They’re all cute at that age… And then the skull sucking starts…
Greetings Leaguelettes! Welcome to part 3 of my five-part series tackling the earliest fight-or-flight inducing titles of my gaming history.
Today’s entry takes us back to the year 1994, the golden era of the Super NES. It was during this time that many of Nintendo’s prominent IP’s started to really get into their full swing. One in particular had always stood out to me from the first time I’d laid eyes upon it; the aptly named Super Metroid.
Now while this isn’t technically a horror genred title, neither was Kid Icarus but bear with me. As I mulled it over in my ‘adult’ brain, I’d reached the conclusion that a lot of what frightened me about Super Metroid was the mystery surrounding it. You see– at that age, every console in my childhood home was the sole property of my mother. And for good reason… I was not always very kind to material objects, much less ones I didn’t understand. Sure I knew they were games but hell if I knew what went into them. How sensitive the cartridges were hadn’t dawned on me. So it was only logical that I be barred from their use without permission.
At any rate, it was because of this that I was more often than not, a spectator. Only getting a glimpse of the wonders that awaited me when finally I was allowed to touch that ‘paddle’.
The key thing here is that I’d never gotten to witness Super Metroid before I played it myself. It was one of those few times where I was in for a complete surprise.
The intro cinematic was awe inspiring. Breathtaking might be a bit of a stretch but there was plenty of Kenji Yamamoto goodness to be found. I especially enjoyed how the music syncd perfectly to provide the following goosebump laden moment:
That fuzzy, warm feeling didn’t last for very long however. Ahh yes, the quiet hum and chirp of the slow elevator ride into the station. I’ll never forget the different kind of goosebumps that then settled in. Everything seemed quite peaceful and yet something was just…off. Lucky for me, my fears would be immediately affirmated within the next few rooms.
Now what follows next, I won’t spoil– but the above image is what this post is alllll about. After you complete your objective at the station, a self-destruct sequence initiates, giving you a generous 60 seconds to haul ass out of there. The problem here is that at that very moment, I had absolutely no concept of time. Instead? I burst into tears, my chest began to flutter in a way I’d never experienced before and the sweat…my god.
Thankfully, enough button mashing got me into the menu where I was able to take some time to compose myself but good lord. In the end, I managed to get myself out of there and only then realized just how much time I’d had to do it. Skip ahead a decade or two and I’m officially diagnosed with clinical anxiety.
I hope you all enjoyed todays entry, and I hope to see you back here tomorrow for part 4: I’ll tan your Hydlide!