Dread It, Run From It, Horror Still Comes
Twisted and occasionally grotesque, revisiting horror that stuck with us.
When someone uses the term “horror” in gaming, what comes to mind? If you’re like most, you probably see vivid images of genre standouts like Resident Evil, Silent Hill, or Outlast. You probably think about shrieking the first time those zombified dogs came crashing through the windows in Arklay Mansion, or frantically blasting limbs off a rapidly approaching necromorph.
But really, is that true horror? Horror, after all, is a repellent feeling occurring after something frightening is experienced. Horror is an aftertaste of fear, but horror always follows the fear, not the other way around. Terror, on the other hand, is “a feeling of dread and anticipation preceding a frightening experience”. This is one reason Resident Evil 7 is so effective; the game’s atmosphere is absolutely thick with terror, which gives way to some truly horrific realizations once the truth of the plot becomes apparent. In light of that, let’s examine some of the most truly horrific moments in gaming.
Two things to note: one, this opinion piece will be RIFE with spoilers from games you may not have played yet. Be mindful before continuing. And two, as always, these don’t represent SDGC’s overall opinion, merely my own. There are other great horrific moments in gaming, but to cover them all would take months. So, here are a few favorites pulled from the deepest recesses of my mind.
So, SPOILERS. SERIOUSLY. Still with us? Cool.
SOMA: The Truth About Simon Jarret
SOMA gives no fucks about dropping huge moral quandaries upon the player and letting you decide what to do without any assurance anything will change. The game is rife with horrific scenarios, and they begin with protagonist Simon Jarret discovering he is a digital copy of the original Simon, who perished over a hundred years ago, existing at the bottom of the ocean after a comet all but wiped out humanity. “Simon” exists now as a digital scan uploaded into a robotic brain, which in turn is connected to a human corpse in a diving suit. Surprise! Dealing with the question of your own humanity is bad enough, but when the time comes for “Simon” to upload his consciousness into a new dead body, you’re faced with yet another revelation: your previous self, the one you’ve controlled up until this moment, now sits before you in a form of stasis.
Now you are given a choice: you can walk away and leave Simon 1.0 to exist alone at the bottom of the ocean, or you can pull the plug and delete him (you) in his sleep. The implications of how you define “self” are staggering and disturbing, as are the moral and ethical questions about what to do. Are you still human? Are you software? A string of codes made to think and act human? Is unplugging Simon 1.0 tantamount to murder? Suicide? What would happen if he woke up and confronted you? What about the unfathomable fate of Simon 2.0, left alone in the darkness at the bottom of the ocean, presumably for eternity? The game answers none of these, and leaves all of it for you to sort out yourself. That’s why the hallmark of SOMA’s unique brand of horror are not the abominations roaming the halls of a deserted underwater lab, but the questions and emotions which linger long after the credits are done rolling.
Bioshock Infinite: Smother Him In His Crib
Bioshock Infinite is an odd beast, praised by critics yet highly divisive among fans (for what it’s worth, I loved it). Thematically it doesn’t share much with it’s predecessors; Rapture’s molding, sodden ruins are replaced with a beautiful, sunlight-drenched city in the clouds, and the methodical, tactical combat is swapped for frenetic, bullet-laden shooting galleries. But regardless of it’s pedigree, you cannot argue against the awful implications of that ending stinger.
After killing Zachary Comstock and destroying the last vestiges of the Vox Populi fleet, Booker and Elizabeth are pulled through a series of tears and timelines in which the truth behind the game’s overarching plot is laid bare. Elizabeth shows Booker countless other versions of themselves, all going through similar trials in Columbia. It’s here we realize this scenario has already played out a million times before.
