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Daily Releases (June 29, 2019)

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Game Group Store Score (Reviews)
Who Is This Man DARKSiDERS Steam 75% (52)
The Three Sisters looking for their back home. DARKSiDERS Steam -
Shogun's Empire: Hex Commander DARKZER0 Steam 75% (4)
Master Of Secrets: Dark Europe DARKZER0 Steam 33% (3)
Cosmo Chaser DARKZER0 Steam 0% (1)
Just Sleep - Meditate, Focus, Relax DARKZER0 Steam -
Attract Fragments 5 DARKZER0 Steam -
 
Mod Group Store Score (Reviews)
Pro Cycling Manager 2018 WorldDB 2019 SKIDROW Steam 54% (178)
 
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Fleets.of.Ascendancy.v1.5 SiMPLEX Steam 67% (3)
 

<< June 27, 2019

Q&A

Q: When will [insert game name here] be cracked?
A: STOP! CrackWatch members are not psychic. Games get cracked by completely ANONYMOUS SCENE GROUPS who don't disclose their progress or plans to the general public so NO ONE knows WHEN and IF a certain game will be cracked.
 
Q: What are all these NFO thingies? Where do I download?
A: NFOs are text files included with game releases which contain information about the releases. CrackWatch only informs which games have been cracked. To download look for the releases on CS.RIN.RU or torrent websites. Useful websites can be found in The Beginners Guide and on WebOasis.
 
Q: WTF is Denuvo?
A: Denuvo is a Digital Rights Management (DRM) technology used to protect games from being cracked. Games that have Denuvo are harder to crack and usually take much longer. See Pinned Post for a list of Denuvo games.
 
Q: An update is out, but it includes the base game as well! Can I only download the update without redownloading the entire game?
A: Yes. CS.RIN.RU is your friend.
https://www.reddit.com/CrackWatch/comments/c7b62j/daily_releases_june_28_2019/?
submitted by YouSmellFunky to CrackWatch

There's Something Wrong with Anatoli, Michigan [Part 1]

