Control
Control the character's movement using the WASD keys. Press E to interact with objects, G to discard items, and C to toggle between sitting and standing. Use Q to exit hiding spots and left-click to fire the flare gun. Pause gameplay by pressing TAB. Explore the environment to locate key items, solve puzzles, and unlock the main exit to secure your escape.
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Your eyes snap open in a pitch-black room reeking of antiseptic and rust. Cold metal presses against your spine—a gurney. No memories. No ID. Just the echo of a name clawing at your skull: *Doctor Grimace Shake*. Shadows twist into jagged shapes on the walls as your fingers graze a flickering flashlight. The beam catches a blood-smeared sign: **ESCAPE OR JOIN US**. Every creak of the floorboards screams danger. Rifling through drawers yields rusted scalpels, half-empty vials of neon liquid, a key crusted with something dark. Across the hall, a door whines open—something wet slithers in the sewer below. *Dop Dop Skibidi Toilet* gurgles, its porcelain jaws unhinged. You freeze. Noise equals death here. Upstairs, moonlight slices through shattered windows, illuminating *Yes Yes Cameraman* patrolling the courtyard—lens glinting, tripod legs scraping concrete. They hunt. You scavenge. Cracked safes hide fuse boxes, frayed wiring, a map scrawled with symbols pointing to the boiler room. Grimace’s guinea pigs stash secrets everywhere: behind morgue slabs, inside hollowed-out medical manuals, beneath gurneys stained with unidentifiable sludge. A closet coughs up a crowbar. You pry open a ventilation shaft—cramped, metallic, alive with the skitter of roaches. The crawlspace dumps you into a lab. Shelves sag with jars of pickled… things. A code’s etched into a femur: 23-17-06. Footsteps. Heavy. Labored. You duck behind a corpse-laden stretcher as *Skibidi Toilet* erupts from a drain, bile dripping, singing in garbled static. The Cameraman’s spotlight sweeps the hallway. One wrong move, one clink of metal, and they swarm. Survival isn’t luck—it’s silence. It’s noticing the loose floorboard hiding a fuse, the IV bag swollen with gasoline, the way the exit door’s padlock shimmers *just slightly* less rusted than the others. Every second bleeds danger. Every shadow watches. Escape demands you become more ruthless than the things hunting you.
