In a discussion at GamersWithJobs I started thinking about the sort of things that make a game “scary”. A lot of games (and movies) attempt to startle the audience rather than scare them. Being startled is temporary and doesn’t last much longer than the moment it occurs. Terror, however, will follow your every step. When you’re dealing with something that is not real, however, it becomes rather tricky.

In terms of video games, I think the trick is to always put the player at a disadvantage. Most games actively give the player bonuses against enemies, designing them to take on a large group of foes at once with no worry. The idea is to play a bad ass, after all.

A horror game cannot use this tactic if it wants to be effective at generating fear. The player must feel that each encounter could be their last. The problem with this is that it is likely to wear off over time. New challenges must continually be introduced so that the player is always on edge. Typically the game is balanced by introducing new and better equipment to the player, making sure they are never at too much of a disadvantage.

Resident Evil managed this sort of change by granting the player more and more powerful weapons. Eventually guns like the shotgun and magnum could make short work of a zombie. However, dogs and large reptilian creatures called Hunters appeared moving faster and dealing more damage. All of a sudden regular zombies remain a threat as the player will save their limited resources for the stronger foes, holding onto the more powerful weaponry for the more threatening monsters. Despite obtaining upgrades and becoming stronger, the player was forced to tackle stronger foes. The balance was maintained while allowing the player to feel as if things were progressing.

A player must also be forced to look over their shoulder constantly. Any suspense will be taken away once they feel safe in their environment. In Resident Evil 4 the opening sequence is incredibly nerve-wracking, a moment that any player will have trouble jumping into with both feet, until they discover how to bottle neck their foes (the house with the shotgun? Climb onto the second floor and out the window, running around the house and staying on the roof. The foes won’t use ladders to climb up and can only come at you from one direction). There are many areas in the game where foes can be taken on in this manner, and it completely eliminates any sense of fear or dread.

Contrast this with Dead Space, where often times the safest location is in the middle of the room. Monsters can drop down from any vent in the wall or ceiling, meaning foes can come from anywhere. By staying near the walls or in a corner you merely give creatures a shortcut to come and attack you. A player must constantly be on the move, fighting monsters from all directions. It makes the player hesitant to enter every room, not knowing where something will come from. Even if the player notices that monsters come out of vents, not every vent holds a surprise behind it.

This, of course, brings about one of the more crucial aspects of horror; fear of the unknown. Challenging a player’s perceptions of the world, or even how a game ought to work. One of my most memorable moments in Bioshock was in Fort Frolic. In the second segment of the map, after passing through the frozen ice tunnel, there is a stairway that leads to a small floor on the lower level. The room looks completely empty save for a safe in the far corner and a layer of water on the floor. The far wall is a window into the ocean. It is very easy to get distracted in this room by the view and the treasure discovered.

Instead of just spawning an enemy that attacks the player from behind, it allows them to wander in, feeling confident and secure, and open up the safe to obtain the treasure. Then when the player turns around they are met with several still Splicers, painted up to look like statues. They will not move unless the player comes close or attacks them, but the mere presence is frightening enough.

In some ways this is merely a startling surprise, but it beckons a bit deeper into the human mind and fears. When a monster bursts out of a vent in the wall, there’s no sense of “where’d he come from?” It was hiding behind the vent the whole time. It’s startling, but the player now knows where to expect monsters to burst out of. Bioshock had taught the player how enemies will approach them. Typically there will be a very loud monologue spouting crazy stuff, followed by screaming as they spot you and lunge to attack. Not this time, though. They just appeared right when I was feeling secure. My perceptions of the world were challenged, and it caused me to be quite nervous.

Let’s do a bit of exercise. Let’s try and take some of these elements and figure out how a horror game can be developed from them. In fact, a horror game that I’ve wanted to make for a while now (but, naturally, lack all resources to develop…including experience).

I’ve wanted to recapture some of the thrill of Resident Evil 4’s beginning, but instead of having the player constantly trying to flee or change locations from a group of mortal villagers have them trying to flee an immortal horror that cannot be slain. Don’t make it consistently appear, either. Have it randomly wandering the world, and if it happens to cross your still-fresh path it will begin to track you. Hint to the player that they are being tracked by starting a soft musical piece which crescendos as the monster gets closer, until finally it is an ear-splitting tempo of chase and danger as it comes upon them. The goal would be to use what time is available to try and find a way to get the monster to lose the trail while simultaneously forcing them to tackle any mortal threats nearby.

This way there is a persistent threat that the player must always be aware of, and unlike most games where its appearance is scripted it will exhibit more dynamic behavior. When it appears during one play through may not be the same as another. This takes the edge and control from the player’s grasp while placing it into that of the game. Make the monster willing to fight anything in the environment, and thus running into a crowd of angry human enemies will come at some risk but also potentially distract it for a while.

Of course, there could also be some moments where the computer cheats. If the player can manage to go a certain amount of time successfully avoiding the monster, then teleport it someplace where it will startle the player and force them to try and flee. This way, even if the player gets really good at avoiding it, there will still be reason to fear it. Safety should always be more frightening than a perceived threat.

Unfortunately, a lot of what makes a good horror game tends to clash with a lot of mainstream ideas of what is “fun”. Most gamers want to feel superior to their foes, something that completely ruins the tone in a survival horror game. If players don’t have ammunition readily available or can’t save the game regularly, then they will complain about how poor the game is.

It makes developing a horror game a bit tough. You have to willingly make decisions that will go against the unspoken laws of game design and have been embedded in player heads for years. Many players will react negatively as a result.

Which is perhaps why survival horror games have mostly been a niche market until Resident Evil 4 came around and became more action oriented. The developers still try to be terrifying and challenging, but there is a complete lack of real terror. In truth, it could be that anyone looking to make a really good horror game will have to stick to a low budget and poor sales performance, which is a damn shame as the genre has so much potential.

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