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The blizzard outside is a death sentence. The thing inside is much worse.
You are trapped in a decaying manor on the edge of nowhere. The wind howls, the wood groans, and your only shield against the dark is the flickering flame of a candle. But you aren’t alone.
He is watching.
"The Host" is a gaunt, impossibly tall figure lurking just out of sight. He doesn't want to kill you—not yet. He wants to play with your mind. He’s the shadow that moves when you turn away. He’s the breath that snuffs out your candle. He’s the whisper in the dark that makes you doubt your own sanity.
CAN YOU HOLD ON TO REALITY?
• A Game of Sanity: The Host rarely attacks. Instead, he haunts. He slams doors, shatters glass, and stands right behind you—vanishing the moment you look back.
• Light is Fragile: Your candles are your only protection. But in this house, windows are mere suggestions for The Host. He breathes in the freezing storm and exhales shadows.
• One Liter of Hope: Fear breeds hallucinations. Your only way to stay grounded is a single liter of water. Use it wisely; once the flask is dry, you’ll stop trusting your own eyes.
• Fortify Your Fear: Don’t just hide. Fight for every room. Wedge chairs under doorknobs and nail boards over windows. Listen for the rattle—it’s the only warning you’ll get.
• The Weight of Survival: Choose your burden before you enter. Will it be the tools to build your defenses, or the water to keep the madness at bay?
The sun rises in six hours. He only needs one second of your weakness.
