Exploring Freeware Horror #1 -Euthanasia

So I basically forgot that I even have a blog, as I have very little free time to spend writing this sort of thing. I think this is my first post in a year and a half, so apologies if anyone was eagerly awaiting it (I don't think anyone really was).

I'm going to do a small series of posts on different games, and I'll try to keep them a bit short, but knowing me I'll probably fail at that. Mainly, I want to make observations about the games from a horror game design perspective, and use what I see as examples of different topics in design that are worth discussing.

I try to routinely track down new games to play, and I decided to look in the direction of freeware indie horror titles thanks to this list and a few others. My goal is to explore as wide a range of gameplay experiences as possible for my own design edification, but I figured that it would be kind of fun to share this stuff with the world and give a bit of an evaluation of the game.

#1 - Euthanasia

Euthanasia

Download:
http://www.fileplanet.com/216538/download/Euthanasia-Client-(Free-Game)

*WARNING: POTENTIAL SPOILERS AHEAD*

PART 1. THE GOOD

Sound Design

This game does a pretty solid job of setting an ambient soundscape. I consistently jumped when I heard a creature, and that has a lot to do with the ambient sounds helping build tension and the audio having some really solid kick when creatures start coming into play. I think this game plays really heavily on the benefits of absence when building horror tension, as the placid chill of the soundscape pays off with unexpected shock.

I can't show you sound in a screenshot, but trust me, it's there.

Sound is the most visceral way to hit someone in a horror game, and really requires varying levels to be effective. A game that is constantly shocking you with loud noises isn't going to do very well. Euthanasia hits this one well, frequently sending chills up my spine with the eerie noises that pierced the quiet. From near silence to piecing shrieks, low droning hums rising in pitch before getting startled by the slamming of a door, the audio is extremely effective at getting you blood pumping and your mind racing.

The one thing that's humorous, however, is the shameless use of zombie moans from Resident Evil 1 and other sources, some of which may actually have origins even older than the games they were taken from (since early RE games had pretty heinous use of stock sounds). The design of the sound is well executed though, so I'll let this one slide.

Darkness

Due to the limitations of an engine like FPS Creator (as well as likely a creative choice), the game doesn't feature any flashlights or visual aids outside the environmental ambiance. Recent horror games have had a very strong focus on carrying light sources, and obviously our upcoming game Grave is no exception, featuring largely light-based combat and weaponry. A game like Euthanasia, however, uses the absence of these elements to really great effect.

Implements like flashlights give you a funneled view, only giving you a solid look at things that are close to the center of the frame. When used properly, this can create a sensation of claustrophobia or discomfort, as you start to worry about what might be just outside of your "Cone of Comfort."

The area outside of the flashlight's radius is the unknown, while the light zone inherently feels more "safe"

The difficulty with elements like this, however, is that they tend to give you control over what you see and what you don't see. A person armed with a flashlight is never fully in the dark, and seeing what you need to see is generally as simple as looking that direction, particularly if the game is first person. The Cone of Comfort is like a protective ward, preventing you from feeling fully vulnerable. You'll quickly be able to see and react to what might be in the shadows if you just look.

Darkness is a good thing in horror.

A game where you do NOT have a flashlight introduces types of scares that you can't fully prepare yourself for. Walking into a dark corridor that you can't see clearly is a special type of horror, because you have to actively take actions that could put you in danger. This hits on a really visceral, fundamental type of fear, as well. The realization that something horrible was just nearby and you didn't even realize it can hit really hard, really fast. I had quite a few moments in Euthanasia where I was walking towards something that made me very uncomfortable, and I kept itching to press that flashlight button. Not having it definitely contributed to my discomfort, and I think more games need to observe this.

Fast Moving Enemies

This is one thing that many indie games have excelled at, including Afraid of Monsters and Cry of Fear. It's really not that complicated; enemies run at you in a fevered frenzy and are generally faster than even you are, sometimes at alarming speeds.

It is genuinely unnerving to see these things running towards you.

Several times you encounter creatures who are disturbingly quick and chasing you, and this gives you little time to react. This element hits on both a visceral level and a subconscious one, as you're both afraid of getting harmed and extremely unnerved that something could move in such an unnatural manner.

Misdirection

Euthanasia has deliberately misleading environment elements, and the game's general calm does a good job of helping your imagination run wild. There are multiple times in Euthanasia where a dead body or form in the environment is specifically designed to look like the monsters you fight, and this simple tactic does a lot to keep you on edge.

