"On Game Design"

Your senses are reeling. Up to this point you’ve always been the type of person who had both feet on the ground. Now, however, your eyes are telling you things your brain does not want to believe. Perhaps you really are crazy. Perhaps they were right to put you in here. Perhaps… perhaps you really…

The first thought that crosses your mind is “Damn… my leg is starting to hurt!” Knowing that, you scan the shelves looking for something that could help. With the aid of your shiv, you tear a couple of strips off an extra uniform from a pile in one of the corners and bind up your…

In your shock and horror at your predicament, the first thing that comes to mind is the sharpened bolt you found. You reach out with your left hand to grab the vent nearest you to and then reach into your pocket for the shiv. Being careful not to stab yourself in the ankle, you twist…

With the coast clear, you think that now might be a good time to check out the vent. Wasting no time, you hop up onto your bed and take a look. In the flickering light, you notice that the bottom two screws have already been removed from the vent. Of the top two, one of…

You’ve been in and out of jail all your life, and in that time you’ve learned one immutable truth: When you’re caught, you’re caught. Don’t fight it, just try to deal with it when it’s over. That simple philosophy has saved your tail time and time again, and you figure it should hold true in…

Panic rushes through your mind as you cast around looking for something you can use to cease the madman’s rush. You take a few steps back to buy yourself more time and, with a sickening *CRACK*, fall backwards over a wooden chair. You scramble to your feet and, ducking underneath Jack’s flailing grasp, manage to…

Before you can reply, you have to shield your eyes from a brief flash of sunlight. Through the window behind Harold, you can see the edge of the sun dip below the horizon — slowly boiling away the last of its light for this day. In this fading light the silhouette that Harold casts seems…

When they told you you were headed for the asylum, you had certain expectations. You expected white walls (padded, perhaps), a calm, helpful staff, and (most importantly) some peace and quiet. You were wrong on all counts. The armed guards who escorted you through the front doors and into the detention area were perhaps a…