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The twist you didn’t see coming: Scott Shelby is the Origami Killer.
If there’s anyone you can trust, it’s the man who’s good with children. Specifically, babies. Now, just look at the gent below…
Above: Brings a tear to the eye socket, don’t it?
Scott Shelby really does appear to be a thoroughly decent private eye. He’s got a slight problem with the sauce, sure. He’s also absolutely dedicated to his work. And all through his investigations to find the child-murdering Origami Killer, he’s never anything less than concerned, sympathetic and caring. So obviously, he’s the bloody killer.
Just how shocking is it, then? Like discovering Santa is an evil alcoholic robot who kills his reindeer and keeps all your presents for himself.
Look, how were we to ever know? It’s not like the really sinister truth was ever staring us straight in the fac…
Scary sex faces aside, Heavy Rain blatantly lies to throw you off the case with a big, fat, cheating curve ball. During a key scene, Shelby is investigating a lead with an old watch maker. While in control of the character, the ancient clock-fiddling soul is murdered off-screen, thus ruling out any possibility of Shelby being the killer.
Well, until the game decides to gloss over that little plot hole when it shows a little flashback of Shelby murdering the hell out of the old man, when his true identity is revealed.
Above: What's a little strangulation between bitter enemies?
To be honest, though, we can mostly forgive developer Quantic Dream’s deception. The identity of the Origami Killer was our main motivation for ploughing through the game. And the fact it turned out to be the character we empathised most with was fascinating. Eh, while also making us sound like creepy serial killers in waiting.
Yeah, would you kindly give yourself a little Men In Black-style memory wipe to erase the last few sentences from your noggin? Cheers.
The twist you didn’t see coming: “Would you kindly…”
Sweet Jiminy Cricket’s top hat do we ever love a good old fashioned magic word or control phrase. Throughout BioShock, protagonist Jack is aided by a resourceful chap by the name of Atlas. The Irish gent is only too happy to guide you through the ruined underwater utopia of Rapture via radio, after your plane takes an unfortunate dip in the drink at the beginning of the adventure.
Above: Would we kindly open this present? Hey, why not? Oh, we're drowning
At first, it appears like he’s giving you aid in exchange for you helping him to save his family. Hell, what could be more reasonable than that?
He’s so damn polite too. It’s all “would you kindly this” and “would you kindly that”. The man rocks such a sexy-ass Emerald Isle lilt over the airwaves, we’d never say no to him. After all, his requests are reasonable enough. “Would you run here? Would you fetch that?” No big.
“Would you kindly head to Ryan’s office and kill the son of a bitch”. For you Atlas, pal; anything. A few messy golf club swings to the semi evil founder of Rapture later and we are done. That was all pretty reasonable, right?
Just how shocking is it, then? Finding out you’re a werewolf and that night’s lunar activities ended with you eating your other half.
Lets backtrack for a second. Andrew Ryan not only built BioShock’s twisted, submerged city, he’s also your pappy. In a complicated turns of events, Jack is Ryan’s genetically modified son, who has aged into a fully grown man in just two years. After he was born, his mother sold him to a man called Frank Fontaine. Fontaine was Ryan’s biggest enemy and fought bitterly with the demented philosopher for years in a power struggle for control of the city. Turns out, Fontaine is none other than Atlas.
Above: Also, dude's a great big monster
Those seemingly innocent and polite requests? Straight up brainwashing. After his birth, Fontaine managed to bend Jack to his murderous will through the control phrase “Would you kindly…” He never had a family and instead, merely wanted to get your character to take out his biggest enemy.
Up to speed yet? Good. Because we think we’re having mild aneurisms after typing all that exposition. Anyhoo, the main reason we never saw this twist coming round the bludgeoning bend was it was so damn ingenious. That, and it was just a tad too highbrow for our slumped caveman brows to ever compute until the dastardly golf club-handled deed was done.