I was playing through Aliens vs. Predator the other night when I saw my good friend and gaming insider Matt Sakey (a.k.a. Steerpike) on Steam. Ah, Steam. You allow me to intrude on my friends at my whim. I sent Sakey a one-sentence review of Metro 2033: “I’m punishing Metro 2033 for being a stupid, stupid game. STOOPID.” To his credit, Matt did not immediately log off and instead responded: “Is that stoopid as in …
Fear is our most primal, basic instincts; encouraging us to flee the unfamiliar or dangerous. In entertainment we call it horror. Fear is an emotion; horror is a genre, with clichés, conventions, and innovations.
Back in 1998, my friends introduced me to the survival horror genre in the form of Resident Evil 2. I remember the hallway, screaming when the horde of bats breaks the glass. I remember the first encounter with the Licker on the ceiling, his sightless face locking onto yours, drool slavering from his jaws. I screamed, panicked, and was promptly eviscerated. These encounters and others carved themselves into my memory, making them pinnacle horror game moments. I still remember pausing the game to wipe sweat from the controllers.