Games where you're always fucking lost

What we have here is a collection of games known for either being baffling in their entirety, or for having moments of acute confusion or disorientation. Games that make you question the basics, "Where do I go? Who do I talk to? Where's the next quest?" Games where you are, quite frankly, always fucking lost. And nobody wants that. We want to feel empowered, dammit, and in control. There are asses to be kicked and bubblegums to be chewed, and by golly we need to be told - in no uncertain terms - where to find ample amounts of each.

Today, most games either bend over backwards to ensure there's no way anyone could ever, ever get lost, or they make the act of losing yourself the hippy-dippy introspective point to whole game. This wasn't always the case. Travel back a decade or two and you'll find a cache of games designed to make your brain hurt. Whether out of spite, ignorance, or a desire to sell strategy guides, these games sure as shit weren't going to do you any favors. And first up is one I'm sure many of you will recognize because of it's brutal reputation

You want to talk about feeling lost? Myst is the undisputed heavyweight champion of making you feel woefully, hopelessly lost. Flip a switch on one side of the island and something MIGHT happen on the other side, just don't expect the game to clue you in. Don't expect the game to clue you in on anything. Countless people have spent their childhoods waiting for the internet to take off just so they could figure out what the hell you're supposed to do in this game.

Your adventure begins on Myst, a lush island with a penchant for Grecian architecture. There are switches, levers, and other contraptions scattered about, and if you don't mind reading through a few novellas worth of backstory you might find a clue to help you get started. Or you could post, like, 600 tweets in the same amount of time, your call. The real kicker is, what most people think of as Myst is just a hub world. That's right, there are numerous other worlds you have to visit - each with its own set of brain-melting gizmos - before you can finish the game.

I think you all know where I'm going with this. That's right: the caves. And not just any old caves, oh no, I'm talking about those special caves that are, like, three floors deep and require you to use flash to see where the hell you're going. Flash. What a useless move that turned out to be. Now I have to substitute out one of my super-cool-fun-to-use Pokemon for a sadsack Voltorb that knows flash. Have fun being useful for like two seconds there buddy, because after that it's back to BILL'S PC. Forever.

But let's get back to the caves. These hellholes typically feature a puzzle - say, pushing boulders down holes - that involves an ungodly amount of backtracking. It doesn't help that every floor looks exactly the same, devoid of landmarks. And there are no maps. Instead, you get Zubats. Fuck Zubats. What starts as a minor annoyance quickly reaches nightmare-levels of frustration once these little sonsofbitches learn Confuse Ray. Now I can't even grind XP reliably because my pokemon keep hitting themselves. I just want out of this cave, leave me alone Zubat!

Blaster Master is great game, but also a classic Where the hell do I go? sort of game. You know the ones, where the game just assumes you magically know where to go next, maybe because you purchased the strategy guide (ask your local retailer today!). You play as a boy searching for his mutated frog in an underground labyrinth. Oh, and you also drive a tank. I mean, how else are you going to find your frog? I miss the '80s.

Blaster Master actually shares a lot in common with the later Castlevania and Metroid games. The levels are giant, open spaces spanning several screens that you can backtrack and explore however you want. There are also several doorways where you can exit your tank and travel to an entirely new area on foot. Back in the '80s it was basically doing Metroidvania before Metroidvania was cool. What's not cool is that no one knew what metroidvania was back then, so we spent our time driving around shooting at stuff and feeling like we were always going the wrong way.

Before we begin, you should know that I love Silent Hill - especially the first one - but goddamn this series isn't kind to the fresh meat. It all comes back to the map, which is really less of a map and more of a cruel joke. Getting to, say, the school may seem easy on the map, but in reality every street leading there is blocked off by a giant hole in the ground or a car crash or an insurmountable waist-high fence. Damn you insurmountable waist-high fence! Your character will jot down these obstacles as you discover them, which really helps reinforce the fact that you're completely screwed and have no idea where to go.

Once you finally reach the school or the hospital or the whatever, things don't get any easier. The game arms you with yet another comically out-of-date map that doesn't account for the fact that every door in existence is either locked or broken or both. Have fun reading "The lock is broken, I cannot open it." over and over while trying to find the chemical you need to burn off the old man's hand and get that gold medallion (yes, that's a real thing).

Yeah, yeah. Ocarina of Time is arguably the best game ever and it won all these awards and it could've cured polio had it been given the chance, but let's talk about the Lost Woods and the Water Temple for just a second. I know the Lost Woods has 'lost' right there in the title, but it is a maddening bit of trial-and-error. For me, the supposed audio cues didn't work well enough to navigate by on my crappy CRT television, meaning I had to edge forward and peer deep into the screen to see exactly what shade of black was ahead in order to figure out whether I was headed in the right direction (or about to get warped back to the start). Ugh.

Then there's the Water Temple, Satan's bathhouse. Why must water levels always be the bane of a video game player's existence? As with most things in life, the Water Temple isn't so bad once you know the route, but that first time out it's a real kick in the dick. Thought the game was too easy? Have fun playing this complex water management simulator for the next two days. Adjust the water. Explore a room. Adjust the water. Explore a room. Oh, and make damn sure you don't miss any keys, otherwise that's another few hours of fun undoing (and redoing) all the work you just did so you can backtrack.

I know I called Myst the undisputed champ at making you feel lost, but E.T. for the Atari 2600 is a close second. This cold, indifferent, shell of a game is bad in all the ways a thing in this world can be bad. It is made from actual game parts - sounds, graphics, player inputs - but sucks all the life out, leaving a dry and wrinkled husk more withered than E.T.'s rubber face (sorry buddy). All you do is walk around, collect dots, and fall down holes. ARE YOU FUCKING EXCITED YET!?

Every so often, a man wearing either a yellow or grey trenchcoat will appear and chase you. If the yellow one catches you, he'll steal your dots. If the grey one catches you, he'll drag your ass to jail (which you can immediately exit). And they keep coming back, always chasing you. This game is so cruel. What do you want from me, trenchcoat men? What are the dots for? Why is there no music? WHAT ARE THE DOTS FOR? WHY DOES THE GREY GUY KEEP PUTTING ME IN JAIL? WHY IS ANYTHING ANYTHING? WHAT ARE THE DOTS FOR!!?

I'm sure there are countless other examples of games where you felt as if you were always fucking lost. If you've got a good story, share it in the comments. I'm sure another reader out there will share your pain.

And if you'd like to get lost in some more great GR content, be sure to check out The saddest video games that will actually make you cry and 8 boss fights that are way different from the rest of their games.