Scars from my youth still seem to haunt me. I just clicked on the link to the second Ultima trilogy, and the image of the Shadowlords - just empty black cloaks with glowing eyes - brought back childhood trauma (shivvers down the spine and all) and reminded me how powerful the human imagination is, which is probably why I still look to those old gems (shards?) as immersive masterworks despite comparatively clunky interfaces and "unrealistic" sprite graphics.
Well, consider. The game encouraged my youthful mind to create voices, faces, characters to superimpose over its most basic aspect. These characters - including the demideity Avatar - were then easily cowed, even destroyed, by one and one alone of these monstrosities, these nonentities. These bastards were bad enough to take on Lord British and win, for Pete's sake! I could see it, in my mind's eye, the Avatar standing tall and strong and shining against the darkness of these vengeful wraiths, defiant and powerful, wielding sword and magic and backed by good men and women who were not only powerful allies but good friends and companions... and losing, crushed under heel like just another bug. It's a striking, haunting image to a young mind, to see something so powerful that even the heroes of your imaginings run from it.

So, there you have it. The child's imagination, mixed with basic sprite graphics, still triumphs over the adult spine. I have to go have a good cry now, both over the state of the gaming industry (which is why I hang 'round here these days) and over the scary things in my closet that have come to possess the deepest recesses of my soul.

I can relate to that, though I'll have to steer off the videogame topic to share my story.

A few years ago a close friend of mine told me to watch the new Dr. Who series. Since I've heard a lot about how the show defined a lot of British culture and was an inseperable part of it, I gave it a glance. I quite enjoed the first five episodes of the new series, and then came the sixth...

I had a bad feeling about it since the start, even though it began innocent enough. The tension got worse and worse, crawling up my spine like an icy spider, and as the main antagonist was revealed, screaming with it's robotic voice EXTERMINATEE! EXTEEERRRMINAAAATEE! I jumped up on my chair, and almost went running out of the room, heart racing, trying to catch my breath.

It was only then that I remembered in a flash that while my family lived in Germany, I actually saw some re-runs of the old series on TV. I must've been 4-5 years old, but I've forgotten all about it, as my mind was trying to escape the horror...

... the horror of Daleks.

It's actually a tough call between "Exterminate!" and "An air of Hatred surrounds you," which is the more terrifying.