Startled, Afraid, Terrified, and Horrified…
by Gordon Olmstead-Dean
These are a few of my favorite things. For the past eight months, I’ve been one of the writers and full time GMs for a local area campaign called 1936: Horror. While our campaign is generic 1930s horror, "Cthulhu Live" published by Fantasy Flight Games, has made "Horror" into a standard LARP genre.
Running a horror
LARP is a challenge. Horror is one of the most subtle and difficult
forms to pull off when one has total control of the audience in
a cinema, or through written media. Managing to horrify thirty
to forty roleplayers is a big task to bite off.
First, decide
what you want to do. Terms like fear, terror, and horror
get thrown around interchangeably, but they can distinguish significantly
different things. There is also a difference between feeling any
of these and feeling startled. A lot of GMs tend to bundle
those things together, and view them interchangeably. Partially
that’s because of the movie industry which classifies films which
involve any one of those elements as "horror" thus placing "Psycho"
in the same genre as "Dawn of the Dead."
I’ll attempt
to illustrate the differences, and give examples of how you can
bring each of these emotions crawling up the spine of your favorite
group of roleplayers.
Startled
Filmmakers know
that the easiest gasp to go for is the one that comes from being
startled. Being startled causes an adrenaline rush which is in
itself quite addictive for some folks. The "rush" of being startled
doesn’t have much to do with "fear" in the real sense, other than
in a sort of abstract competitive way.
Being startled
is what happens when the monster jumps out at you and you jump and
run away, though you almost immediately know who is in the costume,
and are not actually under the slightest apprehension that you are
in any danger.
Trying to keep
away from the monster gives the same sort of sensation as playing
dodgeball, or trying not to be tagged out in baseball. It’s an
adrenal rush, but not one in which there is any real emotional involvement
other than the abstract value assigned by the player.
The problem
is that being startled wears off for many players. The adrenal
rush is never the same as "the first time." Thus you get the phenomenon
of players who go to a game, have a great time, and then have a
less good time on every return visit. The adrenal rush, which was
enough to give them a good weekend the first time around, wears
off. Players who are always able to get somewhat of an adrenal
high out of being startled may not understand why it "stops working"
for others. GMs who got a great response the first time they did
it don’t understand why it "stops working" for their players.
Almost as much
of a problem is that it doesn’t wear off for some players.
Just like the athlete who always gets a thrill out of trying to
steal a base, there are adrenaline junkies who always get
a thrill out of running from the monster. It works from them, and
they honestly cannot understand why it stops working for others.
They want more and more, so when GMs digress along other paths and
don’t continue to provide the same experience, they feel let down.
A few weeks
ago I ran a very successful game which built fear by startling players.
Late at night skeletal hands surprised players by scraping at the
window, and skulls peered in. It was very effective. However,
if I did the same thing next month, it wouldn’t be as visceral.
It might seem so at first, between curiosity and a handful of people
who missed it last time. But sooner or later, it would become merely
dull, then actually annoying.
Startling players
is a great tool for Horror GMs. If paced well it can place them
in a suggestible state of mind, and make a commonplace costume or
effect seem much more dramatic. If put in unusual places it can
keep up a mood of suspense. But it must be used sparingly
or it ceases to have any effect.
Fear
Very few things
in LARP actually scare players. Being in genuine fear requires
a feeling of being out of control of the circumstances, along with
perceiving some degree of threat. The threat can be known (we may
all burn to death) or unknown (something may be lurking in the dark).
"Fear" is almost
too large a category to be useful, because it encompasses two rather
different emotions, which I’ll identify as dread and
terror. Dread is the anticipatory fear of events
known or unknown. Terror is the fear of something that is actually
happening, often because it threatens loss of life. It is easier
to evoke dread than terror in a LARP, because dread merely requires
the imminence of something bad, while terror requires that something
bad actually be happening.
Dread is the
feeling of fear when walking down the hall and waiting for something
to jump out of the closet.
Terror is the
feeling of fear when the axe wielding maniac or undead horror is
pursuing you.
