Gliding downriver on a small ferry boat, we try to peer through the darkness ahead in the hope that we might catch even the faintest glimpse of our destination. At this point, we don’t really know much about the abandoned manor that we are meant to be ransacking, only that it’s situated on a private island and that the superstitious locals around here believe it to be cursed.

Moments prior to boarding our vessel, we had the job explained to us by a shady go-between (who was disconcertingly vague on the details). Long story short: he claimed to represent an insurance firm that wants us to engage in a spot of breaking & entering on their behalf.

It turns out that a wealthy aristocrat recently vanished off the face of the earth, leaving behind an inheritance that’s supposedly stashed away deep in his family homestead. While the residence is said to be filled with all manner of riches and antiquities, we’re only after one specific heirloom tonight. Some kind of obscure talisman that we’re assured is quite worthless on its own, but that nevertheless has “sentimental value” for our mystery client.

Of course, none of this really matters. It’s not our place to ask questions. We’re just here to get in and out undetected, smuggling in tow whatever curious trinket we’ve been hired to grab.

Needless to say, the request is strictly off the books and so an ingenious cover story has been devised for us. You see, we’ve been outfitted with a GoPro camera and — if we’re caught trespassing —our alibi is that we’re simply an “urban explorer” making one of those POV walkthroughs of a derelict location.

It ought to be a pretty straightforward gig then, with low risk and the promise of a high reward. Yet our present company doesn’t seem too enthused. Dressed in a slicker raincoat, George is our transportation for the evening, and he’s made his displeasure about that fact abundantly clear at every possible juncture. Complaining incessantly on the journey over, he’s muttered at length about how he doesn’t want anything to do with the island and how no one in their right mind would go near that place.

It seems that he’s bought into this whole “curse” nonsense, regaling us with tales of disappearing vagrants, strange lights flickering in the attic, and brutal murders from decades past. All of which have perfectly logical explanations we’re sure but, in retrospect, it is odd that the broker neglected to mention any of that.

By the time we moor at the island dock, George is visibly on edge. He hesitates before disembarking the dinghy and then beckons us to follow him down a narrow dirt path. Along the way, he takes the opportunity to remind us (once again) that he thinks this is a catastrophically bad idea and insists that he won’t be stepping foot on the mansion grounds under any circumstances.

Speaking of which, the building itself is now finally in view. From the outside it looks suitably grand and imposing, with an exterior façade that boasts gargoyles as well as ornate Victorian carvings. It’s spacious too, comprised of three floors and a basement. From just a cursory glance, we can tell that combing this vast estate for a single amulet is going to be like trying to find the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Trudging through the mud, we arrive at the rear of the property, at which point George abruptly takes his leave. This wouldn’t really be an issue, if he didn’t also happen to abscond with our one and only light source (a heavy-duty lantern that the furtive fisherman has been desperately clutching since we first met).

Isolated and more than a little creeped out by our companion’s behaviour, we’re eager to get inside. It is gloomy, blustery and — above all else — frightfully cold out here and, while it’s technically Spring, the British climate evidently didn’t get that memo because we can see our breath condensing in the air right in front of us.

A bit of shelter wouldn’t go amiss then, even if it does mean spending the night in a notorious murder house. After trying (and failing with) the back door, we decide to climb some nearby scaffolding in order to access the building from the third-floor bathroom.

Upon entering a grubby en-suite, we see evidence of previous tenants — discarded cigarette packets are half opened and can be found alongside a few other traces of domesticity —but otherwise, it looks like no one has been here in years. No one with even the slightest consideration for their own personal hygiene anyway. The bathtub is clogged with leaves, bird carcasses are strewn all over the floor, and the toilet bowl has been blocked by some unidentifiable foulness that we’d rather not think about.

Our treasure evidently isn’t going to be lying around in this filth, so we press onward. Bursting into the third-floor corridor, we notice that a beam of moonlight is pouring in from the skylight above. And it’s a good job that it is too, because the power is out and we’d be virtually blind without it.

