As a special treat for the final week before Halloween, some of our friends have graciously contributed spooky posts for your reading pleasure. The third and final ghoulish goody is from our lovely literary friend, Sarah! A crafty and creative soul, Sarah makes gorgeous jewelry out of a variety of materials. Be sure to check out her store at SeroCreates!
Even though she prefers fantasy vastly over horror, Sarah continues to dip her toe into the inky black pool of spooky games. So grab a torch and follow our friend as she makes her journey into the world of horror games!
Confession: I don’t play scary video games. I play for the escapism (Fable II), for the art and graphics (Final Fantasy X), and for the adorable burlap simulacra (Little Big Planet). Scary games are, well, scary. I’ve never enjoyed the spine-tingling shivers that arise from tumble-down buildings, whispery voices and fog that, frankly, has far too much time on its hands creeping around graveyards. If I’m going to kill things, I want to kill them with magic, magic, and more magic.
Nonetheless, my reticence to play horror games has not stopped my many game-loving friends from foisting them upon me. Every single time the same thing happens: I play for about 30 minutes, get to a point where my character is beset upon by ghouls or zombies or werewolves or something and I’m forced to stop being sneaky and morph into a frenzied berserker rage, killing everything that moves. Then, I die due to ignoring my life meter (see: berserker rage) or I die due to misjudging my location in relation to a cliff or well or landmine or some shit, or I die due to a dead enemy who is not actually dead, just wounded or faking it because he’s a douchebag who won’t just die like his/her/its (often undead) comrades. On the off-chance I actually survive the encounter, I’m so full of adrenaline that I realize I should, under no circumstances, continue playing or controllers will be thrown, tables upturned, fangs will sprout from my gums and I will run, howling into the night. Or something like that.
If I had to choose a favorite among these least-favorite-of-games, it would be the last of the scary games: BioShock. Shortly after its release, my friend Adam (the most persistent of horror-game-pushing friends), had invited me over on the pretext of showing me a new game. Trusting fool that I am, I accepted. Adam is also the friend who introduced me to Little Big Planet, Portal, and Flower, so my guard was down.
To be honest, BioShock looked pretty cool, more steampunk than scary. I should have remembered that this is also the so-called-friend who tried to get me to play Resident Evil 4 (nope), Silent Hill (no way), and the Walking Dead (what is this even). In short, he’s a complete and utter jerkface.
To begin with, the graphics in BioShock are pretty great. Add to that the creepy but fun music playing in the background, the whole world-building concept (a bathysphere? Yes, please) and the decently intuitive gameplay and I was ready to enjoy this game. But wait! There’s more! Of course there is. See, the catch with BioShock is the following:
- Your melee weapon is a monkey wrench. You know, so you get that real-world bludgeoning experience.
- You get hit with fairly heavy foes early on in the game, so if you are a slow player like me (as in, you like to search every single square inch of a room before moving on) you do not have the prowess or weaponry to fight such a foe. You either die or run away.
- Even if you run away, there will be another creature that shows up and who you have to, despite trying to reason with it, bludgeon to death with a wrench.
After killing about five humanoid creatures in quick succession, I calmly passed the controller to Adam, without even pausing the game, and said, “Okay, that’s enough murder-by-wrench for one lifetime. Can I go back to killing things with magic?”