In Lament, you take the role of Michael Anderson, a researcher and archaeologist living in England, 1845.
"The trees press in close around this place, and I'm not certain what to make of them. At times they feel... protective. Comforting even, like a barrier holding out the horrors of the outside world.
But in the dead of the night, when the wind has ceased it's familiar billowing, and not even the moon dares show it's face, these trees become all at once taller; still and threatening, like great black sentinels watching over a dying world, pitiless and silent as I choke on the words I never had the chance to say.
This, I know, is entirely of my mind's creation. They are trees, overgrown pines and nothing more, and it is not trees that I fear.
I fear what the forest hides."