The thing on the right is visible all the way down the hall and looks like an enemy. It's actually just a corpse. The real enemy is waiting to give you unexpected bowel movements when you get close.

The use of these striking elements in gameplay is in stark contrast to what you see in the majority of big budget horror games, where the presence of dead bodies and blood tends to be a form of "environmental texture," essentially blending into the background and escaping your conscious awareness. After you have seen your 40th body in Dead Space, it's really hard to see them as anything narrative-driven or worthy of note, even if they will occasionally be hiding a jump scare.

"Wow, that blood sure does look nice with the floor texture! Oh yeah, another body..."

Games operate in this strange region of cognitive responses that activates artificial filtering mechanisms. Human beings do this with everything, but because the world is completely artificial, the player of a game has to take subtle cues from the environment and context to rapidly define the game's boundaries. This is most evident when you watch the difference in play styles between experienced gamers and occasional or casual players. Games are typically filled with lots of "noise," such as audio or visual effects, environmental details and accents that don't really serve any functional purpose in the game world. People who are used to this concept will quickly figure out what is and is not threatening, what signals item locations and what doesn't. Conversely, less seasoned players tend to take things at face value, and this can routinely lead to frustration. If you've ever watched a less savvy friend trying over and over to open a door that is only meant as an environment decoration, you've seen this in action.

This type of filtering is unavoidable and will always vary by player. What is really interesting though, is that much of what large games do to illicit "horror" experiences in players gets sorted into the wrong side of this filter for an experienced player. Dead bodies aren't jarring in a game where they are simply part of the background. We've already seen tons of blood before. However, if a game can do something surprising, such as resurrect bodies as Crimson Head zombies in the Resident Evil remake, suddenly the player has to emphasize that element in their mental model of the universe. It's not simple "texture" anymore, it's important and potentially life-threatening.

I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person who needed a new pair of pants after realizing that "Crimson Heads" were a thing in the REmake.

Euthanasia proves the point that you don't need elaborate mechanics to keep the interaction with the environment intense. Visual misdirection is a phenomenal way to get this kind of feeling on the cheap, and the game does a good job of keeping your heckles up when you enter a room, walk down a corridor, or glance at what looks like a figure standing near the door.

PART 2. THE BAD

Bugs

This isn't something I generally want to ding games too heavily for, but I have to give fair warning. I wasn't able to get past level 2 in my first session, as the loading screen hung up. I finally did get past it with a patch which hilariously didn't fix the issue, but includes save files for the start of each level, effectively allowing me to bypass the load screen. This happened a couple times but didn't actually cause me to lose content, only time. I'd reach a loading screen, get hung up, and have to load from the save after restarting the game. This DID mean that I wasn't able to fully experience the difficulty progression, as I could waste ammo and still know I'd have a renewed stockpile from the checkpoint.

I'm pretty familiar with this screen as the loading bar takes a vacation at the end and never comes back.

There were other issues as well, such as a finicky jump mechanic combined with pits of death, leading to failed jumps and general disappointment, as well as enemies dying in an looping animation state or dying while standing. most of these were fairly slight, but they were also fairly regular.

I wish I hadn't had these issues because it took me out of the experience a few times, when I was really getting into it. I know this was done in a limited tool (FPSC) without much capacity for bug-fixing, but It's a shame to see these rough edges temper the experience.

Exploits

Related to the above, this is another topic that I feel is a bit unfair to bring up with an indie title, but is still no less important. There are many, many situations where the environment can be used to exploit the behavior of enemies in Euthanasia. They frequently get stuck on objects, sometimes don't know what to do when you shift elevation, and will walk in place, allowing free blows. This can be one of the hardest things to stomp out, and we've certainly had our share of it in Grave to deal with. The problem here is that you only get one chance to build a cohesive, credible, frightening world for the player. Once something happens that spoils that illusion, it's VERY hard to come back from.

This guy is actually stuck, in the middle of the hallway, walking against an invisible collision error. Like a boss.

In our games, we've found that it can be beneficial to somewhat "cheat" in situations that create challenges for the AI, by simplifying the pathfinding system or level layouts to accommodate the AI better, by introducing long range attacks for creatures if they can't get to you, or even by creating behavior that allows them to teleport to new locations when they can't get to you.

