In Lament, you take the role of Michael Anderson, a researcher and archaeologist living in England, 1845.
"Christ, Charlie's dead. His eyes, fuck, they ate his eyes.
They've been crawling out of the walls for months, killing the rats, we've known, but... shit, we didn't think it was this bad. They aren't supposed to be able to do something like that, killing a man in his sleep, right? Isn't this... wrong?
I ran when I saw him, into the maintenance room. They won't come in here, I think it's the noise, the cogs.
Dammit, I didn't even get food. What happens now? What the hell's supposed to happen now!? Do I starve, just like that? Do they kill me while I sleep, tear out my eyes, eat my tongue? Should I kill myself, open my throat with a knife, hang from the pipes? Christ, I don't fucking know!
It's not meant to be like this.
Spiders aren't meant to be like this."