Folklore around the world

Horror games are legion, but there’s also a sub-genre inherited from cinema and literature: folk horror. And far from being a source of terror alone, folk horror is also a way of discovering the folklore of a particular country, region or town. So let’s take a look at what’s on offer to show us that video games are not just there to entertain us, but can also take us on a journey.

Defining folklore and folk horror

First of all, we need to define what folklore is. According to the Larousse dictionary, it is the science (lore) of the people (folk). Folklore therefore refers to a set of beliefs, legends, festivals and superstitions that tend to come from the rural or even pagan world. Folklore stands in opposition to urban culture and the world of science and reason, not least because it is rooted in superstitious traditions handed down from generation to generation, and therefore preserved as an inheritance from the past. In this respect, folklore is also reminiscent of traditional tales, told to children decade after decade, changing subtly through oral tradition but retaining an imprint of fear, fantasy and morality. This is how we can speak of Swedish, Irish, Japanese folklore, etc., to designate legends of their own.

Folk horror therefore stems from this first term, since it will stage these tales and rites in a horrific way, by hijacking them. When we think of folk horror, the reference that comes to mind is that of a character, often a city-dweller, who finds himself plunged into the wilderness or an isolated rural village, confronting his rationality and ignorance with pagan rites and villagers obstinate in their fantastic vision of the world, built on ancient beliefs. This gives us some of the components of the sub-genre:

• An immersion in an isolated, wild and often incomprehensible nature, imbued with mysticism and danger, where it is all-powerful;
• The presence of fantasy in the purest sense of the word, where the character no longer knows whether he or she is in reality or the supernatural;
• A religious/sectarian/pagan community whose beliefs have been handed down for generations, and whose members transmit a growing and insidious sense of paranoia and unease;
• One, sometimes more, rather urban, rational or naïve characters who come up against these superstitious beliefs and are forced to suffer the consequences and isolation;
• The possibility of a pagan supernatural, more generally associated with witchcraft, with references to the devil, sacrifices and witches (although it can also drift towards the divine entities imagined by H.P. Lovecraft, for example).

Folk horror is a confrontation between two worlds: that of reason and that of belief, of paganism. As such, it is fascinating because it contrasts the rationality of an organised, superstition-free urban world with the rites of another universe, rooted in legend and belief, in submission to and acceptance of an uncontrollable and sometimes supernatural nature. It reflects the fear of the power of nature, and the lack of understanding of a spiritual and/or supernatural world. It is also about individuality versus the collective; folk horror often features a character whose strong individuality is not enough to fight against a community bound together by its beliefs and secrets.

In many ways, folk horror both fascinates and frightens, as it depicts stories and communities that are quick to follow bloody and cruel rites, evoking a step backwards in human civilisation. It forces us to accept man’s primal instincts for the greater good, that of the community. It is the primal fear of a nature that, despite all the science we have today, we cannot control.

A diversion through literature and film

When did the term folk horror first appear? It seems to have originated in the 19th century, following essays written by Edward Burnett Taylor on socio-cultural evolution (the evolution of a society over time, particularly from rural to urban areas) and by Margaret Murray on the witch cult (a theory according to which witch trials were a way for the Church to destroy all traces of pagan divinities).

These theories and essays later left their mark on literature. Algernon Blackwood wrote a short story called The Wendigo in 1910, using this half-herd, half-human creature with cannibalistic tendencies from Canadian and Indian folklore, as well as The Man the Trees Loved (1907), multiple short stories in which a wilderness oscillating between oppression and the supernatural drives the characters mad. Arthur Machen wrote The Great God Pan (1894), in which a young woman finds herself possessed by a force from an invisible world, hidden behind the world of humans. In 1950, Shirley Jackson reused this theme of a community bound together by a belief in a sacrificial rite for the collective good in her short story The Lottery. Closer to home, Stephen King evokes the legend of the Indian burial ground to explain the evil resurrection of the animals in Simetierre, or explores the human sacrifices of the Children of the Corn community. Another recent example is Kathleen Jennings’ Envol , in which the heroine investigates her past by immersing herself in the Australian bush and its secrets.

But it is undoubtedly through the cinema that folk horror is best known, before being introduced in video games. In the 1970s, a trilogy of films defined the genre: The Grand Inquisitor (directed by Michael Reeves), which revolved around the witch trials; The Night of the Wicked (directed by Piers Haggard), which depicted Satanism taking over an entire village; and the famous The Wicker Man (directed by Robin Hardy), in which a police officer investigates the disappearance of a young girl on an island, coming face to face with the pagan, bloody and sexual rituals of the islanders. More recently, the genre has seen a revival in horror films: The VVitch (Robert Eggers), which takes up the theme of witches and the devil, the series The Third Day (Dennis Kelly), which shows the daily life of an island where the inhabitants are united by rituals and beliefs, The Blair Witch Project, with its haunted forest (Daniel Myrick), and Ari Aster’s Midsommar , where a group of students discover the folklore and violent traditions of a Swedish island.

This very brief overview of folk horror in literature and film then goes on to show how this horror sub-genre has been able to find its way into video games with great ease. What could be better for a horror story than folk horror? It sets up all the right conditions for the genre: the isolation of a hero or heroine, prey to realistic or supernatural forces that he or she does not understand, but which also reflect a hidden truth of the society in which he or she lives, or even a trauma of their own.

