Worshippers of Cthulhu: City-Building for the Criminally Insane

Niels Gys
2 dagen geleden
2 minuten om te lezen

Bijgewerkt op: 1 dag geleden

Dark gothic artwork featuring a ritual sacrifice led by a masked cultist. Hooded followers stand before a massive city with glowing green towers and looming Cthulhu tentacles in the background

TL;DR

Worshippers of Cthulhu is a twisted city-builder where you run a doomsday cult, perform human sacrifices, and awaken a cosmic god. It’s like SimCity, if SimCity was possessed by Satan and ran on madness. Evil, strategic, and beautifully unhinged—Crimenet approved.

Illustration of a colossal Cthulhu looming over a decaying steampunk city. Gothic architecture and green-lit buildings dominate the foreground, with the Crazy Goat Games and Crytivo logos at the bottom.

Cults, Construction, and Cosmic Horror

Right. Most city-builders are about plumbing. Or taxes. Or trying to keep Gerald from the logging camp from setting fire to his pants again. But Worshippers of Cthulhu? No. This one lets you be a full-blown lunatic cult leader, running an island-sized conspiracy devoted to awakening an ancient horror that eats sanity for breakfast. And that, my dear deviant readers, is absolutely our kind of fun.

You’re not building Rome here. You’re building madness—one shrine, sacrifice, and screaming sermon at a time. Picture SimCity if the mayor was a Lovecraftian warlock with a flair for theatrical executions. Your goal isn’t happiness or economic growth. No. Your goal is to impress a sleeping squid god who dreams in languages that drive people to stab their neighbors with soup spoons.

As the grand Harbinger of Cthulhu, you direct a growing population of fanatical cultists. They farm. They worship. They occasionally burst into tears or spontaneous combustion. You harvest resources, construct unholy temples, and if you’re really doing it right, you toss a few followers into a pit to juice up your eldritch power meter.

Top-down view of a coastal city built on a rocky island in Worshippers of Cthulhu. Streets, buildings, and glowing structures form a grid. UI elements show resource stats and quest information.

It’s not just evil—it’s structured, spreadsheet-compatible evil.Imagine Al Capone running a resort island for the damned.

Now let’s talk aesthetics. The game looks like a postcard from hell, which is to say it’s stunning. The architecture is soaked in arcane menace. The terrain is eerie and gorgeous. And the soundtrack? It hums like a sermon whispered through the ribs of a corpse. Top marks.

But—and there’s always a but—it’s a slow burner. Early game pacing can feel like waiting for the devil to return your calls. You’ll stare at progress bars and whisper sweet profanities just to keep the tension up. There are a few rough edges, like some AI quirks and a lore layer that’s begging to go deeper than “Big Tentacle Daddy Hungry.”

In-game screenshot showing a massive stone Cthulhu head with glowing blue eyes. A green-lit ceremonial altar stands at the center, surrounded by robed statues and dense forest.

Still, this is criminal gameplay in its purest form. You aren’t fighting evil—you ARE evil. You’re not robbing banks or selling meth, you’re puppeteering the end of mankind with spreadsheets. It’s perfect for the evil mastermind who thinks SimCity didn’t have nearly enough blood altars.

Final Verdict

If you’ve ever wanted to be the CEO of Doomsday Incorporated, Worshippers of Cthulhu delivers. It’s what happens when urban planning gets possessed.

Category	Score (out of 20)	Notes
🧠 Mastermind Factor	16	Smart systems with cult resource depth. Slowed down by early pacing.
🔥 Chaos Level	17	Cosmic madness, spontaneous combustions—chaos done right.
🖤 Villain Appeal	20	Full villain role. No apologies, just power and blood-soaked robes.
💰 Heistability	11	Not a heist game, but simulates control and corruption beautifully.
🎭 Style & Swagger	18	Atmospheric visuals, haunting sound—drenched in doomed elegance.