

- #THE SUICIDE OF RACHEL FOSTER SAVE IRVING GENERATOR#
- #THE SUICIDE OF RACHEL FOSTER SAVE IRVING PLUS#
Each chapter is mostly about going from A to B, whether to fetch beans from the larder, restart a generator or investigate a distant noise. It's a straightforward journey of self-discovery, nudged along by a very undemanding to-do list. Keeping you company throughout this unintended vigil is Irving, a boyish FEMA agent who contacts you over cellphone to offer survival tips, banter and a sympathetic ear, as Nicole sifts through old belongings and revisits her relationship with her dad. Fate, as ever, intervenes, and Nicole is trapped for several days by a snowstorm, holing up in her old teenage room and scouring the property for supplies. With both her parents and Rachel now deceased, Nicole has returned to survey the Timberline before selling it off and washing her hands of a painful upbringing. Years ago, she and her mother fled the property after learning of her father's infidelity with the titular Rachel, a 16-year-old girl. You play Nicole, daughter of the hotel's owners. At least, that is, until the memories those walls contain emerge into the light. Where mood is concerned, The Suicide of Rachel Foster trusts its architecture to do the heavy lifting.

Mixed in amongst these mildly threatening objects are hints of outright paranormal activity - a point on the stair where you can hear a voice (or could it be the squeak of carpet on wood?), a strange pink butterfly, hovering by a gap in the wall - but the spooky elements are sparingly deployed. You'll find those legendary geometric carpet patterns, a mountain diorama akin to the Overlook's model maze, and bathrooms painted a diabolical red. It's also a not-so-discreet homage to The Shining's Overlook Hotel, which means that the sightlines and decor feel vaguely predatory, like they're trying to get into your head.
#THE SUICIDE OF RACHEL FOSTER SAVE IRVING PLUS#
Spread over three storeys plus a basement and carpark, the Timberline is closer to a Comfort Inn than some Gothic resort, but in the absence of holidaymakers and staff, its spaces loom.

