Let’s face it, I get scared easily.  That’s why I don’t play that many horror games, and I only watch the tamest of scary movies.  In fact, one of the only scares that doesn’t really affect me anymore are jumpscares because FNAF has pretty much desensitized me to it.  (Except for jumpscares I’m really not expecting.  Then I still jump.  And get scared.)  But if I was going to narrow down the types of scares that get me the most, I’d have to go with two choices: being chased, especially in confined spaces, and enemies that move when you’re not looking (that’s why I absolutely despise the Weeping Angels from Dr. Who).

To illustrate how effective these scares are, let’s take a horror game that many people don’t even consider to be scary.  Five Nights at Freddy’s: Security Breach.  The neon-lit Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex looks like a place I’d actually want to visit.  And I’d love to meet the majority of the animatronics that reside there.  So clearly the game failed to terrify me if I’d place its setting high on my list of fictional vacation spots.  But there were several occasions where the game actually managed to deliver on scares, and they pretty much all revolve around the aforementioned “things that terrify me” from paragraph 1.  That’s right, I’m done padding this post.  Let’s get right to the spookies!

To reiterate, I hate being chased.  And I mean hate it.  I literally dread that early portion of Final Fantasy 8 where you get chased by a spider robot.  And that’s definitely not a horror game.  I’m currently on my second playthrough of Security Breach, and I am really not looking forward to dealing with DJ Music Man again.  He’s a giant spider animatronic with a humanoid face.  And you have to run from him at one point.  And to illustrate just how big he is, he’s literally strong enough to throw arcade machines at you.  It’s, understandably, a terrifying experience that I don’t look forward to repeating.

There is only one thing worse than being chased by a giant spider robot, and that is…being chased by a much smaller spider robot.  In a vent.  No, seriously, I hate being chased in confined spaces even more than I do open ones, and this happens quite often in this game because the vents are infested with little Music Men, who are incredibly creepy, just like their larger counterpart.  But now you’re in a narrow space and have absolutely no wiggle room.

This is also what makes our encounter with Moon (the Daycare Attendant’s nighttime personality) so terrifying because he can follow you into the play structures (it’s like the McDonald’s Play Place) while you’re attempting to activate the generators in order to turn the lights back on.  When I first played the game, I had no idea that he would follow me into such a confined space, so I felt relatively chill about the whole ordeal.  And either I was just incredibly stealthy, or he was glitched, because he never posed a problem.  Well, I knew better during my second playthrough, so I was now fully aware of what I could potentially be facing.  I remember heading for the third generator (he’s far more merciful up until this point) and pausing to remind myself, “Hey, Duck, once you activate this generator, that cackling jester out there is going to come crawling in here on all fours like a spider.  Are you sure you’re ready for this?”  Well, I wasn’t, but I did it anyway, and I learned firsthand just how terrifying this part of the game truly is.

There’s also a generator where he can easily cut you off from your exit, as there’s a decently long span where the maze is only one-way.  As if this thought was foreshadowing in some sort of horror novel, I turned around to find Moon slinking down the one path I could possibly take.  Long story short, I miss the days when my game was glitched, and he left me alone.

Oh, but that’s not all, because this game also contains my absolute least favorite scare in all of horror.  Things that move when you’re not looking.  Whether it’s Dr. Who’s Weeping Angels, SCP-173, or the mannequins in Little Nightmares 2, I am just incredibly unsettled by things that stand perfectly still…and then speed at me as soon as my back is turned.  In Security Breach, there are robotic endoskeletons that fulfill this chilling role.  Not only do they look creepy with their skeletal, metal frames and their big, staring eyes, but they’re fast, and they seem to enjoy being in particularly dark and creepy places, like the corridors in Parts and Services and beneath the Fazbear Theater.  A few even decided to stalk me in Bonnie Bowl, a place where I really wasn’t expecting them.  I checked the place out thoroughly, or so I thought, and then next thing I know, I turn around, and one of them is RIGHT behind me!  Then again, the endoskeleton’s big, dumb presence might have also accounted for why Chica couldn’t fit through the elevator door and murder me, so…  Maybe they’re just…misunderstood?

No.  They’re creepy, and I hate them.

Security Breach wasn’t scary, huh?  Well, it seems to me this game’s scares were specifically tailored to give me nightmares.  Though as far as the other animatronics are concerned, at least they have the decency to hunt me to my face.  Roxy might emotionally abuse me with hurtful comments before magically teleporting across the room and finding my hiding spot.  And Chica might corner me in a bathroom and then just stand there, quietly weeping, in a bizarre and unsettling fashion.  But at least they have some class about it, you know?  Unlike those endoskeletons, who prefer to do things behind my back.  I’m a simple person.  When I’m being hunted by murderous animatronics, I’d at least prefer them to be less sneaky and underhanded about it.

Long story short: don’t you ever, under any circumstances, chase me!  And don’t freeze up the moment I look at you, either.  It’s weird.