Horror game design, I shouldn’t need to tell you, is a craft that takes our everyday reality and transforms it into a landscape of fear. The essence of a great supernatural horror game, I repeat again, isn’t only about jump scares or monsters; it’s about the uncanny, the familiar made unfamiliar, and the echoes of legends whispered through pixelated streets. By blending haunting local folklore with evocative game mechanics, designers can create atmospheres that linger in the player’s mind long after the controller is put down.
What sets good supernatural horror game design apart is its ability to embed supernatural fear in places we recognize, the places where we live and work or our own cultural myths. The fusion of hauntology (Derrida, 1994; Fisher, 2012), folklore, and spatial storytelling and a growing ability for designers to implement its ideas offers the potential for a powerful evolution in interactive horror.
Horror Game Design: Blending Fear, Memory, and Local Legends
Horror games are different from other genres because they provoke visceral emotional reactions. Where action or adventure games might focus on empowerment and heroism, supernatural horror game design delights in triggering feelings of vulnerability, disorientation, and implementing the power of the unknown. A masterfully crafted supernatural horror experience uses pacing, environment, and sound to manipulate expectation, and these tools in the right hands have the power of turning a simple hallway or street into a site of existential dread. The power lies in interactivity; in games, players become more than passive spectators—they feel like active participants, and agency can amplify both fear and immersion, especially when the game world feels responsive, alive, and filled with memory (Perron, 2009).
This interactive element becomes even more impactful when horror games draw inspiration from local legends, which seem to be our way of remembering the past, particularly difficult or frightening aspects of it. These legends form the foundation of many terrifying tales, with stories passed down through generations becoming deeply connected to the places we inhabit and the cultures we belong to. Drawing upon these narratives means horror game design can tap into authentic, communal fear (Bird, 2002) because, unlike generic ghosts or monsters, local legends have a unique flavour and context, making their adaptation into games both refreshing and eerily familiar to the player. By merging interactivity with the emotional resonance of these legends, designers can craft experiences that truly linger. If such tales are embedded into everyday game spaces, they do more than just scare players; they evoke a sense of nostalgia, belonging, and uncanny recognition. The result is a type of horror that feels both universal and intensely personal.
Hauntology in Horror Game Design
Hauntology is the philosophical idea that the past never truly disappears. It “haunts” the present, shaping experiences and culture (Derrida, 1994). In horror game design, hauntology manifests as stories, visuals, or mechanics that evoke a sense of lost time, unresolved trauma, or cultural memory. The effect is often subtle but potent: a decaying town, a retro visual style, or whispers of forgotten myths can all bring this sense of the spectral past into play. This framework becomes especially powerful when supernatural horror games make players feel as if the environment itself remembers. Every street, building, or tree resonates with past events, real or imagined. Game designers use hauntology to create “ontological narratives,” where the setting itself tells a story, often without a single line of dialogue (Bird, 2002), and this in turn creates a haunting atmosphere where the present is never free of the past, and every shadow might contain a memory waiting to be revealed.
Such hauntological storytelling is exemplified by games like Someday You’ll Return, which demonstrate how spaces with history (be it a haunted forest or a decrepit school) become main characters in their own right (Krobová, Janik, & Švelch, 2023). Players sense that these places “remember” every secret, every trauma, and every legend that shaped them, making the environment feel both alive and eerily sentient. Ultimately, this sense of memory, even in digital spaces, forms the core of hauntological horror game design, ensuring that the past lingers and continues to shape every chilling encounter.
Urban Legends as Playable Folklore.
Urban legends are the backbone of community horror…The ghost bride, the haunted playground, the mysterious lights in the woods. Horror game designers can use these tales as the foundation for levels, quests, and environmental storytelling (Bird, 2002). Integrating these myths into interactive worlds gives players a unique thrill: the chance to investigate, relive, and even influence the outcome of the legends they grew up hearing. This process goes beyond simple scare tactics; it leverages the social power of playable folklore to forge a strong connection between game and player. When players encounter a myth they recognize, the experience is potentially powerful; suddenly, the game feels deeply personal, as if it knows the stories that defined your childhood fears. In this context, gameplay becomes a form of “legend-tripping” (the act of visiting or reenacting sites of myth) which becomes both safer and more immersive within a game. Because some form of folklore is universal, everyone, from local to global audiences, can sense the authenticity that real folklore brings, strengthening the game’s emotional impact.
