I’ve never been good with horror. My brain has a habit of taking a titbit of information about blowing it way out of proportion in a cinematic-style nightmare that Alfred Hitchcock would be proud of. So, I haven’t played many horror games. Often, I start a game and painstakingly make my way through the first few levels or areas, with my heart being in my mouth and my hands clenching so much that I’m surprised that there are dents in my controllers from where my fingers were. Then, I experience a horrifying jumpscare or an unavoidable fight with a monstrosity that urges me to turn off my console faster than a power cut.
For example, I’m trying to finish PREY, as I have a good idea for an article on it and I am enjoying the storyline immensely. I’m just having to recover between sessions, as my body needs time to rest after crawling along the corridors, praying that the Phantom’s don’t see me because my lungs can’t last much longer without oxygen. I’ll get there eventually. In like a decade. Or six.
Curiously, I enjoy watching playthroughs of horror games. My housemates have grown used to me being sat in the living room, occasionally jumping at a jumpscare that they can’t see. Then again, I’ve walked into a housemate lying face down on the sofa, making an odd high-pitched noise, so I guess we’re all a bit weird here. Quite a few of my friends are naturally anxious, paranoid and easily scared, yet are obsessed with the genre that should be their worst nightmare.
In human psychology, our fight-or-flight response is triggered during dangerous events or moments of extreme fear. Yet, we keep playing the games. We keep going back to the jumpscares and the dark corridors with unfathomable horrors hiding in every corner of it. So, why does the horror genre have such success when it seemingly goes against human nature?
This idea of actively seeking danger can be seen in many aspects of our lives – such as the existence of rollercoasters, bungee jumping and extreme sports. As a species, we seem to seek out dangerous situations rather than avoiding them as our instincts and ancestors scream for us to do. It’s an interesting conundrum to be sure, as well as a popular research topic in psychological studies. Fear is one of the most fundamental parts of what makes us human, so we strive to understand and harness it in any way possible. The gaming industry agrees with this practise and actively builds upon it.
We’ve talked before about horror games and the sense of isolation, anxiety and fear they can put upon their players – in our Alien Isolation piece. However, I wanted to talk a bit more generally about the genre as sometimes being able to step back allows us to gain a greater understanding of a situation. The big picture, so to speak. The big, horrible, terrifying, grotesque picture. Seriously, are the art departments at gaming companies ok? Some of the monsters in games nowadays are regular stars in my nightmares, so naturally I’m worried about the designers who thought up the unimaginable horrors.
When it comes down to it, I think the horror genre has such success because it provides us with a sense of control that we often lose in the real world. In a scary situation you can’t just hit the pause button until you regain your composure. You must grit your teeth and fight on through, even though every part of you just wants to curl up somewhere quiet and escape it for a while. With horror games you can try to overcome those fears with no real fear of failure. Sure, sometimes you’ll struggle to complete a game but there’s no shame in giving up on it, after all – it’s only a video game.
This idea of control can also be tied to our sense of achievement. When it comes to things like mental health conditions, phobias and other disabilities, there never really is an end point to the battle. No credits roll, no emotional cutscene plays and no satisfying conclusion tries to tie all the loose ends together for you. You’ve merely managed to leap over one hurdle on a racetrack filled with more and more challenges for you to face. Sometimes you fall but instead of respawning at a save point, that pain stays with you – you learn to live with it, to take what lessons you can from it and to avoid it in future.
Yet in video games, when those credits roll or that achievement pops – you feel you’ve accomplished something. The relief and sense of pride that floods your emotions after finishing a terrifying horror game is such a unique experience that it’s hard to really put into words. Whether you made it one level or collected every collectible in the game, you completed something that every rational part of human psychology would want you to run away from. That’s something to be proud of.
To all you horror gamers out there, I salute your bravery. However, I’m going to go back to hiding under my fluffy blanket and hurling my controller across the room at the slightest spook.
Till next time,
CaitlinRC.
