Creepers Delight, a fond look at the Silent Hill franchise.

Walking down a foggy street, a flashlight in your jacket pocket, a radio clipped on the front you see a feral-faceless figure approach you. Twitching, squirming, spew
ing-slobbering and your radio hisses a white noise you’ve never experienced. You back up, the cold air sinking into your lungs as feel true terror crawling over your skin and filling up your heart. A knock. You’re on the ground, the darkness seeps in over your eye-lids as you see what can only be described as horror peering over your failing form.
You just shit yourself didn’t you? Yeah, it’s called Silent Hill.  It’s not a particularly loved series by everyone, but those that love having the living Hell burnt into their souls-It’s the best.
I know that Silent Hill: Homecoming came out awhile back, but I’m just now really getting to play around on it. No, this isn’t a review of that particular game-this is just a fond look back at the series that made me shit my pants more than Gary Busey.

1999 people experienced fear for the first time in a video game like no other, the walked the streets of the horror-capital of the world, Silent HIll. Seeing the heavy fog, the thick darkness and making hardly any sense in their grumble of how amazingly horrifying it really is I started out with little urine left in my body and most of it on the outside. Then again, give
me some credit-I was only nine.
Playing as Harry Mason, a man in search of his daughter, you made your way through the creepiest thing pixels had to offer 11 years ago. Fighting “thing” after “thing,” you eventually made your way to a hospital which ruined you for life from the doctor and eventually fought a gigantic moth thing. Cool.
Then Silent Hill 2 came out, oh great! I get to play as James Sunderland, a murdering rapist who has a thing for leg-monsters and torturers with big knives and spears wearing Pyramid hats. Now that was horrifying until I got the absolutely adorable Doggy ending.

Heather, of SH3, battling her "dark-self," Alessa

A few years pass, and after some hard-earned DDRMAXX playing I was ready to take on the most grisly thing: Silent HIll 3. Silent Hill 3 you get to play as a teenage tart who’s face slightly resembles a daughter from yesteryear that a certain protagonist saved, that or grilled-swiss cheese. Eitherway, you get to play as the tease mocks around the town sticking her hand in toilets, fighting spider-dogs, fat-blumpkins called Cancers or tumors or something like that. Oh, and there’s this whole cult thing going on that gets you all preggo with Arm Daddy’s water-headed-miracle-demon baby that you eat at the end of the game. Tasty.
Then the room comes out, where you play as the voyeur-ristic favorite, Henry Townshend who has been spying through a peephole at his hot-to-trot neighbor getting raped by a murdering psycho-path who kills a whole lot of children, women and retards throughout the game. Oh! And guess who’s number 21 on his list? You. Ain’t that quaint. Anyway, eventually you get to see your neighbor’s face going all spook-eyed and such on a wall as you protect her from getting touched inappropriately (when I say inappropriately, I mean bad even by Silent Hill standards). Oh yeah, you fight the same things you did in the previous games save Pyramid Head, he’s off raping something.
Oh, and something that you’ll love is the creepiest soundtrack ever, shredding whatever sanity you have left in that pea-sized head of yours, the master of nausea Akira Yamaoka will make you not sleep for days. It’s awesome.
Yeah, I just shit myself too.
I haven’t played the other games but sweet Jesus,  I do love this series. I highly recommend it to those with heart-problems, diabetes, stomach-pains, retardation, and to those less than 12 years old or those over 70.
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