This effect is magnified when cultural identity is woven into the fabric of horror games. Every culture has its monsters and ghost stories, from the Japanese yūrei to Nordic draugr. By incorporating these traditions into horror game design well, developers are attempting to show respect for cultural identity and create richer, more textured narratives (Bird, 2002). Players are drawn in not only by the scare factor, but by the depth and specificity of the world-building, making the horror experience resonate on both a universal and intensely personal level.
The Uncanny in Everyday Spaces
Sigmund Freud described the uncanny or ‘unheimlich’ (unhomely) as the familiar made strange (Freud, 1919), a feeling horror games excel in producing. Empty schools, abandoned homes, and silent streets become deeply unsettling not because they are foreign, but because they are almost too familiar. The more closely a game world resembles reality, the more unnerving it is when that reality warps, which is why horror game design often focuses on making the everyday feel subtly “off.” This effect is heightened through the use of liminal spaces; those “in-between places” like hallways, stairwells, and carparks. Such spaces feel neither fully public nor private, safe nor dangerous, and by exploiting these ambiguous zones, designers keep players on edge, never quite sure when the next shock will occur (Bird, 2002).
This sense of the uncanny deepens when game worlds draw inspiration from real places, especially those layered with local legend. A player wandering through a familiar virtual world, only to encounter the mythic “haunted crossroads,” experiences a unique emotional charge… A blur between game and reality that greatly intensifies immersion (Krobová et al., 2023). At the heart of unforgettable horror game design is this interplay between the real and the imagined, the comforting and the unsettling.
Additionally, some of the most effective horror games use deliberately outdated graphics, pixel art, or childlike drawings to build tension. The contrast between innocent aesthetics and unsettling content amplifies fear, while also evoking nostalgia (Dolan, 2022). Players are lulled into a sense of security, only to have their expectations shattered, demonstrating that both the visual style and the environment’s familiarity can work together to create a truly uncanny experience.
Post-Retro and Transgressive Game Art
Retro visuals do more than nod to the past; in hauntological terms, they actively haunt the present. Games like Doki Doki Literature Club! begin with charming, low-fi styles before unravelling psychological terror, and this post-retro art taps into hauntology by resurrecting and corrupting childhood memories, transforming comfort into unease (Dolan, 2022). This unsettling power is further heightened by the psychological impact of handmade styles. Handmade aesthetics have the ability to leave more to the imagination, allowing players’ minds to fill in the gaps, and this often leads to greater psychological horror than ultra-realistic visuals can achieve. A sketchy monster or a crayon-drawn diary page can trigger primal, intimate fears that polished graphics may never reach, demonstrating how visual style is not just an aesthetic choice but a potent tool for psychological horror.
Uncanny Interaction & Responsive Worlds
Unlike films or books, games can change in response to player actions. The environment can “remember” choices, shifting subtly or dramatically based on what the player has done. This creates a feedback loop of suspicion and paranoia, making it feel as though the game knows you—as if it is an active agent in your ‘haunting.’ Imagine coming across a door you are sure you closed: did you leave that door open, or did something else (or someone else) do it? (Perron, 2009). This sense of uncanny interaction is intensified when horror games break the fourth wall by referencing your actions or previous playthroughs in unsettling ways. Such direct engagement can make the experience feel haunted by your own past, turning gameplay into a unique digital ghost story where you are both victim and culprit.
Furthermore, games that remember your decisions—punishing or haunting you in subsequent runs—can create a sense of inescapable fate. This concept mirrors folk-horror traditions, where disturbing a sacred space or object always carries consequences (Scovell, 2017), and the result is a form of interactive dread that lingers long after the game is over.
