On the opposite side, we've already passed a window with two candle stands that can be lit by using the matches we found in the vestibule. The mirror that's hung up on the wall can actually be considered a clue: turning back down the first flight of steps and entering the corridor to our left, we happen upon the painting of a Sarcophagus, with a candle stick placed on either side.
With all the doors in the hallway being sealed for now, our only option is moving up the blue-carpeted staircase in front us, at the very end of which we're somewhat startled to find our despondent self looking back at us. With agitation we notice some oversized footprints and a dead rat by an open window, and fancy now a good opportunity to jump out but alas, those plans of an early ending to our nightmares have been thwarted by the game's developers, as climbing outside is apparently physically impossible for Adam. Two of the four doors at our disposal are warded with white pentagrams, so we proceed through one of the remaining doors that both lead into the same corridor. Apart from that, we pick up a Colt-45, another Magazine, and a Scrapbook containing a Newspaper Cutting on the phenomenon of crop circles. As we set foot into the afore-mentioned room, a typewriter starts to hammer off of its own accord, even though there's no ink ribbon and some of the keys are missing, leaving a cryptic message and us in a state of perplexity. On the small side table to the left side of the entrance we spot 1 Magazine of Colt-45 Ammunition and a copy of Thomas Wolfe's Look Homeward, Angel.ĭrawn by the rarity of a well-lit room looming in front of us, we proceed through a dark corridor that's lined with windows, and notice with some repulsion the pungent stench that seems to transpire from a Suit of Armour. Fortunately, we do not have to fumble about in the dark for too long as we find a Lantern and a Box of Matches placed quite conveniently on a small table to the right side of the main entrance (as seen in Shadows, the opening cinematic of the game). The doors are covered with a variety of curiously glowing wards. To our considerate bewilderment, the first thing to strike our attention off in the distance is a framed pair of sinister eyes that are quite obviously looking back at us. The doors initially bear green, glowing symbols and have no locks, disembodied voices such as the laughter of children resonate through certain parts of the house.Īfter the doors have slammed shut behind us, effectively trapping us inside the house, we try to familiarize ourselves with our gloomy surroundings.
The house is very strange and seems to have a life of its own. Edgar Allan Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher, 1839 (excerpt).įollowing the untimely death of his father, Adam started to have nightmares of great vividity about a house on the outskirts of a village even before actually setting foot into the mansion in Helston. What was it -I paused to think -what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart -an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime.
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I looked upon the scene before me -upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain -upon the bleak walls -upon the vacant eye-like windows -upon a few rank sedges -and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees -with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the after-dream of the reveller upon opium -the bitter lapse into everyday life -the hideous dropping off of the veil. I say insufferable for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible. I know not how it was -but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit.
Let's Walk with Adam through the Realms of the Haunting “ĭuring the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher.
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