This isn't always possible, but one thing that is worth noting is the impact of animation and "implied" purpose. Everyone knows that a character walking into a wall is bugging out, and that can be immediately immersion killing. However, setting up an AI fallback for when the creature can't move can do a lot to prevent this from seeming accidental. If a creature, for example, has a random possibility that it will occasionally stop moving and start shrieking and flailing as if having a seizure or experiencing its own internal demons, this can be an incredibly unnerving process to watch, particularly if the player sees this as some sort of character trait in the monster. Getting enemies to run away can be challenging with certain pathfinding solutions, but can be used to help a creature move out of a bad spot, or to provide a tension building moment of confusion as the player has to figure out where the creature has gone. Games like Euthanasia have gaping holes where techniques like this could have been used to make up for its shortcomings. That being said, a game made in FPS Creator definitely has more challenges with AI and some of this may not have been feasible.

Scripted Jump Scares Only Work Once

Euthanasia relies entirely on reactions to linear, scripted gameplay segments. These present no variation and really lose their bite once you've been exposed to them once, which is sad.

Some of them are truly great scares; I walked through a doorway as a loud ambient hum was rising only to get charged by a huge beast from out of a dimly lit corner. It was really effective, because there had been several similar corners preceding it that had featured no threat, and the mental model I had built was telling me that those corners didn't contain monsters. It had the double benefit of using the rising audio as a distraction, with a creepy painting above the doorway drawing my attention and blinding me to the attack I was about the experience.

Do you see him? BECAUSE I DIDN'T! The first time, anyway...

Here's the problem, though. I died. Once dead, I proceeded to move forward with the exact same gameplay and experienced the section over again, only this time turned to the corner where the creature was and immediately began unloading with my most powerful weapon. The game is built around actual threats to your life and safety, but oddly enough, the least scary thing you can do is die.

This, like many of Euthanasia's flaws, isn't specific to the game in question. In fact, most "traditional" horror games have this flaw, as do many other games that have a generic approach to progression and death; it's just not that fun or satisfying to redo something after failing. This problem is exacerbated in horror because the genre thrives on unpredictability. You have to be afraid of the unexpected to maintain tension.

What shooters look like without the magic

In game design, the fundamental interaction with a game system is usually loosely broken down into a chart like the one above, which maps out the interaction. These "user experience loops" can be from a really big picture (Start level > Move to end > Defeat boss), or the very small scale (Aim down sights > fire > Reload), and they tend to give you an idea of what the actual series of steps are for the player in your game.  This is important because, as much as you might HOPE that players will interact with your game in a certain way, there's no guarantee until you've stress tested it. If your game resets your ammo at the end of each level, for example, the section of the loop above, "find items," might be invalidated and functionally removed from the player's behavior. The same could happen if players find that it's easier to simply run past enemies instead of shooting them; the interaction is no longer what you intended, and possibly the best part of your loop gets removed.

The core problem with jump scares is that, when graphed as part of an experience loop, it looks something like this:

A good idea of how much gets cut out of a jump scare after the first time through.

there's a large set of steps that gets completely cut out once the player already knows what to expect. This is a good example of what can happen if you don't factor in death and retries when planning out the experience loop. This is one area where Amnesia excels, as does any game with a procedural element to the scares. Euthanasia is not so lucky.

Certain genres of gameplay heavily reward trail and error, training players to learn new experiences and improve their skill set. The problem in horror is that this is effectively the antithesis of what you want the player to experience; you want them vulnerable, not prepared. The more time you spend getting them acclimated to the experience, the less likely they are to get scared, as they build confidence and skill in confronting the game's challenges. The longer someone spends retrying a difficult section of gameplay, the more likely they are to stress test it and push the boundaries of what is possible. Most players will attempt multiple variations of a strategy after repeated deaths, until they find a chink in the armor of this otherwise frightening encounter. Once they've acquired that knowledge, it is very unlikely that you will be able to engage them the same level of interaction.

Zombies opening doors as you walk up can be unexpected and creepy, but not if they do it the same way every time (also, this game has lots of pinups for some reason)

On a deeper level, death is actually quite a let-down in a scary situation. Without getting too philosophical, death is the complete end of the experience, in both games and life. The stress and tension come from the anticipation of the event. Once it's actually happened, it has "revealed" itself to you, and it is likely to be easier than you thought. This is particularly highlighted in games like Euthanasia; even if you lost progress, you now know exactly what to do to avoid that particular pitfall, and returning after the death is an exercise in subtle course-correction instead of discovery.

In modern horror, we're starting to realize that the sweet spot for players is where the anxiety is high but the actual risks are substantially lower. Euthanasia, like many, many horror games, is a victim of the incorrect assumption that death is the scariest thing that can happen, when "perceived threat" is probably much closer to the truth.