There are problems
with evoking fear as either dread or terror in live roleplaying
games. Many players are unwilling to let go of enough control to
be in surroundings where they feel genuinely frightened. If they
do become afraid, they snap out of character. Fear is a very primal
instinct and many cases the player will want to assert control by
dealing directly with the GM and situation.
It is difficult
to create real dread, and even more difficult to create real terror.
The brain is a pretty crafty organ. It can tell the difference
between walking along a sidewalk and being told "you are on a precipice
with nothing below", and actually walking along a precipice
with nothing below.
Many situations
which would create terror are dangerous, or involve items or elements
such as fire which can be dangerous to use in a close quarters setting.
In movies, we
feel "sympathetic fear" we identify with the character and feel
fear through them.
Usually this
does not work in LARP because it is not possible to convincingly
create the circumstance with any degree of safety. We are hard
pressed to create the fear of hanging thirty stories above an abyss
without substantial threat to the player’s life. And the brain
is cheerfully willing to dismiss the best special effects we can
muster on a standard LARP budget.
Many players
simply do not want to feel fear. It is one thing to get an adrenal
rush from being startled, but it is another to actually be afraid.
A surprising number of people who claim to "enjoy horror" in movies
and other media actually like the adrenal rush of being startled,
and are really upset by or made uncomfortable by fear. They reject
fear as an experience.
If one player
in a group has a strong negative reaction, either during or after,
it can sour the experience of the entire group. Lack of control
and helplessness is central to fear, and if you poll a group of
LARPers about things that they most want to experience in games,
I am willing to bet that "lack of control" and "helplessness" will
not even be in the top forty.
The favorable
side to fear is that unlike being startled, which is really either
on or off, fear, especially dread, is something that can run at
various levels. Certainly you can be a "little startled" or "startled
out of your wits," but one way or the other it peaks and is over.
Dread has the capability to go from a small twinge in the back of
the mind to a massive gnawing certainty of doom, over several hours.
All that said,
here is what I have found is successful for creating fear in
games.
1. Fear
of being startled
It’s cheap but
true that startling players dovetails with fear. More sensitive
players especially may be more afraid of the monster jumping out
at them than they are when a friend in a costume actually jumps
out. So to a certain extent, creating situations that promise the
possibility of being startled can create a mild sort of fear.
However, this is at best a sort of low end "McDonald’s" fear. It
may be good to ramp up the atmosphere, but it is not what you should
build your entire game around.
2. Go
below the threshold – sound, smell, and other subliminals
The conscious
mind doesn’t fully control fear. Certain smells and sounds have
some ability to cut through conscious barriers and create an atmosphere
of fear. For example, unexpected noises, animal noises of certain
sorts, etc. Smells such as smoke may generate fear in certain circumstances.
However, these things are seldom enough to create terror in themselves.
They are good adjuncts. To some extent things that are quite out
of place help create terror, and those things if introduced subliminally
can be quite powerful. An unfamiliar or heavy scent may make a
tomb more cloying, even if the players don’t recognize it or really
associate it with something that scares them.
3. Complicity
Enlist the players
to help. As noted above, it is difficult to create circumstances
in which players are really afraid, without introducing elements
of danger. The best counter to this is that players who want to
experience fear – the sort who read Hitchcock and like it – are
willing to exercise substantial willing suspension of disbelief.
If you tell them what you are trying to do, and enlist their conscious
aid they will help scare themselves. Obviously there is some dissociation
here – you can’t start a scene and say, "in this scene you’re supposed
to be scared of the shambling mummy." However before the event,
and between events you can try to get across the mood, and enlist
the help of the players to try and psych themselves and others.
Beware, however
that some players are "anti-players" in this regard. They don’t
like to feel out of control and frightened, and will do what they
can to sabotage mood that makes them feel that way. Worse, they
accomplish this not by doing "in character" things (trying to break
the mood with a graveyard joke for example) but by dropping out
of character, or behaving in ways their characters wouldn’t. Complicit
players can help pressure them not to spoil the mood for others.
4. Mood
and the Macabre
Macabre elements
can help slowly build a mood. Of course one has to draw a fine
line between macabre, and humorous – the Addams family, despite
being chock full of stuff that should be scary, is merely funny.
