So you're John the Baptist - sell me that one, GameStation - and you're knocking around in a dripping cistern, waiting to be killed. The walls loom closely out of the grey mist, water ripples gently beneath your feet, and a single artful blast of light beams down from above. You're wedged tightly into an awkward variation on the first-person perspective, the viewpoint beloved by disciples of shooting, neck-breaking, and wonky hand-to-hand combat everywhere, but none of that appears to be on the cards today.
The controls are familiar enough, but they're quirky and sluggish. There are crates lying around, but they're only there to mock you for your traditional dependence on crates and the ridiculously handy things you tend to find within them. There's even a jump button: useless, given the circumstances, but still present, like a knotty lump of vestigial tail. Not to worry, all of this stuff is just theatre, really, just false hopes built to reinforce - deep in this dark, wet, underground cell, where your ever-approaching death is already a matter of record in, oh dear, the Bible - just how very screwed you are.
But that's only the half of it, because you're also the player, stuck behind your PC or Mac, wondering what it all means, wondering where it's going, and wondering, possibly, if lurking around the corner there's an on-rails shooting section where you get to take out a Judas Iscariot while clad in a giant amphibious Mech outfit (the answer's no, sadly, but there's always DLC).