There's a brief bit of voiceover as Prospero crosses the bridge - this kind of expositoin will be used sparingly throughout - and then he comes upon a deserted old rail car, blood splattered up the front, and his detective skills spring into action. 'It's not mind-blowing visual reality, but it's still something I haven't seen before in games. 'Let's not exaggerate,' Chmielarz catches me. There's a believability to the world, wear and tear - rust, moss, cracks. Chmielarz has talked excitedly about the graphical capabilities of the game before, about the daunting photographic techniques at work, and here in motion the effect is splendid. He walks on towards a rickety bridge straddling a river - a vista straight out of Twin Peaks, with autumnal trees spiking out of a mountainous horizon, a hazy setting sun lighting shimmery water below. The sensation builds with each trap that springs until Prospero can finally step into the vision, emerging into a clearing filled with bones. As Prospero walks, traps spring around him and he begins to sense - something you control by pressing a button - that something important is happening nearby, although only he can perceive it. In the background you can hear violin and cello music kicking up a melancholic din.

He makes his way to Ethan Carter's house, navigating an ominous grey forest agitated by the wind. 'Death is imprinted in the world,' Chmielarz explains, and Prospero can sense it. The police couldn't help, but Prospero will, because he can feel the darkness already. The main character is Paul Prospero, a private investigator looking into the mysterious disappearance of Ethan Carter, a boy who wrote to him - a boy who sees things other people don't, and shouldn't. I get to see this in action in an early demo, which begins in a forest. 'In most horror games when there's evil, the evil is after your flesh,' he tells me.

For his studio's first release, The Vanishing of Ethan Carter, former People Can Fly creative director Adrian Chmielarz is betting that they mesh particularly well in a video game, and that this combination captures the imagination more effectively than mere jump scares. There are plenty of great horror stories in the world and there is no shortage of great detective fiction out there either, but for some the two go best hand in hand.

Transparency by Ethan Stone