HUSH THE DEEP

You are alone on a derelict ship, walking one 44-metre corridor. Something may have changed since the last time you looked — a crate moved, a light gone wrong, a mark on the wall — or nothing has, and the nerve to say so is the hardest part. Twelve correct answers and you are off the ship.

And something is hunting you. It is blind: it hears you, and nothing else. Stand still and it does not move. Creep and you open ground. Run and it runs faster — every footstep is a bearing.

Up to four friends join from their phones as your bridge crew — they see a sonar you cannot, hold the ship's manifest, and talk to you over an intercom that gives away your position every time they use it. Everyone else can join as a whispering audience.