stories. Warnings. Now I wonder if they were invitations. Sometimes I feel it, like something's watching me from inside. Like I'm just the skin it wears when the moon comes. I try to stay calm, stay normal, but there's a part of me that... that likes what I become. And that terrifies me more than anything."
(quiet, uncertain): "After she died, it changed. My mum used to tell me those stories—urban legends, monsters, all that. I think she thought it was just a phase. But I held onto them. They made sense to me in a way people didn’t. When she was gone, it was like something cracked open. I started feeling... off. Like I wasn’t alone in my own skin. I’d wake up with dirt under my nails, clothes torn, no memory. And I’d tell myself it was grief, stress, anything but what it really was."
(SOME CHARACTERS DON'T HAVE ART YET) I shall have them all designs soon. :)
Bloody Mary isn’t the legend, she just borrows the name. Her killings follow a strict ritual: victims are found in front of smashed mirrors, their bodies posed as if mid-confession. She targets those who hide behind curated identities, people who lie to themselves more than anyone else. Before death, she forces them to speak, to confront something they’ve buried. Then she kills them, leaving behind only broken glass and silence. The name Bloody Mary is part of the performance, a reference, a dare, a mirror to the stories people tell themselves. In Newbourne, she’s not supernatural. She’s methodical. And she knows exactly what you don’t want to see.
She’s got this thing, echopraxia. Like, she mimics people’s movements without even thinking about it. It’s not just a quirk, it’s part of how she hunts. When she’s with a victim, she starts copying them, how they stand, how they breathe, even little gestures like scratching their arm or shifting their weight. It’s subtle at first, but it gets under your skin. Makes people feel like they’re being rehearsed, like she’s learning how to be them. And the worst part is, she doesn’t always know she’s doing it. It’s like the mirror’s already cracked and she’s just following the pattern.
STRICTLY ENGLISH CAST. You don't have to be from England, but this project is set in the U.K. So, only English, Irish, Scottish accents please!
- english
- Horse
- female adult
- all english accents
- deep
- audacity
(Cold, midst kill) "You spend so much time trying to look like someone else. Fixing your face, your voice, your story. But the mirror doesn’t care. It sees what’s underneath. And so do I."
(Slight rasp) "You know, most people don’t even look at themselves. Not really. They glance. They pose. They adjust. But they don’t look. You did, though. You stood there long enough to see it, just a flicker, just a crack. That’s all it takes. I’m not the legend. I don’t crawl out of mirrors. I wait behind them. I listen. And when someone finally says the thing they’ve been hiding, I break the glass. That’s the part no one talks about. The sound it makes."
Happy Hour is a euphoric killer who weaponizes pleasure. Operating in Newbourne’s nightlife districts, they lure victims with charm, music, and a cocktail of designer drugs that induce bliss, vulnerability, and hallucination. The killings are clean, almost celebratory, bodies found smiling, surrounded by spilled drinks and flickering neon. Happy Hour doesn’t chase; they invite. Victims come willingly, believing they’re safe, wanted, seen. But beneath the surface is a compulsion to erase loneliness through control. Their ritual isn’t about pain, it’s about keeping the high going, even if it means ending the party with a corpse. In the Black Catalogue, Happy Hour is classified as a social predator, one who kills with warmth, not rage.
STRICTLY ENGLISH CAST. You don't have to be from England, but this project is set in the U.K. So, only English, Irish, Scottish accents please!
- english
- adult
- androgynous
- all english accents
- Any that sounds good
- audacity
(Energetic, playful, commanding) "Alright Newbourne, let’s make tonight unforgettable. No regrets, no rules, just you, me, and the rhythm. If you’re not sweating, you’re not living."
(Smooth, seductive, with a hint of menace) "Look around. Every face here is chasing the same thing—escape. So let’s give it to them. One track at a time. One drink at a time. One heartbeat away from heaven."
(Cheerful, but with a sharp undertone) "Welcome to Happy Hour, baby. Where the lights blur, the music bites, and nobody leaves the same. You came here to forget, so let’s help you do that properly."
