REcently I’ve been imbibing in a favorite draught: horror games. Specifically games from the survival horror genre. When I was a child, quite literally a child, my family actually bonded over Resident Evil (the remake on the Game Cube). We would watch my father play (because my mother and brother and I didn’t have the nerves) and help him with the puzzles (we liked to think). I hadn’t thought much about it because well… it pretty much rolled down the cliff with 4 and exploded at the bottom of the canyon with 5. And not much else was said about it.
Now that I am ridiculously overstressed – how the hell did I think I could go to college? – I decided to slump down and mindlessly watch some playtthroughs of Resident Evil. It cheered me up some. It was enchanting and mesmerizing. Loving every little bit I consumed videos until I finished 1 and 2 and remembered, “Hey, whatever happened to that fanfic I wrote based on the series?” Oh yes. I am one of those. Perhaps not as dedicated but better punctuated and written (did anyone else see the angst teen takeover?) but I collected a butt-ton of information. Like, I wrote down the serial names of the monsters that Umbrella had specifically engineered and cross-referenced their methods and made a “lineage” chart of the viruses starting with Progenitor all the way down to what became the C-virus. I tracked all of Wesker’s movements (because he was the love of my life) and made a superior time-line so that I would be true to the series and even went so far as to read in-game files on all the research, notes, and etc for the sake of accuracy. Obsessed probably didn’t cut it when I was in the thick of all those words.
Seeing those videos made me feel like writing again. I don’t know if I ever will pick up that series again but it makes me smile just a little bit to know that I was such a crazy kid. Well, still am. Even after all this time, still a fan, still a fan. Some feelings never really go away?