Roused by the crackle of static, a lingering sense of dread crawls across the floor. You sit alone in your room. A dimly lit memory repeats in your head. 17 demos too horrible to describe keep you from your bed. Each one is a personally crafted nightmare. You've tried to tell others, no one understands.

A CRT you don't remember owning flashes to life. Frozen in place you look upon the flickering screen to spy a dismal, bloodied scene. A cracked and faded jewel case sits close beside. A pale grey plastic box sits in front, emitting a low whirring noise. Will you take to the controller or let yourself be taken over?