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Call Simon Horror Sprunki!
Face twisted rhythm challenges in this Horror Game on Kiz10, where Sprunki turns Simonâs game into a nightmare of sounds, lights, and lurking danger.
(1974) Players game Online Now
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Call Simon Horror Sprunki!
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Scrunkly Final Play : Call Simon Horror Sprunki! đšď¸ Game on Kiz10
Rating:
9.00 (157 votes)
Released:
17 Aug 2025
Last Updated:
17 Aug 2025
Technology:
HTML5
Platform:
Browser (desktop, mobile, tablet)
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You Pick Up the Phone, and It Begins
Thereâs no menu screen. No cheerful âpress start.â You answer a ringing phone, and the voice on the other end tells you to watch the lights. You donât even get to ask who they are. The colors flash in a neat little pattern â red, blue, green. Harmless. You repeat it. The voice chuckles. Then the lights go again, faster. Another pattern. But the way the shadows move in the corners of the room makes you realize this isnât a game you chose to play.
Thereâs no menu screen. No cheerful âpress start.â You answer a ringing phone, and the voice on the other end tells you to watch the lights. You donât even get to ask who they are. The colors flash in a neat little pattern â red, blue, green. Harmless. You repeat it. The voice chuckles. Then the lights go again, faster. Another pattern. But the way the shadows move in the corners of the room makes you realize this isnât a game you chose to play.
The Lights Lie
At first, you trust them. They blink, you mimic, easy. But in Call Simon Horror Sprunki, trust is a trap. One round, the sequence feels right. The next, a color flashes twice when it shouldnât. Or a light stays on for a fraction too long, making you second-guess yourself. Sprunkiâs laughter cuts through the static â low, uneven, like heâs standing behind you. The colors arenât here to help you win. Theyâre here to watch you fail.
At first, you trust them. They blink, you mimic, easy. But in Call Simon Horror Sprunki, trust is a trap. One round, the sequence feels right. The next, a color flashes twice when it shouldnât. Or a light stays on for a fraction too long, making you second-guess yourself. Sprunkiâs laughter cuts through the static â low, uneven, like heâs standing behind you. The colors arenât here to help you win. Theyâre here to watch you fail.
Every Mistake Has Teeth
Miss a note, and the room changes. Sometimes itâs subtle â a shadow grows longer, the walls feel closer. Other times, itâs violent. The lights slam off and you hear him moving. Your own heartbeat starts to sync with the beeping pattern, and you donât know if itâs helping you focus or making you dizzy. Mess up again, and you hear the scraping of something on the floor. You donât want to know what it is.
Miss a note, and the room changes. Sometimes itâs subtle â a shadow grows longer, the walls feel closer. Other times, itâs violent. The lights slam off and you hear him moving. Your own heartbeat starts to sync with the beeping pattern, and you donât know if itâs helping you focus or making you dizzy. Mess up again, and you hear the scraping of something on the floor. You donât want to know what it is.
Sprunki Doesnât Just Watch
He plays along, but not in any way youâd expect. Sometimes he adds an extra tone mid-sequence, a sound that doesnât belong to any button but still demands to be repeated. Sometimes he hums the pattern instead of letting the lights guide you, forcing you to decide if you can trust your ears. And sometimes, mid-round, you swear you feel breath on your neck.
He plays along, but not in any way youâd expect. Sometimes he adds an extra tone mid-sequence, a sound that doesnât belong to any button but still demands to be repeated. Sometimes he hums the pattern instead of letting the lights guide you, forcing you to decide if you can trust your ears. And sometimes, mid-round, you swear you feel breath on your neck.
Patterns That Break You
The game escalates until youâre no longer playing Simon â youâre fighting against a rhythm that wants to swallow you. The lights blur together, your fingers hesitate, and you canât tell if youâre hitting the right buttons or just moving in panic. When you get it right, you feel a rush like youâve stolen something from him. When you get it wrong, the silence that follows is worse than the noise.
The game escalates until youâre no longer playing Simon â youâre fighting against a rhythm that wants to swallow you. The lights blur together, your fingers hesitate, and you canât tell if youâre hitting the right buttons or just moving in panic. When you get it right, you feel a rush like youâve stolen something from him. When you get it wrong, the silence that follows is worse than the noise.
Sound That Creeps In
The tones distort the longer you play. They stretch, slow, or suddenly spike into piercing notes that make you flinch. Sometimes they almost sound like words â your name, maybe, or a sentence you canât quite make out. Every wrong guess makes them more jagged, like Sprunki is chewing on the sound before spitting it back at you.
The tones distort the longer you play. They stretch, slow, or suddenly spike into piercing notes that make you flinch. Sometimes they almost sound like words â your name, maybe, or a sentence you canât quite make out. Every wrong guess makes them more jagged, like Sprunki is chewing on the sound before spitting it back at you.
Why You Keep Going
Because you think you can beat him. You think thereâs an ending where you walk away. But each victory just makes the patterns harder, the pauses shorter, the air heavier. And when you finally slip, when the pattern slips away from you, he doesnât yell or attack. He just⌠whispers something in your ear that makes your stomach drop. And then you start again.
Because you think you can beat him. You think thereâs an ending where you walk away. But each victory just makes the patterns harder, the pauses shorter, the air heavier. And when you finally slip, when the pattern slips away from you, he doesnât yell or attack. He just⌠whispers something in your ear that makes your stomach drop. And then you start again.
Call Simon Horror Sprunki isnât just a memory game â itâs a trap with a smiling face. Every round feels like it could be your last, and yet you lean forward, ready to play again. The lights are flashing. The voice is waiting. Your move.
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