Note: This post contains spoilers for Resident Evil (2002), Silent Hill 2, Outlast and Haunting Ground.
Horror games are obviously intended to scare players. A horror game that isn’t scary has pretty thoroughly failed its objective. Some games, however, have segments that go above and beyond and really stand out in their ability to make the player feel vulnerable. You’re never in any real danger when playing a video game, so creating real tension for the player can involve some interesting tricks.
Anyone who reads my blog likely knows that the original Resident Evil remake is my favorite video game. I love the exploration, puzzle solving, resource management and variety of enemies to contend with. One part in particular has always stood out to me as a great way to make the player feel vulnerable long after they’ve gotten accustomed to the mechanics. Late in the game, in the final secret laboratory that nearly every Resident Evil game seems obliged to include, you must restore power to an elevator to proceed. It’s not as simple as flipping a switch, however. The process involves taking an empty fuel capsule from one room and backtracking to another to fill it with fuel, then lugging the capsule back to its original housing. The issue is that the fuel used in the capsule is described as a nitro compound that will explode if shaken or jarred too much. You must carefully walk the refueled capsule back to its starting point without engaging in combat to make sure you don’t accidentally blow yourself up.

It’s a short but effective sequence because it’s one problem in the game you can’t solve with your weapons or by running away from it. Did you leave any enemies alive on the path between the two rooms? Better hope they don’t grab you on the way back. Even after beating the game many times, I’ve slipped up at this part and forgotten about an enemy that was hiding on the ceiling, only to get grabbed and have Chris automatically use a defensive grenade to subdue said enemy, killing us both. I only recently found out the game uses a mix of RNG and set values to determine if the capsule will explode in a given situation. Running for more than 3 seconds will always cause it to explode, but getting grabbed by enemies or using weapons is a gamble between living or dying. Regardless, it’s still the part of the game that always makes me the most nervous during no-save runs, because it completely throws out your character’s proficiency with weapons and general amped-up strength as a special forces operative.
Haunting Ground is another Capcom game that has sadly been left behind on the PS2. It’s one of those games that goes for a small fortune online thanks to a small print run (at least in the US) and no modern ports. I’d love to see a re-release but am not confident it will happen, as the game revels in making the player feel vulnerable from start to finish by placing you in the shoes of a young woman being terrorized and sexually harassed by assorted stalker enemies. It’s pretty divisive among people who have played it, with some finding the game’s themes off-putting while others think it’s effective horror. I fall into the latter camp but can see the reasoning of the former, personally. Despite the entire game being designed to make the player feel uncomfortable, there’s one especially effective gameplay twist late in the story.
Early in the game, protagonist Fiona befriends a dog named Hewie (who players may recognize as the same dog model used in Resident Evil 4), and he becomes a great AI companion. The game uses a pretty cool system wherein you train Hewie to be an effective companion just like you would train a dog to do anything else. You can give him various commands, such as searching areas and attacking enemies, and need to either praise or scold him depending on whether or not he followed them. How well you train him will make the game easier or harder, as he’s a valuable asset for finding items, detecting traps and getting away from pursuing enemies.
At one point late in the game, Fiona and Hewie become separated while lost in the woods. You have to follow the sounds of his barking to find him within an undisclosed amount of time. If your relationship with him wasn’t at the top level prior to this point and you fail to find him, or your relationship was already particularly bad, you get locked into the worst ending the game has to offer. Being separated from Hewie after you’ve been given plenty of time to get used to depending on his help provides some high tension, amplified by the forest where you lose him being a maze. I remember playing this section for the first time and frantically running around trying to locate the source of the barking, fearing if I found him too late he’d be dead. It’s a smart way for the developers to shake up the gameplay formula after players have become comfortable.
One of my favorite spooky bits in gaming comes from Silent Hill 2. I’ve written about my love of this horror classic and this specific sequence before, but it bears repeating here. In each area of the game, you find a map that can be pulled up anytime as long as there is sufficient lighting for protagonist James to read it. He will also occasionally make notes on the map and highlight key locations. It becomes its own little companion of sorts, always being there for you when you need to catch your breath and take stock of your surroundings. All of that comes crashing down around the halfway point of the game.

As the journey starts to take some bizarre turns and James starts questioning reality, the player is thrown into a strange maze. The area consists of a top floor of bare walls and floors, as well as a lower level that is partially flooded. You have to traverse this area using ladders to move between floors and doors that lead to new hallways, but the whole thing is very confusing thanks to the samey visuals and compounded by the presence of monsters, including the invincible Pyramid Head. Worst of all, your map is completely gone. There’s no map to pick up here, as the area doesn’t correspond to anything in the real world of the game. Open your map screen at this point, and you’re greeted by a blank sheet of paper. As you move through the labyrinth, James draws his own map. It may sound silly to someone who hasn’t played it, but this part of the game was deeply unsettling to me the first time around and actually remains my most dreaded area on replays to this day. It’s easy to get lost and accidentally run into Pyramid Head around a corner. It’s also just a good example of a horror game ripping away your security blanket. I never thought a hand-drawn map could be so spooky, but here we are.
Finally, I think Outlast has a pretty effective way of making the player feel vulnerable. Like Haunting Ground, it’s not for everyone thanks to some edgy and crass subject matter. It’s also one of those “hide-and-seek” horror games that many horror fans (including myself) have gotten burned out on over time, but I found it scary enough back in 2013. The gimmick with this game is that you step into the shoes of a journalist investigating a tip about corruption and abusive practices at a secluded asylum, and as such brought a camcorder to document your findings. You can bring up the camera at any time, and often need to use its night vision mode just to see your very dark surroundings. It runs on batteries that must be replaced periodically by finding new ones lying around the building, and the night vision even dims as the battery level gets low. This isn’t the scary part, though.
A good while into the game, protagonist Miles drops the camera down a hole. Not the least predictable thing that could happen, admittedly, but the following segment where you have to run around in near-darkness without it works to make you feel positively alone. Like the map in Silent Hill 2, it’s a security blanket for the player that gets taken away abruptly. Making matters even worse, the camera is damaged by the fall. Upon recovering it, players will notice that the screen bears a large crack in one corner that distorts the image. The camera will also occasionally glitch out, with the screen flickering and distorted audio playing briefly, for the rest of the game. It’s a nice way to startle the player even after a key item has been lost and found.
Horror game developers have many tricks up their sleeves to make players feel helpless and vulnerable. There are probably many more examples than those I’ve discussed here, but these moments stand out in my memory as effective ways of shaking up the spooky factor. The common element here is that all of these games found a way to take something away from the player late in the game, once they were already accustomed to the gameplay loop. I suppose this could become a tired cliche if used too often or telegraphed too much, but I enjoyed it in all of these games.