Rainday is a vigilante killer who operates under storm cover, targeting corrupt law enforcement with surgical precision. He doesn’t kill out of rage, but out of cold conviction, each victim is a name pulled from sealed files, whispered testimonies, or buried scandals. His kills are quiet, deliberate, and symbolic: bodies found soaked in rainwater, badges submerged in gutters, handcuffs rusted shut around wrists. Rainday believes justice is not blind, it’s drowned. In The Black Catalogue, he represents the horror of righteousness turned lethal, a man who sees the system’s rot and chooses to become its reckoning.
- english
- male adult
- all english accents
- adult
- audacity
(Quiet, sinister amusement) "Funny, innit? How they always run when it starts pourin’. Like it’s the rain that’s dangerous. Not me."
"I used to hate the rain. Got in your boots, soaked through your coat, made everything feel heavy. But now… I wait for it. It’s the only time the city goes quiet. No one looks at you when it’s pissin’ down. They just keep their heads low, rushin’ home, thinkin’ they’re safe. That’s when I move. That’s when I feel most like myself. Not angry. Not mad. Just… clear. Like the water’s washed everything else away. You’d be surprised how easy it is to disappear in a storm."
The Curator collects people like objects. He’s quiet, polite, and always watching. Victims are chosen for how they fit into his vision, not who they are. He preserves them in staged scenes, dressed and posed like museum pieces. Nothing is random. Every kill is part of a larger display. He doesn’t see it as violence. He sees it as curation. In Newbourne, The Curator is known for leaving behind perfect silence and a locked door.
- english
- all english accents
- irish
- male adult
- male senior
- Ominous
- audacity
(Infatuated) "I don’t choose them because they’re special. I choose them because they fit. The way they walk, the way they hold their breath when they’re nervous. It’s all part of the composition. Once they’re still, once the scene is set, it’s perfect. And perfect things don’t move."
"I don’t rush anything. That’s the mistake most people make. They think it’s about impulse, about chaos. But no, presentation matters. Lighting, posture, the way the hands fall. I spend hours getting it right. Sometimes days. When it’s finished, I don’t feel proud exactly. Just... satisfied. Like the piece finally knows what it is."
Red Cross is a vigilante who treats murder like emergency care. He wears medical gear, speaks calmly, and uses surgical tools to restrain and dissect his victims. Each kill is methodical, framed as a procedure. He believes he’s helping, removing infection, correcting damage, restoring order. Victims are often chosen for what he sees as moral decay. In Newbourne, Red Cross is known for leaving behind clean wounds, clinical notes, and a sense that something was “treated.”
- male adult
"I’ve seen what chaos does to a body. The way it spreads. The way it rots. You can’t reason with it. You can only remove it."
"They call me a killer. But I’ve never taken a life that wasn’t already lost. I just finish what the world started."
"Pain is a symptom. Guilt is a symptom. I treat both. Not because I enjoy it, but because someone has to."
Gamemaster is a theatrical serial killer and domestic terrorist who believes reality operates like a video game—each kill earns him experience points, each massacre unlocks a new “level.” He stages his attacks as twisted challenges, broadcasting countdowns and forcing survivors into roles within his self-authored “maps.” Early kills are crude and intimate, but as his level rises, so does the scale and sophistication of his arsenal—progressing from knives and fire to drones, biochemical agents, and psychological warfare. He sees himself not as a murderer, but as a player ascending toward godhood, convinced that reaching Level 100 will allow him to “exit the simulation” and confront the architect behind it all. His crimes are not just acts of violence—they’re performances, rituals of escalation, and declarations of control.
- english
- animation
- all english accents
- male adult
- audacity
"Level up. New tools unlocked. Let’s see what screams sound like in surround sound."
"Level 47 requires twenty bodies. I’m behind schedule. Let’s make this round cinematic."
(Sudden shift—mocking) "But you—you're still in the tutorial. Still asking why. Still hoping for a pause menu. There isn’t one. There’s only progression. And I’m almost there."
 wizardess heart fandub main/supporting cast (long term roles)](https://images.castingcall.club/project_images/image-1174496-wizardessheart01.webp)
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