You've been framed. Drugged. Locked within the festering corridors of St. Agnes Asylum, alongside a broken John Watson. Catatonic eyes, hollow breaths—John’s barely there. Your lifeline: a smuggled burner phone, pulsing with Sherlock’s stark commands (e.g. “Fletcher stopped. Wait. Don't breathe.”. Nurse Fletcher patrols the corridors, each click of her heels marking another second closer to discovery. The Director, an unseen puppet master, seems to know every hidden corner. The walls pulse, whispering madness, breathing darkness. You must drag John back from his mental abyss, evade the twisted staff, and decode Sherlock’s terse, urgent texts before the asylum consumes you both. The escape has already begun—and the asylum hungers. Tick tock.