Few games in recent memory have struck such a strange and unforgettable chord as Ratshaker. Developed by Sunscorched Studios, this short, first-person indie title is a blend of grotesque horror, absurd comedy, and psychological descent. It manages, in just under an hour of playtime, to leave a lasting impression—one that’s as fascinating as it is disturbing.
One of the most difficult games to put into words
At its core, Ratshaker is a game about shaking a rat. Yes, literally. The central mechanic involves grabbing a wide-eyed, squealing rat and shaking it violently whenever prompted. The game never explains why this is happening, at least not in a straightforward way, and that’s part of its charm, or horror. The more you play, the more you realise the shaking is a metaphor. For what? That’s left to interpretation, but possibilities range from coping mechanisms to guilt, trauma, or even madness.
The visuals are intentionally disorienting. Flesh-covered walls, endlessly looping rooms, and surreal architecture lend the game an oppressive, claustrophobic atmosphere. It’s not traditional horror with jumpscares and monsters; instead, Ratshaker creates dread through sheer discomfort. The sound design plays a huge role—rat squeals, distorted voices, and intrusive ambient noise never let you settle. It’s gross, yes, but it’s also deeply effective.

A gruseome horror… comedy?
Despite its crude premise, Ratshaker carries emotional and thematic weight. Players will notice subtle story elements suggesting themes of domestic abuse, mental illness, and self-loathing. The game never gives a clear narrative, but it drops enough fragments, a broken home, parental regret, an accident, that you’re left to piece together a disturbing backstory. It’s storytelling through implication, and it works surprisingly well.
The humor is pitch-black. The rat itself is cartoonish in art style and its behavior, the exaggerated squealing borders on parody. But that’s where Ratshaker thrives, in its ability to make you laugh, squirm, and then immediately question what the hell you’re doing. The absurdity becomes horror. You’re not just shaking a rat, you’re shaking yourself loose from reality.

It’s not for everyone. The content is undeniably triggering for some, and its gameplay is minimal. But that’s missing the point. Ratshaker isn’t about “fun” in a traditional sense. It’s an interactive short film, a psychological experiment, a crude catharsis.
For the price of a coffee and less time than a sitcom episode, Ratshaker offers a one-of-a-kind experience that will stick with you long after the credits roll, whether you want it to or not.