The "Gun" Problem

This is hardly unique to Euthanasia, but is worth addressing since the game is actually in the minority as an indie horror title that includes a full arsenal of guns to play with. Guns are inherently at odds with horror. Horror is best when the audience feels vulnerable, whether it's a game, film or scary story by the campfire. There's a reason that none of the best horror films (The Sixth Sense, Alien, Jacob's Ladder, The Exorcist, etc) feature much in the way of weaponry. Even popular slasher movies typically have an angle that prevents weapons from being effective, such as Freddy Krueger existing only in dreams or Jason being an unstoppable juggernaut.

If he can't be hurt, what are you supposed to do to get away?

Think back to the first Nightmare on Elm Street, and one of the first things Freddy does is cut off his own fingers. This self flagellating is extremely purposeful; it says that he is invulnerable, that anything you might do to defend yourself would be useless. This hits on a gut level, because human beings like to feel as if they're in control. The more control you take away, the more likely you are to produce an emotional response.

Horror games, particularly those of the AAA variety, have long struggled with this issue. Players expect to be scared, while simultaneously having an arsenal of increasingly effective weapons to use against the undead hordes. The two ideas aren't very compatible; either you're scared, or you're slowly becoming more empowered as you go. Very rarely do those things go hand in hand. Worse yet, making the guns weaker doesn't increase tension in most cases; it just make the game more frustrating.

Remember that scene in The Blair Witch Project where they grabbed a gun and shot Rustin Parr in the face, then left safely? That was the scariest part.

So, what's wrong with guns? There's a lot that could be said about this, and the great Thomas Grip of Frictional Games had a fantastic GDC talk on building fear in Amnesia: The Dark Descent. His summary is great, so I suggest checking it out. I have a couple things I want to add to it.

One issue with guns in a horror game is that they tip the balance in favor of the player at a structural level. Regardless of enemy behavior patterns, weapon damage and ammo availability, guns give you a spatial advantage against your opponents. The weakest gun can still whittle away enemies at a range that they can't effectively strike you, and this creates a form of a protective barrier through distance. The more movement options you have, the more skewed in your favor this becomes. This imbalance is especially true in Euthanasia, where all the enemies are close range fighters. The issue wouldn't really be fixed by adding ranged attacks from enemies either, as the more distance you cover during combat, the less you can take advantage of the fear that personal space invasion illicits. Zombies vomiting on you from across the room aren't quite as scary as zombies biting your face off.

This guy is way more intense up close than he would be at a distance, possibly lobbing an infinite supply of femurs at you.

The second, and possibly more substantial issue with guns (and weapons generally) is that they give you a way to completely eliminate a threat from the environment. Dan Pinchbeck has described this as the process of simplifying complex environments by removing agents until there is essentially no challenge remaining, then moving on. This works well for a sense of completion but poorly for a sense of tension. Euthanasia tries to offset this, as many games do, by spawning more enemies during backtracking or at unpredictable times. However, the very existence of and need for guns is reiterated in these situations, as you get the chance to engage in more combat and a further "simplification" process. The only real risk is if you run out of ammo, but this is a pretty fuzzy limitation, and skilled players will generally be able to game the ammo stockpile and have more than enough to work with. I made a short video talking about this and other issues a while back.

Guns give the player agency, and this is something many indie horror titles lack. I appreciate the effort Euthanasia makes to keep the game scary while still having weapons. Yet I can't help but feel that the presence of this arsenal is more based around convenience than any real necessity. Games with guns have more happening in them than games without them, and if you don't have guns you need something else to fill the gap.

PART 3. THE UGLY

WTF is that?!

I really just have this section because I'm a fan of Sergio Leone, but I figure I can use it as a "wrap up" for what I think can be taken away from Euthanasia. On the whole, it's an interesting experience that doesn't offer anything too terribly unique, but that still uses its elements well to produce a sometimes chilling, sometimes repetitive experience with horror psychology. I was genuinely unsettled through much of the experience, and there are several moments that are quite jarring.

It's definitely worth a play, but keep in mind that it will likely not be finishable in one sitting without a reset. I think the strongest takeaway is that, when compared directly with other unsettling indie horror games (Erie, Paranormal, Slender, Imscared and others), the weaponry and combat in Euthanasia do more than a little to hold it back. I don't think this suggests that we should eliminate weapons from horror games, but we need to keep in mind that firepower is constantly a friction force against fear.

When I get to Cry of Fear, I'll discuss some of the ways that it succeeds where Euthanasia fails in creating tense combat scenarios. The two games have a lot of overlap in intention, so it will serve as an interesting comparison.