Shuffling around in near-impenetrable darkness, we soon realise that the stairwell leading to the 2nd level is inaccessible— with a web of padlocked chains obstructing the way down — and that many of the doors neighbouring the bathroom are also sealed. Looks like whoever lived here was paranoid about keeping intruders out. Or maybe they were trying to keep something else in.

As if on cue, we then hear an unnatural shriek emanating from the ground floor. Following this bloodcurdling noise, we dash over to a nearby banister and tentatively peer over the edge, whereupon we glimpse a hideous, malformed figure ambling by. There’s insufficient light to make it out properly, and it’s only in view for a fraction of a second. Whatever it was though, we can tell that it’s definitely not human.

This is more than we signed up for! Overcome with fear, we instinctively turn back and return to the window that we used to infiltrate the property mere minutes ago. However, it appears that in our brief absence, it has been nailed shut from the outside!

With nowhere else to go, it dawns on us that the only way to escape now is to figure out a way downstairs. Past the metal chains and that unholy abomination lurking in the foyer. First things first though, we still need to find that bloody amulet. Because without it in our possession, our client will have no cause to send a rescue party and there will be no help coming.

Until then, we are well and truly Alone in the Dark.

The above might sound like it belongs in your typical preview for a brand-new horror title, in the vein of an Amnesia or Layers of Fear. And given that everything we just described was indeed part of a press event — organised by THQ Nordic to promote their imminent reboot of Alone in the Dark — that would seem like a relatively safe bet.

Yet, in actuality, we didn’t pick up the controller once during our entire session. Nor were we treated to any pre-recorded footage and we didn’t even get a chance to speak to the developers. In fact, we basically emerged from the whole affair none the wiser about Edward Carnby and Emily Hartwood’s latest adventure.

Instead, we participated in an “immersive experience” that was themed around the upcoming game. Resembling a cross between an escape room and a Halloween Horror Nights scare maze, it was designed to evoke the feel of Alone in the Dark by thrusting us into the kind of situations you’d expect to see in that storied franchise.

George was not really a paranoid angler then, but rather a professional actor improvising on the spot. Likewise, the insurance broker’s role was to clarify the rules & objectives of the scenario to us (through cannily scripted dialogue), while the River Thames’ D’Oyly Carte Island played host to our terrifying ordeal, and that GoPro strapped to our chest was actually used for capturing all of the best frights. And boy were there some doozies!

Highlights included a bookcase shelf that was rigged to collapse when we averted our gaze, a collection of pot dolls hanging themselves upon a puzzle being solved, and the game’s mascot villain, The Dark Man, ambushing us once our electric lantern ran out of juice. We even startled ourselves a couple of times, thanks to a potent combination of creaking floorboards, unexpected mirror placements and our general state of anxiety.

For the most part, though, the haunted house showed pleasing restraint with those unexpected jumps and deafeningly loud noises. If you go through enough scare mazes in life, you’ll eventually get desensitised to all of their usual strategies and overused tricks. After all, there’s only so many times that a bloodstained, strobe-lit assailant can get up in your face, ranting and raving, before its jolting effect starts to wear off.

Thankfully, our jaunt through the world of Alone in The Dark was a lot more subdued and all the creepier for it. Rather than being rushed through a linear procession of cheap shocks, we were encouraged to take our time, carefully explore the meticulous environments, and drink in the foreboding atmosphere. Much like you would in a survival-horror video game! Credit must be attributed to the ingenious team over at Realm Pictures (the masterminds behind that viral “Real Life Hitman” clip from a few years ago) who crafted a psychological gauntlet here that felt as though it was being tailored explicitly for us. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill scare maze — whereby you’re funnelled down a series of non-descript corridors with a bunch of strangers — as they didn’t have to worry about getting thousands of guests through the door. Instead, they were able to give us a much more personalised experience, akin to what Michael Douglas goes through in David Fincher’s The Game.

Observing throughout via CCTV, Realm Pictures knew just how to manipulate us into looking in certain directions when scripted events were about to occur, could adapt on the fly to our erratic playstyle, and subtly unnerved us with audio cues if it ever seemed like we were getting too complacent.

