The Departed by Liam Montier

So you've got a dimly lit room, some old photos, and the distinct impression that maybe Aunt Mildred's not quite as far gone as you'd thought. No big show, just a bit of eerie charm.

"The Departed" is all about weaving a story, set in Victorian times, where they took the idea of chatting with the dead rather seriously. It's based on the notion of Summerland, a peaceful spot where the departed supposedly hang out.

You start with some old cabinet photographs, each tied to a memory of someone who once was. You and your spectator give them a good shuffle, no dodgy sleights involved.

Your spectator silently picks a word from a list of twelve and remembers the number next to it. They don't need to utter a peep about it.

Lay down a few of those photos, and you're supposedly making a link to Summerland,

No need for twenty questions.

No fishing expeditions.

Zero guesswork.

No secret scribbles.

Still, you somehow manage to guess their word, like you've got a foot in another world.

Then it gets a bit more spine-tingling.

A journal from an 1890 séance mentions an unexpected photo, some lad nobody invited. The journal starts describing one of the photos on your table, and it's spot-on. Spooky, right?

Your spectator finally reveals their number.

You count through the photos.

Flip the last one over.

There's a name.

William.

Right where it should be, matching their secret number. How about that?

WHAT'S INCLUDED

This all comes in a box that's convincingly old-looking:

Everything feels genuinely old and personal, not like something you'd find at the local am-dram society.

It's not just a box of props.

It's a bundle of artefacts.