We’ll be honest. We had pretty much naff all idea what was happening during most of this Silent Hill. The game kinda lost us with the ‘magic hole in a bathroom transports reclusive main character to other places’ concept. While we might have been put off by the premise and the strange first person sections, there’s no denying it contained some eye-offending imagery that scarred our souls.
Above: Mostly involving demon children
Corridors smeared in blood and filled with monstrosities, which would like nothing more than to force you to play Twister with the Grim Reaper, is chilling. And the fear only gets escalated when the child form of the serial killer you’re trying to escape turns up and starts acting as a quasi guide. That’s right, you team up with the unbearably creepy sprog version of the very man who’s spent most of the game trying to kill you. Great Scot, that’s so confusing we can feel the space-time continuum almost collapsing in on itself.
Above: The last time we were this confused standing in a corridor, it was watching the only Matrix film that didn’t make us want to scrape our hearts out with a trowel
If there’s one title that loves a good creepy corridor, it’s the game with the needless and obnoxious full stops. The entire friggin’ shooter is seemingly made up of nothing but endless hallways. Now, while we’re well equipped to deal with the odd poorly lit corridor, with the occasional creepy noise thrown in for good measure, we’re far less equipped to deal with demon children in red dresses.
Ahhhhhhh! Kill it! Kill it! The paranormally-powered Alma loves to try and psyche you out throughout the corridor-intensive FPS. And by ‘psyche you out’, we mean levitate shit at your face until you’re as stone cold as Elvis. She also makes you hallucinate at several points throughout the game, usually when you’re walking on the beach sucking on a piña colada. Eh, when you’re strafing through a corridor. Really, the only thing scarier than a hallway with one terrifying kid, is a hallway with two of the little f*ckers.
Above: Bartender? Yeah, I'll have a red rum, cheers
We’ll gladly give the Cyborg Ninja props where they’re due. The dude sure as shit knows how to hack men to pieces with a katana. You know what he’s not so hot at? Subtlety. In what must be the most telegraphed attack of all time, and despite his stealth camo, the ninja probably alerts Snake to his presence when he oh, we don't know, slays about fifty soldiers in a corridor, leaving their corpses behind like a trail of blood-stained breadcrumbs
Above: Mmmm, tasty
Still, passing through said corridor, having to step over the bodies of the recently deceased soldiers is damn unnerving. Especially when one guy stumbles around a corner meekly muttering about how he’s just been offed by a ghost. The ninja’s malfunctioning exoskeleton also makes a really unsettling otherworldly noise as you pass down the hall. And frankly, off-screen otherworldly noises do our horrendously unhealthy games jarnalist arteries no good at all. Snake, old chap. If your old army buddy ever gets resurrected and then, y’know, pieced back together. Try to act surprised if he ever tries to jump you in the world’s most obvious stealth attack.
The corridors near the top of snuff film director Starkweather’s mansion in Rockstar’s infamous torture ‘em up ain’t exactly suited for the feint-hearted. Mainly because they’ve got a sociopathic serial killer running around them with a pig mask, who likes to squeal as he eviscerates folk with his massive chainsaw. That, and the wallpaper is just so 70s.
Manhunt’s Pigsy fight is perhaps the most disconcerting moment in the game. Trying to keep your nerve while the sounds of his revving implement of death synch up with a mega oppressive score is really hard. Every time you find the courage to break from the safety of shadows, and walk into a corridor to lure out the killer, it's genuinely nerve-wracking. And when you hear that chainsaw revved into full, disembowelling gear? To quote a horrible Italian American stereotype: forgetaboutit. In all seriousness, though, the corridors’ grimy decorum is more off-putting than the fat, fetish-loving murderer.
Above: Forget the lethal Leatherface/pot bellied pig tag-team. We’re more scared by the state of the walls
October 27, 2010
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