Michael Stamper is an aspiring writer with a hopeless addiction to overthinking the intricacies of game design. He currently resides in Tampa Florida with an exceptionally wonderful dog named after the black mage from Final Fantasy IX. He is also a lover of all things Silent Hill, Resident Evil and horror related.

Fear is a feeling that alerts one to danger, potential threats, or pain. It is a part of an evolutionary mechanism that ensures survival whenever a harmful or stressful situation arises (Adolphs, 2013). Over the years, survival-horror videogames have used various methods to instill fear in players through a combination of ambiguity and tension. These games are often set in asylums, ancient cathedrals, abandoned towns, and haunted houses. Because of their grotesque and sometimes hostile appearance, these areas make for a very uninviting setting, especially when intimidating entities like monsters and ghosts are added. While decaying architecture and an ominous brooding atmosphere are a driving force for survival-horror games, the ocean floor can be equally effective at producing fear. Many classic survival-horror games evoke terror with the use of shadows and areas of isolation. Large bodies of water fit perfectly with this formula, as the ocean’s depths reduce visibility and its lack of human life can help intensify the feeling of isolation. Furthermore, water adds resistance when moving or swimming in it, reducing a person’s speed compared to movement on land. This hindrance, in turn, makes evading harm a much greater challenge.

 This same train of thought can be applied to video games which feature water, because water levels usually introduce mechanics that impede one’s advancement, which can result in player frustration. I argue that submerging players within the furthest depths of the ocean can help advance survival-horror design, because the lack of control and the feeling of being overwhelmed make better sense in an environment meant to intimidate and frighten. I start by illustrating how water works in video games by describing how it influences mechanics in a digital environment through its impact on the gameplay of certain water-based levels. I then describe how the aforementioned use of ambiguity and tension are fundamental features of the survival-horror genre, and conclude by speculating on how water can be further used as a potentially innovative tool to help expand the genre. 

How Water Works In Games

Even in games that fall outside the survival-horror realm, water can still encapsulate a sense of unease, even if it’s not the main focus. The property of water usually reduces the mobility of player movement and speed. This in turn shifts the flow of movement into something outside of what the player has grown accustomed to. Games that feature this gameplay paradigm can work very well in a horror setting when retreating to safety is made more difficult. 

 In early 2018, video game developer Rare released the action-adventure video game Sea of Thieves (2018). The game allows players to assume the role of a pirate sailing the seas in search of adventures that involve oceanic battles and treasure hunts. With the game’s inclusion of The Hungering Deep DLC (2018), players are given the opportunity to go head-to-head with a massive megalodon. My first encounter with the megalodon came when one aggressive jostle sent a friend of mine overboard into the watery home of the oversized monstrosity. While swimming back to the ship, he repeatedly shrieked in terror as the megalodon began circling his path. The fear differed significantly from the stress experienced while on the ship. 

According to Thierry Steimer (2002), uncertainty is fueled by “situations lacking in clear indications of situational contingencies or likely outcomes are associated with considerable stress” ( pp. 233). The megalodon’s speed greatly outshone that of a player controlled character, which in turn gave it the clear advantage of this situation. This is illustrated in Steimer’s (2002) paper when they state: “The uncertainty regarding situations highlights a lack of control that contributes to feelings of anxiety and makes coping more difficult” (pp. 233). 

Like Sea of Thieves’ megalodon, the Jolly Roger Bay stage in Super Mario 64 (Nintendo, 1996) features a similar swimming monstrosity. In this level, the player must traverse a sunken pirate ship, caverns, and hidden caves within an underwater layout. The level is composed of colorful shades and hues, and accompanied by a calming melody. The peaceful atmosphere is diminished once the player makes their way to the water’s deepest sector. At this depth, an infamous eel lurks within a nearby crevice and, when provoked, slithers its way into open water, chipping away at Mario’s health if any contact is made. For a game comprised of cheerful melodies and level design layered with brightly rendered color palettes, the foreboding nature of the eel provides a shocking tonal shift. 

The earlier and later levels of Super Mario 64 also feature enemies in the same vein as the eel, like an oversized haunted piano, or the chain chomps, which are essentially a large orb with eyes and razor sharp teeth. While their size varies, they’re all meant to be massive enemies that are impervious to damage, and are best avoided. These encounters don’t evoke the same level of surprise, because Mario can still bypass them with ease. It was water that restricted the player from being able to deal with the eel the same way. Just like swimming back to the ship in Sea of Thieves, traversing any body of water in the Mario universe doesn’t flow as smoothly as the game’s drier portions do. On land, Mario possesses the ability to run, dive, kick, punch, crawl, double and even triple jump. Abilities such as these allow Mario to avoid or dispose of enemies with ease. Once underwater, Mario can only stroke and flutter to move, becoming more susceptible to danger. The advantage Mario has on land outshines what he can do when swimming, ensuring a more defensive position for the player when submerged.