Hello Nosleep, my name is Austin Skidrow, I'm a younger man who was born in Ohio, and I'm also the only one in my family bloodline left alive, My family always had a history of only having single children, and when I was born, I lost my mother to childbirth and my father to a collision. I lived my life feeling like a shell of a man until I met my better half. Her name was Hollie, and to me she was everything.
Our relationship transcended romantics, and was more familial, more rooted in one another, like when you finally find and put in that last piece of the puzzle. We lived together for five years, until on the 21st of July three years back. Hollie went to go see some family out in Michigan, we had calls throughout her drive there, but about when she should've arrived I received no replies to my calls, I tried calling her relatives out in the small town where she was planning to stay for a few days, they said she had never got there.
For three years I thought I had lost her for good, and at one point I nearly took my own life in some vain idea that perhaps there was an afterlife and that she'd be there; However, two months ago I got some hope that she was alive. A letter arrived at my door separate from the rest. It was from Anatoli, the small town where she was supposed to be all those years back. From the handwriting I could tell it was her, but from how shaky it seemed, made me nervous.
She wrote about how she was still alive, but that she wasn't safe, she urged me to stay away from Anatoli, and to try and go on without her. Her words didn't deter me, in less than a week I was able to buy an old convenience store that was just outside of Anatoli and moved myself there. And from just arriving here now, I now know why she asked me not to come.
It all started back when I moved here, compared to the other towns that surrounded Anatoli, I would've expected the place to be quiet and full of older people, but I was surprised to find that there were hardly anyone over fifty in the town, and a hell of a lot of kids. I mumbled a remark about how these people must breed like rabbits for such a myriad of kids in such a small town.
As being a single child all my life, I was never comfortable around large crowds, especially when they're siblings. I only stopped into the town really to get something to eat, during the drive here I hadn't really stopped, wanted to get there as fast as I could, and upon arriving I was absolutely starving and in need of some rest. I parked in a small diner just near the road that would lead to my new base, it was called "The Lucky Man's Diner", a fitting name for my state.
I went in, took a seat at the counter, and was surprised, to see Hollie's Mother asked me what I'd like. I only met Darla a few times through skype calls she'd make with Hollie on the holidays. I was told she worked at an old mill just outside of town with her husband and not at a diner. When I looked up, she noticed me instantly, surprised to see me there obviously as she seemed to be thinking hard about something as she talked. "Skiddie, what're you doing up here? I thought you would've been busy up in Ohio." I hated the nickname she gave me, I know she meant well, especially since she saw me as a kind of son to her, but I never liked my last name, or any take on it, always made my head hurt, made me remember the legacy I bore as the only one left.
"I uh, bought a place up here, I couldn't really bare being back in Ohio without Hollie, needed a change of scenery." I wasn't exactly lying, but I couldn't tell her that her missing daughter sent me a letter warning me not to come. She simply nodded before I ordered a soda and their biggest burger with a side of fries.
As she walked off to hand the chef my order and to take an order for an older man at the opposite side of the diner, I looked around at the other patrons. Families averaged a number of three kids a family, most of them were girls, all innocent and full of wide eyed wonder as some ran around while others messed around with the jukebox that was seemingly rigged to be able to play songs without needing quarters.
I got some side-eyes from the parents and a few straight-on looks from their kids as I just noticed that the entire diner is full, not a single one of the tables was empty, the only empty spots resided amongst the counter, where the older of the town's residents were sitting. They didn't seem to mind me, although I could hear some of them not-so-quietly talk about "The odd fella."
This town, despite being a modern day paradise, didn't get a lot of visitors. After receiving my food and taking a quick nap in my van, I finally found myself at the old convenience. The place had definitely been left unused for decades, its exterior built in that semi-curved-semi-pointed design that I always saw in a lot of 70s architecture, painted in that classic reddish-orange and white that was chipping and covered in a whole lot of graffiti. The parking lot was huge, and the old gas pumps weren't usable anymore, hell, somebody seemed to have found the little areas where the gas would be pumped into to refill them and siphoned them empty. This was all expected for me, as the agent said that the place hadn't been touched since the 70s, however the one thing I found odd was the pristine nature of the store's sign.
It was an old metal one painted the same red and white as the rest of the building, a small prototypical cartoon character who I've came to call Anne the Clerk, doing a little point and gasp at the name of the store that was faded yet eligible, it read "Anatoli Family Convenience n' Gas". I chuckled slightly at the sign, and took one last look around the property before heading on inside. The interior wasn't as bad as the exterior of the place, but it was still shit.
The tile floor was cracked and stained and the roof was warped dripping a foul smelling yellow liquid. The shelves seemed like all they'd need is a dusting and a wash down to be usable again, and every lightbulb in the place was either stolen or broken. I sighed at the prospect of the future work and decided to take the old rotting stairs behind the checkout counter where the real estate agent said the previous owners had built a small second floor home. When I entered I sighed at the site of a dirtied shaggy carpet, a bed frame with an air mattress atop it, an old bedside cabinet besides it propped up by a chair as it was missing two of its legs. I grumbled at the state of where I was going to sleep, but I should've expected it as compared to the rest of the place. I considered just collapsing onto it, but the dirtied state of the mattress forced me to go outside to the van to grab at least my mattress topper. On the way back though, that's when I found it. The second bedroom. Now the real estate owner said that there was only one bedroom, but when I was going down the hallway towards it, I felt a shift, in the wall. I stopped, leaned the opposite way and felt the wall spring back to where it was, like I was pushing on a door.
