The weight of paranoia grows heavier as each hour slides by. Their lifeless gazes at a camera or through a doorway packs serious uncanny valley vibes, and they excel at toying with my sanity with their incessant smiles and raspy moans.įiguring out the travel and behavior pattern of each character is critical for making it through multiple nights, but that sense of security only goes so far when victory relies on temperance rather than luck. That doesn't mean the bulbous-eyed antagonists aren't scary in their own right. Where FNAF separates itself from its jumpscare-heavy ilk is a near-overwhelming fear of the threat of a jumpscare. The tools provided handily net victory with smart use. It feels unfair from the start-enemies are mobile while I stay put, no weapons, and crappy visibility-but that's all it is: a feeling. That's a clear example of how FNAF masterfully leverages the knife-point balance between rational decision-making and panicky flailing. Just when I was sure of being eaten alive, the clock struck the hour, and I could hear a bunch of kids cheering my success. The wait wasn't the excruciating part knowing I was helpless against a murderous electronic bear standing a scant few feet away from me kicked in some serious fight-or-flight queasiness in the stomach. I waited for my grisly end with quiet dignity and a brain screaming against my skull to ohnohelpmehelpmehelpme. A few seconds later, and the tune abruptly cut off into silence again. Absolute silence-until I heard a music box version of “Les Toreadors” tinkle away with Freddy's toothy grin lighting up in one of the doorways like a twisted Cheshire. I didn't meet an immediate game-over, but the room plunged into darkness, the fan sputtering to a stop. I caused a couple of white-knuckle moments early on after zealous use of the doors depleted the battery right at 5 AM. It's so easy to make mistakes in judging the amount of battery life left to use. But you can't just turtle by keeping both doors closed indefinitely, as switching on lights and locking doors puts extra strain on the battery and drains it faster. The walking suits won't enter the office right away if they get close, which is enough time to shut a door and block their entry. It's a first-person horror game, but the boogeyman jumping out of the closet isn't its payoff-it's the creeping buildup of dread watching that doorknob slowly turn. Those brilliant moments during my five hours playing it typically came after I fought down the urge to curl into a whimpering ball of tears and sweat.
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It turned my sense of awareness against me, relying on my mind tricking itself to override logic. I wonder again how I would ever think taking a nightwatchman's job at a children's pizzeria was a good idea.įive Nights at Freddy's gets clever with its simple presentation. Two small pinpricks of silvery light-they're unmistakably eyes-return my stare from a dining room blanketed by shadow. Outside, I'm being hunted by a gang of animatronic animals bent on jamming my head into their smiling maws.
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The security office I'm in barely surpasses a shoe closet in size. I'm tracking my doom through the fuzzy static of a whirring camera.