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A killer one thunder clap ahead of discovery, a hero you so want to see win, and the mother of all twists.

Identity will keep you on the edge of your psychological seat.

But what is identity? The notion of who we are is fickle, as elusive as the rain drops that trail down the window pane.

Rained out roads on a deserted stretch of highway, a motel with plenty of rooms to let.

One by one, the victims arrive, their stories merge, intertwine.

One by one, they die.

Suspicion is cast like a net, capturing all. Elimination only comes in death.

Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None meets Hitchcock’s Psycho.

No means of escape, a trail that leads back to the beginning, an ugly, inexplicable circle.

Bates Motel meets Hotel California.

Go on, give Identity a watch. I triple-dog-dare ya.

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