OK, quick little fact check on Ryan: I’m a boxer, so I can handle pain. I routinely get punched in the face and have no problem with it. I’m also a thrill-ride lover – the bigger, faster, scarier the roller coaster, the more I love it.
But when it comes to things from the horror genre, I am a self-admitted chicken. I just can’t do it. Haunted houses in Halloween, even though I know it’s all fake, leave me with two options, namby or pamby. I had to watch the first two Saw movies through squinted eyes with my hands over my face through most of the movie; I didn’t even bother with Saw III through VII. If the Zombie Apocalypse ever becomes reality I’m going to live the longest because I’m going to hole up in some abandoned non-assuming deli with just me, as many jars of peanut butter as I can get my hands on, and an old-skool Game Boy with A/C adapter and Tetris. Heroic stuff? Screw that, this ain’t The Walking Dead. Just me and blocks falling from an olive-green sky.
So when I tell people I’ve played Amnesia: The Dark Descent, I really mean I played Amnesia: The Dark Descent for about thirty minutes, then ran to my bedroom and hid in the fetal position all night. It’s scary. Not “Ooh look out grotesque monster shoot it in the head” scary. More like “If it smells in here, it’s because I just poo’d myself” scary. Amnesia gives you very little weaponry, very little music, very little light, and a whole lot of time to think, “Holy crap, what was that?”
So what made me watch the trailer for the sequel, Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs, at quarter to midnight on Halloween, in the dark, by myself? Sheer f**king stupidity.
Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs is slated to cause terrifying, sleepless nights beginning in 2013, but if you’re really looking to truly be part of the Machine, thechineseroom is looking for little “piggies” (that’s you) to provide “sounds of fear, panic, terror, anguish, torture and horrid awful death” in WAV or MP3 format to email@example.com to use in the game soundtrack.
I wonder if they’ll take an MP3 of me peeing myself in fear.
Wait, no, I mean… I’m good, bro. I’m cool.