I used my free hand to prod at the wall and low and behold, just beneath some old chipping plaster and wallpaper, I found a round hole where a door knob would've been. I reluctantly stuck my fingers inside to grip and gave it a few sharp tugs, prying the once hidden door free from the thin spackling and paper that was keeping it down. Behind the door was a large bedroom, far older in styling compared to the one just down the hall from it, yet it was far cleaner. It was styled like a bedroom from the Roaring 20s or early 30s, pale green wallpaper covered the walls as a near-queen sized bed was propped in a corner, the large ornate glass window besides it seeming to have been boarded up from the other side, which made sense as to why I wouldn't have seen it when I looked outside. Other items of note were the old icebox and kitchen, and the old cathode ray television that sat opposite of the bed, built in a custom wooden case. This wouldn't have surprised me if it were just an old room, old places like these are bound to have something that was boarded up and forgotten, but the problem was that it wasn't just cleaner than the other room, it was actually clean. Despite the room's apparent age I couldn't find any dust, there wasn't anything broken or decaying, the bed looked like it was made earlier that morning and the icebox had a brand-new block of ice inside along with a few new-looking Dr. Peppers and a wrapped sandwich that was titled "To Mr. Skidrow, enjoy the new place." My heart sank at the sight of this. I told no one of my move into town, and both the wood and the plastering that hid the room was ancient.
I tried to call the agent who sold me the place and ask if anyone came to the property anytime today or the day before, but when I was sent to the receptionist, she told me that they weren't at the office. I bit at my bottom lip not knowing what to do. I couldn't sleep in my car as it was going to be a sweltering night, and the nearest motel was an hour away. I swallowed my suspicions and decided I'd sleep in the room out morbid curiosity and deep tiredness, and I would've been asleep until morning, if not for what happened around two this morning.
Normally, I can fall asleep soundly and only be awaken by my alarm. However, when I woke up last night I was roused from my sleep by the sound of something like walking coming from the first floor. It was an odd walking, like whoever was walking had three feet, I could tell it was human, it was too patterned to be anything else. I was left frozen in bed at the idea of an intruder, but I knew that if it very well was somebody here to steal something, I couldn't let them simply wander around, especially with all my valuables still left in my van. I very slowly built up the courage to get out of bed and going to grab the biggest knife I could find from the tiny kitchen before making my way to the door, I tried to be quiet as to not alert whoever was downstairs to me being awake; However, the door was too loud and old, making a loud reverberating squeal that made the walking downstairs stop. My heart too stopped for a moment before beginning to pick up pace as the walking began again, seeming to make its way to the entrance of the stairs before stopping, and a low, sad ringing echoed out six times. It stayed quiet again for a minute before than walking outside, a squeaking sound being made as if the gas pumps were being messed with.
I stayed still for what must've been three minutes, only moving again after I noticed that the squeaking hadn't stopped, and once again, I ventured down the stairs, passed the counter, and exited outside to see a short, bloated looking man at Gas Pump #9. His skin was brown, spotted in hexagonal grey patches like those on a koi fish as he simply holds out the old gas pistol as if trying to fuel a car that wasn't there. He had no hair except for wispy whisker-like ones that gave him a ring around the crown of his head that was absolutely soaked in sweat, his feet were far too flat and far too long to be human, what were once brown loafers were ravaged at the tow allowing long fingerlike toes to stretch out, they were lined with more than six viewable joints, and the ends curled up like a first. He wore what must've once been a grey pinstriped suit that was burned from the abdomen down to reveal his distended stomach and legs that were bloated like cysts. I choked out a soft gasp which caused the man turned to look at me, his nose was like a beak and his lips were pointed in a deep V-shape. He spoke, his voice gargled as if his lungs were full of water, a vile yellow fluid similar to the one that dripped from the ceiling poured out from his toothless mouth as he spoke, a pointed tongue occasionally flicking out.
"Aich, relach Anatoli, I put tah cass on the desch before I rang the bell, just needed a few of these before heading for the farm, yach know." The weird birdlike man lifted up his free hand to reveal a few packs of M&Ms, their packaging older than any I've known, his hands only having two large stubby fingers and an extremely thin thumb, while the other looked more like a cow's hoof. Before I could say anything, he placed back the pump's pistol in its slot, walking just a few feet as to where a car would be, before beginning to walk at a ludicrous speed, making a sharp turn out of the parking lot and right behind the convenience into the woods, leaving a trail of his yellow fluid in his wake. I stood still, dropped the knife in place as I literally had thought I went mad, I blinked for a moment, smacked myself over the head, pinched myself, but nothing showed that I was dreaming.
I picked up my knife, and reluctantly followed the trail of liquid to the back of the store, only stopping at where it met the tree line, where I failed to notice on my original inspection that there was an obvious manmade trail that had been partially taken over by the low lying shrubbery. After making my way back into the store, I found that on the desk was a twenty dollar bill, its corners tattered and heavily folded over as its main body was covered in tiny holes and wet spots. And as of writing this, I've been unable and unwilling to go to sleep. I even said fuck it and had one of the Dr. Peppers to try and calm my nerves. I'm planning on going down the trail in the morning, along with going into town to see if I can find anything of interest, cause despite the innocent nature everything seemed to have, something definitely isn't right.
submitted by StAusbeckColliery to nosleep