In fact it’s anti-horror – it makes us feel superior and smug because
we aren’t afraid of these scary things. Even so, odd characters,
circumstances, and grisly things can, used sparingly, help create
a mood. The best things are simple, and not too elaborate, and
when possible different or new.
Certain types
of people or things are symbols that evoke mood. Look for those
that are effective. A plastic glow in the dark tombstone from Spencer
Gifts does not evoke a macabre mood in anyone older than five, however
a flower from a funeral wreath, dried and wrapped in a scrap of
old fabric, might be very poignantly evocative of death.
5. Using
phobias
Sometimes, you
satisfy yourself by scaring some of the players, by playing on phobias.
This is an area to use some caution, because you don’t want to cross
ethical lines here, and play cruel psychological games on people
(at least not without their explicit permission).
However certain
things do scare a wide cross section of people. Heights, insects,
reptiles, closed spaces, are all scary to a broad range of people.
There are some obvious other things which are likely to play on
phobias. Using these in moderation is a good way to cut beneath
entrenchment against fear.
Be aware, however,
that the invocation of an unexpected and visceral fear is one of
the things most likely to make a sensitive player drop character
and break the mood.
Of course phobias
frequently simply don’t do anything for a lot of players. Don’t
assume that because you are scared of snakes, you can put a lot
of snake symbolism, or rubber snakes in a game and scare someone
else. I’ve seen many scenes that fell flat because a GM assumed
that what scared him would scare everyone.
It is also useful
to avoid the "heebie jeebies" or "the creeps." This is a sort of
subcategory of fear that deals with tactile phobias. The fear of
being touched by a reptile for example. Very few people find the
"heebie jeebies" exciting or fun – they tend to excite revulsion
not fear. A GM who doesn’t understand the difference is
more likely to annoy his or her players than put them in a susceptible
mood for horror.
6. Disorientation
The GMs best
friend is disorientation. Something that would not much bother
you in your living room may be very frightening if you encounter
it in a dark room when you don’t know exactly where you are.
Disorientation
is difficult to create in LARP, because so frequently we use the
same space over and over again. "What is beyond the wall?" asks
the alarmed player. Well, if we know it’s "the laundry room"
it just isn’t all that scary.
Still it is
possible to disorient players in time, space and frame of mind.
A classic example
of disorientation in space is a trick Washington Area GM Mike Young
pulled for his "Dark Summonings" Horror campaign. He had his tech
staff build a rather long tunnel leading into his basement door.
The tunnel was built out of refrigerator boxes, and covered with
plastic to be light proof. I had been in the same room numerous
times through the hall door, but entering through a tunnel it did
feel different and more claustrophobic. Altering space, using unusual
methods of approach, disguising the walls or other features all
help with disorientation.
In a game I
ran about ten years ago, called Lifeboat, I did not permit
the players to have any working watches. They were disoriented
in time, and did not know when things were happening, and this helped
build the overall mood. Usually this sort of disorientation is
not possible. One reason that late night is scary is that we lose
our sense of exactly what time it is, and it becomes "the depths
of the night."
Finally, even
if you cannot play with time and space, you can play with frame
of mind. Doing things that throw the players off balance helps
make them suggestible to fear. Largely this consists of doing the
unexpected, or using unusual pacing, or properties, or even special
effects – for example loud noises are very disorienting.
7. Darkness
Darkness gets
a header all to itself. Nearly everyone is somewhat afraid of pitch-black
darkness, simply because they cannot see. Darkness also hides many
flaws. The costume or prop which looks shoddy in broad daylight
may appear much more realistic by candlelight, or in semi-darkness.
Dark confuses, obfuscates, and conceals. Use it whenever possible.
8. Danger
There is nothing
to create fear like having a real reason to be afraid. Ethically
it is important to inform players as to dangers, and to avoid placing
them in any real risk. Like most other areas, this too is somewhat
the art of illusion. Darkness, the mood, and attitude transform
a situation that is slightly alarming or carries an element of risk
into "danger."