But it doesn’t stop there; we soon learn not only is Elizabeth Booker’s daughter, Booker himself is in fact an alternate version of Zachary Comstock, the religous, nationalist zealot responsible for kidnapping and tormenting Booker’s (and his own, really) daughter. In another timeline Booker, overwhelmed with guilt over his actions at Wounded Knee, accepted baptism and became a born-again Christian, changing his name to Zachary Hale Comstock and going on to found the floating city of Columbia. With this revelation, Booker is left with the horrible realization of the evil he’s capable of. And in one of the darkest finales in gaming, Booker allows multiple versions of Elizabeth to drown him at the moment of his baptism and Comstock’s birth, smothering him in his “crib” and bringing the game to a dark, haltering end.
Mass Effect 3: The Reapers
One of the most frightening things in existence is the unknown, which is why the Reapers were so intimidating. The Lovecraftian influences in their design are undeniable; incomprehensible, tentacled horrors waiting in the darkest recesses of space, akin to the dead and dreaming horrors of the Cthulhu mythos. The purpose of the Reapers is to purge the galaxy of all sentient life every 50,000 years to ensure that artificially-created synthetic intelligence cannot grow too powerful. But the real horror of the Reapers is the truth behind their creation. When they first make themselves known, the player is meant to assume they are simply massive, sentient, intergalactic warships.
But in reality, each Reaper is comprised of billions of organic minds, harvested from the civilized societies the Reaper fleet has culled during every destructive cycle. When the conquered are processed, their bodies are reduced to genetic paste, and their minds are uploaded and connected via the Reapers’ neural network, encased in immortal mechanical bodies. The oldest Reaper, Harbinger, views this as a form of rebirth, positing that each cycle of death is in reality a form of salvation, seeing as how every organic mind will live forever housed in a Reaper body. 50,000 years spent stuck with a billion other minds in absolute darkness and silence, only to awaken when it’s time to kill the entire galaxy? Doesn’t sound awesome.
Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2: No Russian
Hoooo boy, remember this? As PFC Joseph Allen, you’re chosen to go undercover in support of the CIA to infiltrate Vladimir Makarov’s terrorist unit. The mission opens with the player, under the false name “Alexei Borodin”, in an elevator at Zhakaev International Airport with Makarov and several others. Makarov looks at his crew, utters “No Russian” and racks a round in the chamber of his rifle, waiting for the elevator doors to open. And when they do, his entire group opens fire on the massive crowd of civilians. It’s mind-blowingly horrific to witness, and that’s before the game hands control over to you and allows you to make the choice whether to engage.
Asking yourself what you’re capable of, even in a digital landscape, is truly horrifying.
Now, it’s been argued by many this isn’t any different than getting in a car and running down pedestrians in GTA. But the difference is, that isn’t GTA’s purpose. Yes, you’re allowed to cut loose and do (murder) whatever you want in a massive metropolitan sandbox, but it’s cheesy and cartoonish, with huge police consequences for your actions. No Russian, on the other hand, practically begs you to aim down your iron sights and mow down families about to board a plane. It’s probably the most violent, horrific sequence I’ve ever encountered in all my years gaming. I was utterly repulsed by what I’d seen. And yet, I consider it to be an essential and pivotal moment, not just in Call of Duty, but gaming in general. Why? Well, the answer is obvious: what did you choose to do?
In all honesty? I didn’t pull the trigger. I couldn’t. Even though I knew it was all fake, that all these weeping and screaming civilians were nothing more than a collection of pixels and basic AI……I couldn’t. The very thought made me feel ill. And in that moment, I learned something about myself: that for all my faults, for all my imperfections, for all the mistakes I’d made in my life up to that point, I couldn’t bring myself to do this. Choosing not to pull the trigger in a video game, as silly as it sounds, made me look deep within myself and examine who I was and what I was and was not comfortable with in entertainment media. At the end of the day it is just a level in a video game. But that moment changed the way I looked at games forever, and gave me a deeper understanding of myself. Asking yourself what you’re capable of, even in a digital landscape, is truly horrifying.
Top Gun: Nailing That Landing
If you owned a Nintendo, you fucking know what this screenshot means. No need to elaborate.
What games inspired a sense of dread and horror in you?