 

 Both the megalodon and the eel are designed to illustrate that they pose a threat but were never meant to strike fear in the player as survival-horror games do; the environments described above never aimed to encapsulate a scary ambiance. Now take the same elements of surprise that the eel and megalodon provide and apply it to a survival-horror game, and there lies a great mechanic to instill fear.

 

The Importance of “The Unknown”

The first crucial element of  a survival-horror game is that it creates uncertainty within the player. Nicholas R. Carleton (2016) defines the fear of the unknown as “an individual’s propensity to experience fear caused by the perceived absence of information at any level of consciousness or point of processing” (pp. 5). Being unaware of what potential horrors may be waiting underneath a staircase or behind a door further intensifies the sense of dread. Carleton (2016) considers the unknown to be the “fundamental fear” in creating anxiety induced situations, thereby providing a suitable method for producing scary scenarios (p. 39). The fear of the unknown has also been an effective principle in how horror films lull their audiences into the feeling of unease. To this point, author Bruce F. Kawin (2012) argues that:  

Within the black-and-white horror film there is nothing so rich and suggestive as a well prepared area of black, a shadow in which one can barely make out what is happening or in which one can see nothing. We can fill that black with everything we fear, or we can let it characterize as dark and dangerous what can be glimpsed in it, what remains hidden in it or what emerges from it. (p. 46)

  

The same train of thought can be applied to horror games, as it’s important the player never loses a sense of uncertainty. The impact of the scare is weakened once the player grows accustomed to what danger lies ahead and knows the proper method in how to handle it. Just like in horror films, video games that shield the player from knowing what’s happening in front of them can be used as a ploy to help drive the effectiveness of the scare. Chris Pruett (2016), lead programmer of the horror game Dead Secret (Robot Invader, 2015), mentions in an article in GamaSutra that for the player to feel scared they must always be wary of what may lie ahead: “To scare our players we need [them] to believe that [they are] not in control, that the rules may change on [them] at any time, and that [their] read of the game is fundamentally incomplete.” Empowering the player with heavy weaponry or repeatedly putting them against enemies they can easily deal with familiarizes them with what’s supposed to scare them. Although the core gameplay may never change, the scenario in which the player is placed should generate some unfamiliar concepts, like changes in the environment or enemy types and encounters. 

In trying to maintain a sense of ambiguity, some game developers have turned to the unknown depths of the ocean to craft a horror-like ambiance. The ocean’s vastness and its harsh conditions can help play into the unknown when constructing virtual worlds meant for exploration and infested with unsettling creatures.A game that exemplifies this notion well is Subnautica (Unknown Worlds Entertainment, 2014). 

In Subnautica, players find themselves exploring the expansive waters of an alien planet known as 4546B. The game starts with the player being tasked with gathering resources to craft supplies retrievable within the game’s many environments, while maintaining their oxygen and hunger levels, all necessary for their survival. The starting area of the game is a safe haven that teaches the basic fundamentals on how to survive, consisting of a brightly colored overlay and non-threatening wildlife. This provides a false sense of security, as the mainstay of the adventure is more daunting.  In order to further the narrative, the player must charter into more treacherous waters obfuscated in darkness. After the game teaches the player the basics, it is up to them to piece together how to survive. It is unbeknownst to the player as to what creatures are a threat until coming within a relatively close proximity, prompting them to cautiously manage the distance between themselves and many of the game’s life-forms when exploring.

The game’s Reefback Leviathan, for instance, can make players timid as its massively sized bioluminescent body, equipped with three terrifying tentacles, makes its way into view, but then will appear more passive as it shows no interest in player activity. The more serious Reaper Leviathan, on the other hand, possesses a slimmer body with pointy fins, and a large horn adjacent to an angry looking facial structure. 

These creatures in turn circle their prey before striking, or drop in at unsuspecting moments. These encounters intensify when combined with the player’s crushing feeling of isolation from human activity while stranded helplessly in areas with limited visibility. 

The ocean-like environment is what helps reinforce the ambiguity, as the watery depths obscure what may lie ahead. The player’s vulnerability is further heightened when the openness of the environment paves the way for enemies to strike at any angle, making the descent just as dangerous as resurfacing. 