While many recreational
sports do this all the time, it isn’t commonly done in LARP. Most
physical events trade some minor risk of injury (though very little
chance of death) for the accompanying adrenaline rush. Slightly
more extreme activities, which present some significant possibility
of injury, and an outside chance of death, are fairly common. Skiing,
snowboarding, parachuting, surfing, jetski, and BMX offer an experience
that is basically "controlled danger."
There are many
good reasons that LARP GMs shy from this. It is difficult to establish
which players are really interested in and few GMs care to weather
criticism. In the U.S., also there are insurance risks, and risks
associated with responsibility.
Also because
not all LARPers are athletic, many tend not to draw a line between
dangerous, situations in which injury might occur, and deadly
situations in which death might result (other than by freak accident).
While this can be useful for creating fear, it can also be a real
nuisance when players react to a situation presenting the possibility
of a cut or sprain as if it presented the risk of immediate and
horrible death.
Still the perception
of danger can make a relatively commonplace event very much not
commonplace. As people grow sedate and middle-aged, things that
seemed adventurous but not overly dangerous in our younger days
seem quite exciting, because they contrast so heavily with our day
to day life. It becomes comparatively easy to offer an experience
which is not particularly life threatening, but which has a strong
"flavor" of danger.
Horror
Finally, there
is the element of horror. Horror is a slippery animal to define.
It isn’t fear, because it is possible to feel horror without feeling
any sense of fear.
Many writers
have tried to put a finger on just what horror is. A commonly held
precept is that horror involves something that is inherently out
of place or wrong, just as fear tends to revolve around feeling
helpless or powerless. Let’s look at a classic example. It isn’t
horrible that Norman Bates is a "mama’s boy." It isn’t even horrible
that he kills his female guest at his mother’s instigation,
though it is startling, and his knife-wielding arm is
terrifying.
It is
horrible that the mother that urges him on has been dead for years,
yet he talks to her and answers back. The very normality of their
relationship makes the fact that she is dead horrifying.
Horror, however,
goes beyond being out of place. After all, much humor is built
on things that are out of place. Horror must at least have a macabre
tone. A fountain pen in a bowl of cottage cheese is weird, and
might even be funny, but it isn’t horrifying. A severed finger
in a bowl of cottage cheese is horrifying.
One quality
of horror is that it suggests many things that we cannot mentally
digest at the moment and may not even want to think about. It also
tends to turn beliefs we have upside down. Horror creates more
mental demand than we can deal with, but demands that we deal with
it immediately. The encounter in Hitchcock’s classic Psycho
with Norman Bates’ dead mother immediately challenges our confident
perceptions about the nature of the crime perpetrated, and impels
many understandings about Norman Bates and his daily life, none
of them wholesome or savory.
To my thought,
a quality of horror is that it suggests, but does not describe,
things we do not want to know. It forces us to think of things
that we don’t want to think about. Horror in this way is related
to dread, but is more focused – dread forces out mind to conjure
up terrible details. Horror provides a starting point and lines
to color between, but forces our mind to do the coloring of the
details. It stretches our mind in ways that are uncomfortable.
Lovecraft and
Cthulhu
Many modern
discussions of horror among those familiar with science-fiction/Fantasy
or roleplaying games eventually come round to the works of H.P.
Lovecraft. Inevitably it is suggested that Lovecraft is brilliant
because he forces the mind to fill in the details of things by an
absence of detail, by a mere suggestion or outline of detail.
However, this
misses one of the principal points of Lovecraft’s work. Though
he lived substantially after Neitzsche, in Lovecraft’s heyday of
the American 1920s and 30s, most people accepted the existence of
God, or at least an ordered universe. Even Neitzsche makes man
his central subject – he removes God, but the existence of the human
race is never questioned – it is the central theme of the universe.
Beginning in the late Victorian period, literature began to capture
the suggestion that man is not alone in the universe. Lovecraft
expanded this and his classic horror focuses on one idea. Lovecraft
suggests that man is unimportant. He presents a view of the universe
in which man is not central, in which the actions of man are in
fact no more important to the central beings of the universe than
the actions of a fly to a man. Moreover, he suggests that the real
point and action of the universe is no more comprehensible to man
than philosophy is to the housefly.
