Silent Hill f and Dying Light: The Beast – Two Games, Two Horrifying Journeys

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One of the many things I love about horror is how adaptable it is as a storytelling medium. Feeling scared isn’t limited to the horror genre; anything, in any situation, has the potential to frighten us, and how strongly we react varies greatly. Some people enjoy constant, fast-paced scares that keep them on edge. Others prefer a slow burn – a growing sense of dread that doesn’t rely on jump scares, but instead builds tension and messes with your mind until the suspense becomes almost unbearable. And the things that can trigger fear are truly endless.

Over the years, horror has taken many forms – in video games, movies, comics, and books. It’s fascinating how even very different horror stories often end up exploring similar themes. Even though Halloween is still months away, two of the most highly-regarded horror games of this year – Dying Light: The Beast and Silent Hill f – were released to players in the same week.

Beyond just being different genres, these two games are worlds apart. Techland’s sequel – which they playfully avoid calling Dying Light 3, but is widely seen as such – is a first-person survival horror game featuring parkour, guns (though ammo is scarce), and a new Beast mode that lets the returning character, Kyle Crane, tear enemies to pieces. It’s an open-world game filled with secrets, collectibles, and side quests, and it introduces a special nighttime element. When night falls in Castor Woods, you become the hunted as dangerous Volatiles appear, and all you can do is run for your life and try to survive.

However, NeoBards Entertainment and Konami have created a survival horror game that focuses more on frightening players through psychological tension and disturbing imagery. Character artist kera designed a variety of unsettling creatures, and Ryukishi07 wrote a complex and emotionally draining story. The gameplay centers around exploring environments and solving puzzles, with combat taking a backseat (and sometimes, running away is the smartest choice). Even with all these elements, the game follows a relatively straightforward path.

Despite being linked by the shared experience of horror, the contrast between these two main characters is significant. Kyle Crane, once a mercenary and then a test subject, breaks free and aims to get revenge on the Baron. Shimizu Hinako, a student in 1960s Ebisugaoka, becomes trapped in a terrifying fog, confronting her personal struggles within a strange realm for reasons she doesn’t understand. However, despite the differences in their journeys, both characters face a similar core horror: a feeling of powerlessness.

It’s not simply that both characters, and the games they’re in, often have people running from scary situations – though they *do* encourage that in different ways. What really connects them, for me, is how they use that feeling of fear – that emotion – to actually *create* the scares. It’s about how they treat that emotion to induce various frights.

Consider this: despite Kyle Crane’s incredible abilities – like scaling buildings, jumping across rooftops, and transforming into a powerful creature capable of defeating Chimeras – his strength comes from years of feeling helpless. This feeling continues to bother him as he pursues the Baron. In fact, it’s affected him ever since the events of the first Dying Light – you can see it in the beads he wears near his watch, a constant reminder of the people he couldn’t save.

The world feels like a massive playground for parkour, where you can take down enemies with swords and flamethrowers, or even drive around in a chaotic, undead version of Carmageddon. However, it’s also a world that’s essentially over. With so few people left, society has completely fallen apart, and criminals rule, treating others like food for zombies. Despite Kyle’s incredible strength, his most valuable skill is running-specifically, avoiding fights and focusing on surviving. This is especially clear when he evades the dangerous Volatiles at night.

Hinako faces a different kind of hardship, but like the others, she sees little hope in the future. Although she has a gift for art, she’s become a shy and withdrawn student. Her height and participation in the track team – which explains her endurance – are her only real positives. Without giving away too much of the story, her family life is difficult, and she struggles with intense self-dislike and resentment towards the world. Ebisugaoka feels like a trap to her, and the one person she truly trusted, her sister Junko, recently got married and moved away. Seeing everyone admire Junko only makes Hinako feel worse about herself.

Even so, Hinako continues to resist emotionally. She doesn’t give up, even after being transported to the Otherworld. When faced with terrifying and unexplainable things (and believe me, what you’ve witnessed so far is only a glimpse of what’s coming), she arms herself with whatever she can find – pipes, axes, bats, and other unconventional weapons – to fight back. However, Hinako isn’t reckless; she won’t engage in every battle and will run away when it’s the smart thing to do.

Interestingly, a wild, animalistic side also starts to appear within her, which both empowers her and stems from her feelings of helplessness. Both games make players carefully consider whether to fight or run, based on how long their weapons will last, but Silent Hill f is more demanding in this regard, as it doesn’t offer ways to replace or fix broken weapons.

The outcome is consistent, but it makes you wonder: What’s the reason behind it? Feeling powerless is something many people can relate to. Video games are particularly good at exploring this because they let you actively try to influence events, turning character development and challenges into engaging gameplay, even when the larger world feels fixed. But, like a compelling narrative, the theme of powerlessness isn’t just about creating fear or highlighting what we can’t control. Instead, these games show us that powerlessness isn’t something to fear-even when everything around us is falling apart. It’s a reminder that accepting limitations can be empowering.

Both Kyle and Hinako are attempting to influence and alter the things they can reach. Even if their efforts ultimately don’t make much difference, players can’t just give up and disregard their actions. Is this driven by the game’s progression – the feeling of power gained from upgrades and overcoming challenges? Or is it the addictive nature of the gameplay, drawn from the unsettling scenarios and the deliberately limited resources?

I believe the core reason is simply wanting to see these characters’ stories conclude. We’re unsure if Kyle will survive the events of Dying Light: The Beast – he’s been fortunate so far, but his luck is wearing thin. Similarly, we don’t know if Hinako will overcome the challenges of the Otherworld and Ebisugaoka to become the person she aspires to be. Silent Hill doesn’t have a great track record of letting anyone escape unscathed, either in body or mind.

Even though we, as players, often feel helpless within a story, we continue to experience it, driven by feelings like sympathy, a dark fascination, or-most surprisingly-the wish for a happy ending. If intense fear feels like an endless, dark tunnel, then hope is like a light at the end of it, suggesting that the frightening experience might stop, even if just for a while.

Just a heads up – everything I’m saying here is my own opinion. I’m sharing my thoughts as a gamer, and it doesn’t necessarily reflect what GamingBolt thinks as a company. Don’t assume my views are officially from them!

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2025-09-30 17:14