One of the most commonly known symptoms of both autism and aspergers syndrome is the inability to emphasise with others and to express emotions in a rational manner. I myself suffer from this symptom heavily. Feelings such as anger, sadness and fear (foreshadowing) are feelings that I, like many others, have trouble expressing. In particular, I try my absolute hardest to shut off these emotions.
The concept of what can be considered as "true fear" varies from person to person. While I'm certainly no psychologist, I would assume that fear can be attributed to hormones within our bloodstream, namely adrenaline. Adrenaline plays a crucial role in triggering a fight-or-flight response, which often goes hand in hand with horror games, but it normally tends to trigger flight more than it does fight. One game that truly helped me understand fear was the newly released remake of Capcom's 1998 survival horror classic - Resident Evil 2.
Now, I wouldn't say that I'm a Resident Evil fan, but I wouldn't say that I'm a stranger to the series either. The last Resident Evil game I played before this one was the previous installment, Resident Evil 7: Biohazard, but I didn't really get much out of that in terms of fear. One too many Texas Chainsaw vibes for me to take seriously, to be totally honest. But this game actually managed to make me something that arguably no other game before has truly made me: Scared. But not in the way most of you would think.
This game certainly was a first for me. As stated, I have multiple issues with expressing certain emotions, which includes fear. Due to this, I tend to stay away from horror games and obvious rage games, because, to me, they don't invoke the reaction that they want to get out of the average person. But once I actually took the time to immerse myself in the game, I could actually say that I was quite damn frightened. The jumpscares didn't really get much out of me aside from a slight jolt (Fucking door-busting zombie cop), but what really got me was the multitasking that came from certain scenarios, combined with the helplessness you feel when you don't have the suitable resources by means of defending yourself with. One moment towards the end of my day one playthrough (Which lasted up until the first boss fight with William Birkin) was in the police station. One puzzle required me to detonate some C4 in order to access the final medallion needed to open up the secret passageway. Detonating the C4 ended up not only knocking over a shelf, barricading me inside of the room, but also attracting a Licker. Now, this shit got my heart racing like a greyhound that has been forcefed skittles laced with speed.
For the record, I had no ammo left for either Matilda (Handgun) or my shotgun, I had no knife, and no healing items, and I was also stuck in a room with what was currently the most dangerous, non-boss enemy in the game. This is what triggered something I'd consider unusual for a video game. My heartbeat got faster, my breathing became more irregular and heavy. However, this feeling actually made me think: On instinct, I used the only "weapon" I had on me at the time - a flashbang grenade. This barely stunned the Licker for long enough for me to unblock the door and escape the room before it came back to it's senses.
That one scenario ended up making me experience what I would consider to be true fear. Not the paranoia of when the next zombie will jump out at me, not the gloomy darkness of the police station, just constant, heart-racing adrenaline. This game makes you it's bitch, and it wants you to know that you're helpless. And the best part? I loved it. I loved every second of the last two to three hours I spent playing this game, I ended up loving that surge of adrenaline I got as I saw Leon slowly but surely move this shelf as this horrific mutant creature regained it's consciousness after being hit with the only feasible weapon I had left. I want to feel that again, especially after ending it on a particularly gruesome boss battle...
Eyes don't belong on biceps.