Never in a million years would you have thought your escape plan would actually work.

You’d managed to nab the knife that was conspicuously taped behind the dresser after escaping your metal cuffs from the dirty bed, waiting for that crazy bug lady to reappear so you could stab her and make a run for it.

She didn’t die, because of course she didn’t, but she was stunned enough to start screaming in rage and agony, clutching at the gaping hole in her neck as you ran. You kept running through winding halls and past oddly designed doors until her screams of fury tapered off into quiet, muffled noises.

Slight problem. You had no idea how to escape the house now. It was unnecessarily donned with all sorts of strange machinery, mechanics and puzzles.

Batshit crazy family.

You had nearly gotten caught once again when you almost ran straight into who seemed to be the man, or monster, of the house.

Jack Baker.

Strangely enough, he hadn’t noticed you despite your initial terror, turning around a corner with a bloodied shovel resting on his shoulder, humming a jaunty tune.

You figured the only relatively safe way to go was the way he had just come from, considering it looked like he wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.

Pushing through the thankfully unlocked door, you found yourself in a hallway coated with nasty layers upon layers of thick, coagulated mould.

It was nothing short of horrifying, but you trudged on, nervously making your way down to the basement. There had to be an alternative exit some place else than in the main hall with the strange door.

The air was thick enough to choke on as you entered what seemed to be a basement. The mould seemed infinitely worse down here and you could barely breathe.

Almost tucking tail and running back up the stairs, you halt when you hear a strangled noise of muted pain.

There’s really no time to investigate for yourself before a door cracks open, a man stumbling out, limping and clutching his side with his bloodied hand.