While that can
still be a rather numbing emotion if you let it grip you, it has
lost much of its kick in the cynical era of the postnuclear world.
We are inoculated to such an idea by decades of its repetition onscreen
and in writing.
This leaves
an interesting phenomenon in the form of "horror" fans who are really
fans of their ability to feel superior to horror. Providing one
does not tend to lay awake at night wondering how long time is,
modern man is fairly well inoculated against the principal horror
in Lovecraft, and therefore, his work is a fairly safe read.
While the idea
of being coated with tar and burnt alive makes Poe’s Hop Frog
still viscerally terrifying (through identification we experience
the terror), the Alien Autopsy generation finds Lovecraft’s
"Great Race" quaint and harmless, and his giant squid-god fanciful
but no more frightening than Godzilla. Thus a substantial number
of "fans" are not horrified at all, and basically express an enthusiasm
for macabre adventure stories in which their basic beliefs are never
really challenged. They believe they are superior, because they
read something deemed horrifying and aren’t horrified by it.
But it is the
challenge that makes true Horror. The sickening, sudden, inversion
of what we know is "right." "I ate whom?"
Unfortunately
this means horror is heavily dependent on the act of realization.
That sudden moment where everything falls into place and the gears
begin to spin. This is easier in literature than live roleplaying.
In The Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, Bierce can simply
bring us back to the present in such a way that within a few words
we realize that the entire narrative is but the death fantasy of
his protagonist as he hangs to death. To do this in a live roleplaying
context is a bit trickier.
There are two
ways to achieve such realization – forced realization and self realization.
Only forced realization works reliably in a live roleplaying setting.
Forced Realization
The obvious
way to achieve horror is "forced realization." Opening the cottage
cheese and finding a finger. There is nothing wrong with "forced
realization," however the results are seldom as significant.
The drawback
with "forced realization" is that it must be rather fast. Finding
a finger in the cottage cheese by surprise is horrifying. Opening
the cottage cheese and finding, as expected, a severed finger, is
merely macabre and possibly grotesque.
This generally
depends on players discovering things in such a way that they are
not obviously set up to be discovered. If it is fairly obvious
that a box contains a mummified human hand, there is nothing particularly
horrifying about finding it. And if it is not at all certain what
a box contains, but it is known to be something fairly odd and mysterious,
then it isn’t all that horrifying to find something grotesque, though
it may be shocking.
If, on the other
hand, it is perfectly obvious that a box contains, say, a hat, opening
it and finding a head is horrifying. However this requires a prop
that is not a dead giveaway (i.e. it is obviously made by the GMs
and has great significance),
Self Realization
The highest
form of horror is "self realization," where the individual realizes
and quickly propagates a horrible truth. At the end of the film
Soylent Green, Thorn screams "Soylent Green is made out of people!"
But how to get
such realizations across to the players, and in such a way that
they propagate them so beautifully?
The only answer
is craft. A carefully crafted set of clues, and an excellent group
of players to field them. Only experience and care can create the
moment of self realization.
Even more difficult
is to propagate it so that it spreads at once among a group of players,
with a significant number of them having the experience of the realization.
Self realizing
horror is a great goal, but often it is better to sacrifice it for
the "certain hit" of a forced discovery. Blown, it is often of
no use at all.
Here are a few
guidelines:
- It must be
something that both player and character genuinely find horrifying.
It is not enough for it to be horrifying in "game terms."
- The realization
must have some "final clue" which allows everything to slip into
place, but which does not demand a lengthy explanation when it
is blurted out. This requires writing on a par with good detective
fiction
- The targeted
player or group must be at least immersed enough to "go along"
with it.
Last Words…
We’ve looked
at being startled, and at fear, with its two forms
of dread and terror, and at horror itself. Startling,
causing fear, building a sense of dread leave players psychologically
open to horror. Understanding the different elements of horror
may make it easier to target them, and to piece together an entire
tapestry.
Likely it wouldn’t
be possible to have a game based on any one of these precepts –
they all need to be present, and to some degree to play off of one
another, for your players to have a peak horror experience.
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