 

Tension

Another key feature to the survival-horror formula comes from tension. Tension usually refers to the state of suspense brought about by mental fatigue before the horrific climax. Tension in survival-horror games is the psychological weight of experiencing the danger when it finally strikes.  

In order to amplify tension, survival-horror game designers use a plethora of approaches in order to direct the player to fixate on a scary scenario, and apply gameplay mechanics that disempower them. Once submerged, the player’s advancement is impeded, and the ability to fight and flee with ease is greatly reduced. This in turn forces the player to rely on alternative tactics to avoid enemy confrontation at all costs without the ease of powerful weaponry at their disposal. The tension factor is then heightened when the player is surrounded by aquatic life-forms which can easily outmaneuver them from any angle, giving a clear advantage to the enemies.  

 

 An example of survival-horror tension in an underwater setting is Narcosis (Honor Code, Inc, 2017). The premise of Narcosis puts players in the role of an engineer working in a research center at the bottom of the ocean. During the aftermath of a violent earthquake, the player is left stranded as a lone survivor and must use any means necessary to resurface safely. Because of the ocean’s limited visibility, Narcosis is easily able to create scares by obscuring the player’s vision, minimizing light sources, and enshrouding the environment in darkness. 

The combat revolves around the usage of a small knife when dealing with deadly predators like squids and spider crabs. However, the water slows the knife’s animation upon use, making the player more vulnerable to harm. As the game progresses, the larger versions of the spider crab are immune to damage, which in turn forces the player to bypass them entirely and strategize the best way to handle these encounters without the means of harming these creatures. As a survival-horror game, Narcosis succeeds at burdening the players’ movement and disempowering them, as the first person view is centered around a diving suit built to withstand the pressures of the deep sea. It makes sense for combat to be inefficient and movement to be impaired when the thunderous footsteps the suit makes denote that the player is encumbered and weighed down. 

Conclusion

Survival-horror video game designers must never lose sight of the anticipation and tension release cycle when aiming to produce fear. Frequent bouts of downtime helps the player assume something unsettling can happen at any moment. Game mechanics that hinder player mobility or reduce visibility result in player frustration rather than engagement in games that fall outside the survival-horror genre. If more designers take the same set of elements that draw ire from water levels in non-horror games and swap out the setting with something more fear-inducing, (for example,an environment that is dimly lit, below sea level, and surrounded by creatures that can easily out-maneuver the player), then one may produce a unique set of ingredients for a compelling survival-horror game. 

Games like Sea of Thieves and Super Mario 64 may have involuntarily shown how the mechanics of water can be a potent source for employing scary experiences, whereas Subnautica and Narcosis further emphasized how terrifying these scenarios actually are. The survival-horror genre evolved over the years by introducing control schemes that weakened player movement, fixed camera angles, or necessitated using stealth to avoid danger. Water, by contrast, can bring attention to these elements by allowing danger to strike from any angle, whereas land provides a relatively safer haven that doesn’t emit the same level of exposure to danger. As gamers, we have seen a vast array of survival-horror games set in abandoned mental asylums, spooky looking cathedrals and desolate towns, so why not develop more games set in the vastness of what scientists have barely managed to explore? What lurks within the darkness doesn’t always need to be a ghoulish monster or an axe-wielding murderer. It’s time for us to get off of the land and explore the mysterious depths of the overwhelming majority of what our planet consists of.

 

References

 

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Buchanan, J. (2022, September 8). Swimming vs. running: A breakdown. Swimming World News. Retrieved September 30, 2022.

 

Carleton, N. R. (2016). Fear of the unknown: One fear to rule them all? Journal of Anxiety Disorders, 41, 5–21. 

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Hudson, M., Seppälä, K., Putkinen, V., Sun, L., Glerean, E., Karjalainen, T., Karlsson, H. K., Hirvonen, J., & Nummenmaa, L. (2020). Dissociable neural systems for unconditioned acute and sustained fear. NeuroImage, 216, 116522. 

 

Kawin, B. F. (2020). Horror and the horror film. Anthem Press. 

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Pruett, C. (2016, January 15). The mechanics of tension. Game Developer. Retrieved September 30, 2022.

 

Petsko, E. (2020, June 8). Why does so much of the ocean remain unexplored and unprotected? Retrieved September 30, 2002.

 

Robot Invader. Dead Secret. Microsoft Windows, 2016. 

 

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University of Turku. (2020, January 24). Horror movies manipulate brain activity expertly to enhance excitement. ScienceDaily. Retrieved September 30, 2022.

Unknown Worlds Entertainment. Subnautica, Unknown Worlds Entertainment, Microsoft Windows, 2014.