Last Resort

A dead grandfather, a family full of jokes about his sanity, and a carved key that's warm to the touch — that's the entire inheritance you're left with, and it's clearly not just a key.

You take the thing your relatives wrote off as one of the old man's delusions and start figuring out what it actually opens, which turns out to be less a lock and more a door into whatever he was hiding his whole life. The setup plays it a little uneasy, a little horror-tinged, before it settles into something stranger and more inviting.

From there it's a sandbox built around managing your time and attention across a cast of women who each want something different from you, moving between dating-sim conversation and point-and-click exploration as the household's real nature comes into focus. Domination goes both directions depending on who you're dealing with, and virginity is treated as a plot point rather than a throwaway detail. The horror framing never fully disappears, it just gets quieter the more comfortable you get in the house your grandfather left behind.