Afterwards, we were granted a peak behind the curtain and saw the control room from which they oversaw this elaborate production. With dozens upon dozens of monitors and technicians stationed at various instrument panels, it’s no surprise that one member of the team likened it to The Truman Show. Although, under the circumstances, a more apt comparison might have been The Cabin in the Woods.

Suffice it to say, it was a very impressive operation and knowing that all of those eyes were on us for the duration of our slot was exhilarating. It created the illusion that we were the main character in our own story, because there was no overlap whatsoever between us and the other players that evening. From our perspective, we were the only treasure hunter to get a briefing from the insurance agent, the only passenger on George’s ferry and the only hapless soul locked in that mansion.

This oppressive sense of isolation was reinforced by how the event took place at midnight, 17 miles away from central London. Once we arrived at the island, you couldn’t hear any cars zooming by from the mainland or boats chugging along the river. It was as though we were totally cut off from civilisation and trapped in a nightmare that nobody else was privy to. Of course, the reality was that scores of people were hidden just out of sight (and we even had a safe word if things got too intense) but you honestly forgot all about that in the heat of the moment.

What made it all so immersive was Realm’s incredible thoroughness. Across the hour and a half we spent in the house — prolonged by us stupidly missing a key at one point, even though it was quite literally framed and glistening — they never skimped on the details. Like the Imagineers at Walt Disney World, they clearly appreciate how the little things can add up to make an experience feel truly authentic.

Each room was plastered with environmental storytelling, a great deal of which probably went unnoticed as we focused on cracking riddles and trying not to lose our cool. For instance, we found a diary (supposedly penned by the mansion’s former owner) that could be read from cover to cover, as well as fake newspaper cuttings that gave us deeper insights into the island’s macabre past. They even took assets from the upcoming Alone in the Dark and 3D printed them as real-world props that could be touched and used to solve devious puzzles.

On that note, the escape room challenges presented to us here were in keeping with the kind of enigmas you often find in the horror genre. In one instance, we had to scrub through an old VHS tape to identify the hiding place of a set of keys. Elsewhere, we were forced to crush a doll’s head in a vice to retrieve an item that had been lodged in its throat (all while it screamed and begged for mercy) and later had to follow instructions in order to assemble a mystic device used for warding off evil.

With a logic that was reminiscent of the early Silent Hill titles, getting to the bottom of these puzzles was super fun and gave us a taste of what to expect from the new Alone in the Dark when it finally does launch after its multiple delays. In fact, while the event might not have given us any proper hands-on time with the game itself, we did gain a clearer understanding of what developer Pieces Interactive seems to be going for, with an emphasis of the staples old-school survival horror: such as puzzles; Metroidvania exploration; and creeping dread.

However, we do know for sure that action will play a big part too. You see, having cobbled together the aforementioned defensive gadget — a wind up lantern that was capable of emitting some kind of purifying light — we eventually braved the ground floor and went toe to toe with that ghastly monster that’d been hounding us all night long.

It was an intense duel that felt as though it had been ripped straight from a video game. Keenly aware that we were being stalked, we had to check our corners, crank up the weapon whenever there was sufficient time to breathe, and be ready with an itchy trigger finger. If we didn’t keep on top of these things, then we’d leave ourselves vulnerable to attack from our Lovecraftian tormentor.

Are we to infer from our simulated encounter that the 2023 title will have comparable moments, or that we will be getting our hands on a similar weapon in the reboot? Perhaps. Or maybe it’s just an original invention devised purely for the scare maze. Either way, it was a blast.

The same can be said for the entire event, which got us suitably hyped for THQ’s upcoming release, despite the fact that we didn’t play a single frame of it! What’s more, we’re pleased to reveal that you can now vicariously experience it for yourself by watching the full video edit here.

If nothing else, you’ll get a sneak peek at some of the game’s iconography, an idea of the tone the developers are aiming for, and plenty of embarrassing footage of us jumping at our own shadow.