Games can be scary.

Really scary.

They can tweak your extrasensory terror nipple, prod at your soft underbelly of foreboding, and tickle at the back of your neck, drenched in ghoul-rich spookiness.

Fans of the horror genre, and all it's minor variances, will know what I'm talking about. How many times did you wake in the night after another recurring dream about that blood drenched pink bunny sitting on the end of your bed? Or how the slightest loss of reception on your radio resulting in the crackle of static had you swivelling in panic, fumbling for a torchlight? Or better still, leave you temporarily exhausted/writing in finger spasms, as you frantically tap on the "Sprint!" button, in a desperate attempt to evade impending boulder death?

Horror games, if done well, can intoxicate you with their atmosphere. The survival horror genre is perhaps one of the best examples of what a good, damn scary game can achieve. PC staples of the genre, such as Amnesia: The Dark Decent, focus entirely on survival in the pits of an unknown horror. Atmosphere and plain spookiness make up the fabric of a truly nerve-cracking game. Every room must be investigated with tiny, terror-ridden steps, followed by an apprehensive lean around as suspiciously lit corner. Diegetic sound lends it's hand towards the creation of this atmosphere, and Amnesia's lack of 'mood music' is substituted with faint rustles in the distance, screams from the depths of darkness, and perhaps the most scary of all: silence. Though the eyes of our protagonist, we experience all that he sees, and feels, in the first person.

You never know when these might come in handy...

Another example can be taken from the Fatal Frame series (also known as Project Zero). For this example I'll use Fatal Frame on the XBOX. Released on Nov 22, 2002, Fatal Frame took us into a new realm of spine-chilling storytelling, combined with ghosts and ghouls and a run-down atmosphere, all set in the depth's of a ancient Japanese mansion, steeped with history and equal amounts of horror stories to boot. As you search feverishly for your lost brother, our heroine Miku Hinasaki must fight her way through a barrage of soul-hungry apparitions armed with her mysterious ghost-busting Camera Obscura. For me the scariest moments came from learning the fate of the mansions inhabitants – their reasons for appearing as they did in their ghoulish forms, and a lot of the time, how they moved about the screen, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. This for me helped achieve a real sense of fear and apprehension, especially when all you see is a severed head suddenly gaining on you from across the room. All very creepy stuff.

Fatal Frame's Miku and Mafuyu Hinasaki

Zooming into the now not too distant past, gamers have been greeted with a new breed of XBLA indie title under the name of Limbo. Created by a Danish studio named Playdead, Limbo takes the concept of fear, atmosphere, and tension to a whole new level. Survival is the key; but only under the pretence of constant exposure to death. Grisly, unforgiving, death. Our small protagonist is constantly reduced to tiny pieces, impaled, or dismembered, all complimented by the constant drone of crackling light bulbs or thick blanket of silence. In the realm of Limbo silence and tiny musical cues guide the player deeper into the depths of the unknown. As a player, fear is cultivated through a severe lack of knowledge of pretty much anything prior to waking up alone in the world of Limbo, and the never-ending tension is built up on the player having to constantly test the physics of the levels, and explore corners of pitch darkness with tentative steps.

... ah crap.

This kind of atmospheric fear walks hand in hand with the staple concept of fear by shock and exposure to 'true horror'. Where horror or fear is defined by the person/player who plays these types of games, one can't help but admire their ability to create such a sense of foreboding within their atmosphere. Playdead breaks into the modern pool of indie or art-house gaming with a game that forces the player to stretch their imagination, trust in the severity of the trial-and-error method, and ultimately feel their way through the smoggy blackness that is the world of Limbo. Where fear from sudden changes in musical cues, or the appearance of creepy faced spooks bakes the gritty cake that are games such as Fatal Frame; Limbo's ability to suck in and then unforgivably spew out it's player, teamed with it's artsy, inky styling and atmosphere, create the foundations for an entirely different type of fear that a game of this genre can deliver.

But this is but a brief soiree into the world that is 'survival horror' games. I'm sure a lot of you have your own experiences and opinions towards this type of game and it's genre.

With such a healthy abundance of titles still strong on the scene in the the world of gaming, their varying methods of instilling shock and fear can be felt in ways unique to each individual player.

Games can be scary, when you think about it.

Really scary.

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