There is one emotional state that I've never felt in a game - fear. Constant, gripping fear. Ask yourself, have you ever felt truly afraid in a game? Have you ever felt for yourself the imminent danger that the player character is supposed to be feeling? I can't say I ever have.
Until now.
The player takes the role of Daniel, the main character who wakes up in a dark castle with no memory of who he is or why he's there. That's the entire setup, and the simplicity of this concept lends itself brilliantly to the sense of isolation that Amnesia conveys so well.
When you run the game for the first time Amnesia gives a few statements as to how this game works:
-You have no access to weapons during the entire game, you must use your wits to avoid or hide from enemies.
-Don't stay in the dark for too long. Staying in the dark reduces your sanity.
-This game is meant to be played alone in a dark room. Turn the lights off and put headphones on.
Amnesia creates the best atmosphere I've ever seen in a videogame. The wonderfully disturbing castle combined with subtle visual and audio effects are seamlessly woven together to create something terrifying on a level I've never experienced before. On top of the aesthetic, the structure of play is designed to ensure that the player is always on edge since there is absolutely no fighting back against the various enemies encountered. This prohibition on combat creates a sense of helplessness that challenges every video game instinct I've had burned into my psyche.
You see, the first thing any gamer thinks when encountering an adversary is, "how do I kill it?"
That is the lesson we've had pounded into us. No matter what, the player always has some kind of weapon to use against the bad guys. Even in 'stealth' games there's usually a way to take out or at least avoid a given enemy. We're always in a position of power, to a certain degree.
Amnesia is different. The player is completely defenseless against the horrors of the castle. My only recourse when encountering a scary-looking thing was to literally run and hide, and hope that they would go away.
The first time I actually encountered a monster, I ran and I hid. I wasn't thinking about killing it, I didnt look back to see what he looks like, I wasn't thinking about getting out of its line of sight, and I wasn't even thinking about how to get past it. I wanted to stay in my hiding spot in the dark where I felt safe. There was no thought other than "please just make him go away" crossing my mind. I could hear it getting closer every now and then, and sitting in the dark caused my character's sanity level to slowly drop, which in turn caused the screen to distort and cue disturbing sound effects.
That, my friends, is fear, and Amnesia is a game that invokes it like no other. The imagination is capable of dreaming up things that are more terrifying than anything conjured up on a screen, and Amnesia does an excellent job of screwing the player's imagination to a point where it exists in a constant state of abject terror.
Of course, that's not to say that hiding from some shambling monstrosity is all that Amnesia has to offer. The story and structure are brilliantly realized. The story is fascinating and is told through easily digested chunks scattered through the game. Read everything you find, and you'll be drawn into a chilling castle populated by a lone protagonist who is a bit off his nut and being hunted by shadowy somethings that are more than a teensy bit spine-chilling. Hints are also provided by flashbacks that regularly pop up out of nowhere.
Amnesia: The Dark Descent is undoubtedly going to take a place among the most frightening horror games ever made. It is a touch short, although you can't gripe too much about that given the cheap 15 euros price tag as an online download.
