Horror – good horror – is really, really hard. It’s the setup equivalent of juggling countless chainsaws (or chainsaw rooms, as it were) while cradling an equal number of squalling infants. Everything must be perfectly orchestrated, or else the end result will most certainly not be pretty. That, then, is why most horror games are largely linear – elaborate haunted houses that ooze creeping dread and digitized plasma, so long as they stay on rails. But what happens if there are no rails to begin with? That’s the question Memories of a Fisherman is asking, and I’m quite interested in discovering the answer. The open-world horror tale is littered with flecks of Amnesia, Skyrim, and Dear Esther, and – though it’s still quite early – I like the sound of where it’s headed.