Heading out as the sun rises in a battered old fishing boat, everything seems peaceful. The vessel can’t go far, but there are mackerel and cod within easy reach of the port and its lighthouse; I’m warned not to stay out after dark as the rocks can be treacherous, looming suddenly out of the dark and crashing against the hull. After a couple of days, though, I catch something that’s … wrong, a mess of scales curled around a repulsively enormous single eye. The fishmonger’s face betrays a disturbing glee when I hand it over to him, then falls as he holds the oceanic aberration to his ear to hear its whispers. He shoves me from his shop before barring the door.
Dredge plumbs the depths of our instinctive fear of the ocean and the unseen things that waft around down there in the dark. It’s a clever, compelling fishing adventure game with an eldritch twist; you upgrade your boat, nets and rods, venture out further to catch different fish and encounter creatures in the night that make you want to drop the controller in disgust. Sometimes the overarching horror story feels barely there, as you go about your business selling your catch and saving for a hull expansion; other times, when you’re caught out in the dark miles from a dock and starting to see things, it feels oppressively present.
The writing is tremendous, with shiversome descriptions of twisted fish – “a cracked husk of scaly plates sliding atop pulsing, miscoloured flesh” – and sparing dialogue that says just enough to chill the blood while leaving your imagination to dwell on the rest. Characters are illustrated in broad, expressionist strokes, barely animated but still communicating unease, mystery or despair; out on the open water, the style is more minimalist. Your boat chugs away on the calming waves, distant cliffs and islands just visible in the distance.
This game sucked me in for hours at a time. The next unexplored island, upgrade or little story breakthrough always felt tantalisingly within reach and the business of fishing and sailing is so pleasing that it easily carries the rest. Finding a promising spot, you press buttons in time to reel in your catch, then fiddle around with it to fit it into your cargo hold, playing Tetris with fish, planks, sunken treasure and whatever else you find on your day’s adventure. Danger, in the form of underwater leviathans or the encroaching dark, is always present but usually at a distance; there’s a sense of threat without the frustration of imminent failure. A few times I limped back to port at 5am with a damaged engine and holes in my hull, caught out by the setting sun and attacked by some night-time horror, but I was rarely sunk.
Dredge never says too much, which is why it works so well as a chiller. It’s creepy, but never explicitly grotesque – and it can be beautiful and calming, too. It’s mostly up to you whether you tempt fate out in the dark or stick to the daytimes and keep to the shores. The way that its mood can turn so quickly and the intrigue of its sparingly told story kept me hooked.
• Dredge is out 30 March; £21.99.