Localizing Fear: Global and Specific Horror
By rooting horror games in real legends, exploiting local myths and deeply ingrained fears, designers can create experiences that feel fresh and specific yet universally understandable. Whether games are set in the woods of the Czech Republic or the backstreets of Tokyo, these games offer cultural depth without alienating outsiders (Krobová et al., 2023). This global appeal is even more powerful when inclusive folklore and respect for cultural origins are prioritized. Folk tradition is deeply imbedded in many individuals’ senses of self and cultural identity, making it essential that folklore is used respectfully without risking cultural appropriation. Using folklore respectfully means acknowledging its origins and meaning, so designers who research, collaborate with cultural consultants, and engage in fieldwork can produce more authentic and impactful horror games. At the same time, they develop a deep enough understanding to avoid unintentional offence, enriching the medium while honouring tradition.
Practical Tips for Designers
Building hauntological worlds step by step begins with cultivating a strong sense of place. Start by building your environment around real or legendary locations, and then layer in visual cues, environmental storytelling, and interactive objects that “remember” player actions. This foundational approach allows every corner of the game world to resonate with echoes of the past.
Equally important is the art of using everyday locations for horror. By turning the mundane into the menacing, designers can transform schools, parks, and local streets into stages for the uncanny. Focusing on lighting, sound, and subtle environmental changes helps keep players guessing, ensuring that familiar settings always have the potential to become unsettling.
Writing convincing local legends is another essential aspect of effective horror game design. For me, at least, fieldwork is essential—though this doesn’t necessarily mean deep ethnographical engagement, as even a simple visit might suffice to get a genuine ‘feel’ for the place. Research regional folklore and adapt it with sensitivity, and don’t be afraid to invent your own myths, but ground them in the real fears and symbols of your chosen setting. Above all, avoid letting culturally sensitive or offensive ideas mix with your own imagined world.
Finally, playtesting for the uncanny effect ensures your work resonates with players. Test your game with diverse audiences and ask not just if they’re scared, but if they feel unsettled—as if something familiar has been made deeply strange. Adjust pacing, visuals, and interactivity to heighten this uncanny atmosphere and deliver a truly memorable horror experience.
FAQs about Horror Game Design
Hauntology is the idea that elements of the past persist in the present, shaping how we experience the world. In horror game design, it makes environments and stories feel layered with memory, enhancing the emotional depth of the gameplay (Derrida, 1994; Fisher, 2012).
Local legends add authenticity and specificity, turning generic scares into personal experiences rooted in place and culture (Bird, 2002).
Retro and handmade styles evoke nostalgia and leave room for imagination, making psychological horror more effective (Dolan, 2022).
Uncanny spaces are familiar yet strange – ordinary places with subtle oddities or contradictions that put players on edge (Freud, 1919).
How can horror games use interactivity to create fear?
Conclusion: Memory, Place, and the Future of Horror Game Design
Supernatural horror game design, at its best draws, deeply from the well of legend, memory, and the uncanny. By embedding authentic folklore into everyday spaces and leveraging hauntological storytelling, designers create interactive worlds that feel alive, layered, and endlessly unsettling. The streets in these games remember, echoing with the ghosts of our collective imagination. As players, we are not just consumers of horror – we become participants in a living myth, haunted not just by the game’s monsters, but by the cultural stories that shaped us all.
References
Bird, S. E. (2002). “It Makes Sense to Us”: Cultural Identity in Local Legends of Place. Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 31(5), 519–547.
Derrida, J. (1994). Specters of Marx: The State of the Debt, the Work of Mourning, and the New International. New York: Routledge.
Dolan, P. R. (2022). 16-bit Dissensus: Post-retro Aesthetics, Hauntology, and the Emergency in Video Games. Replay: The Polish Journal of Game Studies, 8(1), 7–26.
Fisher, M. (2012). What Is Hauntology? Film Quarterly, 66(1), 16–24.
Freud, S. (1919). The Uncanny. Imago, 5(5), 297–324. (Reprinted in English in various editions.)
Krobová, T. F., Janik, J., & Švelch, J. (2023). Summoning Ghosts of Post-Soviet Spaces: A Comparative Study of the Horror Games Someday You’ll Return and The Medium. Studies in Eastern European Cinema, 14(1), 39–52.
Perron, B. (Ed.). (2009). Horror Video Games: Essays on the Fusion of Fear and Play. Jefferson, NC: McFarland.
Scovell, A. (2017). Folk Horror: Hours Dreadful and Things Strange. Leighton Buzzard, UK: Auteur Publishing.