Ever since I saw The Blair Witch Project, I have hated horror movies. While I regard the film as one of my favourites (The final scene still gives me chills when I think about it) sitting on the ‘edge of my seat’ really doesn’t appeal to me, and quite frankly I find it incredibly uncomfortable. Generally the most a horror film has to offer is the scare factor, so when the actors are terrible there’s no real reward for peeing my pants in terror.

The filmmakers are very clever in how they shoot their movies. The clichéd setups are there. The killer always comes back to life and checking the closet only results in the monster appearing once the door is closed. They create a feeling of tension that is just not my cup of tea.

So considering this fear of all things that go bump on my screen, I can’t actually tell you the reason for playing my first survival horror game, Resident Evil 2. It still seems a ridiculous decision to this day, but never the less I slotted the disc into my mates Playstation and proceeded to pull my character from the burning car wreck that split me from my companion.

Instantly I regretted my decision. The flames, the moaning of the zombies, the complete lack of weapons. What was I doing!? In horror movies the director takes all control away and sets you on a terrifying roller-coaster ride that you can’t get off. With my Playstation controller I took control of the action and quickly it became obvious that if I were ever in a situation where I had to escape from Zombies, I would be the one hiding in the boot sobbing until someone came to my rescue.

Years later, after I had ‘grown-up’, bought a house and completely vanquished any fears that I might have had as a boy I decided to try my hand at the original Resident Evil. It was the Gamecube version that I inserted into my Wii and it was at the insistence of a good friend of mine. “You’ve just got to play Resident Evil! It’s so incredibly immersive and the pre-rendered graphics are gorgeous.” Great, I thought. Finally I might be able to enjoy the genre that had terrified me so many years ago.

Quickly I realized how wrong I was. Before I go on, it needs to be said that I hadn't ever played the original Resident Evil. As mentioned previously, I started (and finished) on it’s sequel so I knew nothing of the infamous ‘dog scenario’ from the early levels of the game. These devil dogs that burst through shattered glass as I ran by them propelled me like a bullet back to the scared little boy that I once was. I froze and my eyes swapped sizes with my balls. I fumbled the controller as I tried to regain some composure. My girlfriend who was watching me over my shoulder began laughing hysterically. I managed to fend off the ugly beasts and made my way back to the typewriter. I saved, quit and didn’t return to the game for a week.

Ultimately I played about one third of Resident Evil, at one point I came across a locked gate and when attempting to open it a blood-curdling scream filled my surround-sound speakers. My character asked something like, “I wonder where this leads?” Who cares Fred!? Scooby and I are heading back to the foyer.

The first ‘Safe Room’ that I discovered was where I spent most of my time. The soothing music and the promise that no zombies or ghouls could enter was extremely comforting for me. From that point on I would edge my way along the story line, constantly returning to my haven to save, and eventually I ran out of typewriter ribbon. Pretty soon I gave up for fear of having a nervous breakdown. I went back to playing Super Mario Galaxy where everything was bright and friendly and I didn’t have to worry about Luigi popping out and scaring the shit out of me.

Some time later, again upon the insistence of that same friend, I tried my hand at Resident Evil 4. Both my friend and the reviews I had read online assured me that this was the greatest adventure game of all time. My brother gave it to me for Christmas and boxing day I clicked the disc out of it's ominous looking white case, slotted it into the drive and apprehensively started upon my journey. Now, while it was obvious that they had turned down the Terror knob in favour of cranking up the Action knob, the tension was still there. Every door that I came to took an amazing amount of courage just to open. Every corner that I came across took twice as long to round because of the speed at which my cowardly character would move.

What could only be described as a ‘master stroke’ from the developers was the limited supply of ammunition available. Every time I would discover or purchase a better weapon, the ammo would be scarce. Most of the time I slugged it out using only my pistol to save the bigger ammo for when I would really need it. Couple this with the fact that later on in the game I was assigned the task of escorting the President’s useless helpless daughter back to the rescue chopper, the game was not making it easy for me to get over my fear. At that point I could barely look after myself and to be honest, I’m the type of guy who would run screaming towards the exit of a descending plane pushing women and children out of the way to save my own arse. And FYI, using the poor girl as a shield is not an effective way to roll.

By that point it occured to me that I wasn’t enjoying the game. This was supposed to be the ultimate action adventure title and I wasn’t having any fun. I was too worried about what was chasing after me to enjoy the fantastic puzzle solving, or the colossal monsters. This wasn’t the first time that this had happened. Splinter Cell: Double Agent gave me the same sensation. Both games I spent clenching my cheeks harder than that time my friends took me for a game of pool at the Wickham. The fact that I couldn’t enjoy such a great game really annoyed me. I jumped online to look at clips from future levels of the game and while they looked spectacular, I knew that I would never be able to progress that far without acquiring some kind of oxygen machine and setting it up next to my coffee table.

So this week Dead Space is released. It shouldn’t surprise you that I am not excited about this title and if you think my name will be at the bottom of our review, you obviously haven’t been paying attention. Sure it looks fantastic and the mood of the game wouldn’t be out of place in a Hollywood thriller, but if I had to sit through the entire game it would be lucky to get 1 star out of pure contempt towards the writers, developers and all parties involved.

From now on, I treat anyone who recommends I play a game from the Survival Horror genre as I would a Jehovah’s Witness that knocks on my door. Don’t push your beliefs on me, I’m quite happy playing games that don’t require I pop a Zoloft just to make it to the first checkpoint.