Remember the amnesia-stricken survivor from RAGE? That's Splatterhouse in a nutshell: a groggy old dodger torn from the past now forced to learn the ways of the modern world. Unfortunately for it, modern games are expected to have stories deeper than "insert 25 cents to continue," but it just couldn't be asked to fill the gaps. Much is right with the world of Splatterhouse. Damsels are still in distress, demons still need punching, and the walls still need to be redecorated with whatever internal organs you have lying around. However, things fall apart the moment the game looks beyond its retro roots. There's constant foreshadowing of an inevitable confrontation between Rick and the mask that possesses him, along with obvious hints that the aforementioned damsel Jennifer will get caught up in it all. In lieu of answering those plot points with some sort of, you know, conclusion, Splatterhouse gives Borderlands and RAGE a run for their money by ending abruptly and with a terrible boss fight.
A freelance games writer, you say? Typically battling his current RPG addiction and ceaseless perfectionism? A fan of horror but too big a sissy to play for more than a couple of hours? Spends far too much time on JRPGs and gets way too angry with card games?
Well that doesn't sound anything like me.