Discovering the world through folk horror

What is it about this sub-genre that has made it such an integral part of video games? Apart from the fact that it can be used to create a good horror story? Quite simply because legends, whether ancient or more recent, superstitious or urban, are part of our collective imagination. We all know the story of the White Lady; the wolf as a monster in fairy tales still carries the stigma of unreasoning fear; we don’t necessarily feel comfortable with the idea of a spiritual world beyond our own. The many variations on traditional tales contribute to this collective imagination, with each country having its own version of Little Red Riding Hood, Little Mermaid, or quite simply of fairytale and legendary beings. In both myth and art, nature seems to be the ideal place for the forces of good and evil to confront each other, isolating the protagonists and forcing them to fight against entities more powerful than themselves.

The richness of folk horror lies in the way it reappropriates figures from tales and legends, turning them to horror. Familiar characters come to us in this way, particularly in the guise of their own country. Fear then takes a step to the side, becoming even stranger and more uncomfortable, as we discover legends we know little or nothing about. Folk horror is also a way of discovering the world and its different civilisations and visions. By immersing us in its folklore, the video game becomes a means of travelling through different countries. It’s this diversity that I invite you to discover, even if it’s not exhaustive!

Central and Eastern Europe: ghosts, beliefs and fantastic creatures

Let’s start our world tour with Europe, the most familiar terrain for us. It’s important to note that I don’t always base myself on the country where the studios of the video games named are based, but on the original folklore they use.

Released in 2021, Maid of Sker is created by Wales Interactive. This is the first example of a video game based on Welsh folklore, and the studio itself is based in Wales. While its structure and puzzles bear a strong resemblance to Resident Evil, Maid of Sker ‘s originality lies in its context. We play a young man, Thomas Evans, whose fiancée Elizabeth Evans begs him to come to the Sker Hotel, where she is due to give a concert. She is the prisoner of a monstrous father. By collecting music cylinders and sheet music, Thomas hopes to put an end to the curse hanging over the hotel. The game has its roots in Gothic inspiration, but also in Welsh folklore, as it is based on the real Sker House near the town of Bridgend. The 500-year-old building has seen many families live in it and create their own ghost stories. Maid of Sker is loosely based on the impossible love affair between Elizabeth Williams and harpist Thomas Evans in the 17th century, when the father forces the girl to marry a richer man. Elizabeth starved herself to death or died of grief after the wedding, her ghost now haunting the premises. The building’s history also includes legends of criminal shipwrecks organised at Sker Point to rob ships, and of a sailor who haunted Sker House after drowning in one. In this way, Maid of Sker makes perfect use of the history of Wales and its folklore of ghosts and mermaids to feed its horrific plot of the cult present in the hotel.

Resident Evil Village (Capcom, 2021) is an interesting take on folk horror. The hero Ethan sets out to find his wife in a remote Romanian village, where the villagers are terrorised by the presence of werewolves, vampires living in the nearby Gothic castle and a house where an evil doll is believed to live. Far removed from the American civilisation to which he is accustomed, Ethan must confront superstitions and local legends in an inhospitable, snowy land where the harshness of everyday life and the supernatural weigh heavily on the inhabitants. Of course, this is Resident Evil: the game shows us that science has become so advanced that it passes for magic, to paraphrase science fiction writer Arthur C. Clarke. There’s a lot of science behind the fantasy here, but the game takes us for a ride for a while by having us battle familiar horror creatures.

Saturnalia (Santa Ragione, 2022) takes the player on a journey through the maze of Gravoi, a town strongly influenced by the folklore of Sardinia, Italy. Four protagonists return to this town, where everyone knows everyone else, to uncover old, well-kept secrets. A masked creature is on the prowl, hunting them down to prevent them from discovering the truth about their past. Gravoi appears to be a communal town with a labyrinthine maze, steeped in tradition and secret rituals on Saturnalia night, where the inhabitants follow the rules of a carefully hierarchical society in secret. The four heroes and heroines of the game, already marginalised and having left the city before for this reason, are the perfect figure of these rational outsiders returning to more pagan lands.

In Martha is Dead (2022), studio LKA tells the story of Giulia, a young girl who loses her twin sister in a country house in Tuscany in 1944. The house, lost in the fields and away from any large town, not far from a forest where Resistance fighters and soldiers are fighting, leaves an impression of solitude. But rural life far from the war is not without its dangers, on the contrary: Martha’s sudden death by drowning prompts Giulia to investigate, between reality and superstition. In the lake nearby, it is said that the White Lady prowls, taking the lives of other women in love to avenge her own tragic love story. Martha is Dead skilfully blends the traumas of war and grief with Italian folklore, with its own version of the White Lady and the regular use of a Tarot deck. Giulia’s isolation in this remote place also raises questions about her own perception of things and her mental health.

Mundaun takes its name from a real Swiss village in the canton of Graubünden. The brainchild of the one-man Hidden Fields studio, it is released in 2021, dubbed in Romansh, the language of the canton. It follows Curdin’s return to his home village after his grandfather’s accidental death in a fire. The player is encouraged to roam the mountains, encountering local superstitions and strange encounters. The game’s ability to immerse players in the snowy landscape is due in no small part to the beauty of its art direction, drawn from the beginning to the end. The charcoal used plunges us into black and white, revealing sometimes idyllic landscapes, sometimes nightmarish visions, giving us a sense of solitude and wandering in this monochrome of snow. Mundaun is based on Alpine beliefs, such as the legend of the Devil’s Bridge: the Devil is said to have built the bridge in exchange for the soul of the first person to cross it. It’s a good reflection of the folk horror aspect of the game.

Let’s finish our tour of European folk horror with The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow, created by Cloak and Dagger Games and released in 2022. In the purest tradition of British folk horror, Thomasina Bateman, a Victorian antiquarian, is invited to explore the Hob’s Barrow burial mound (an ancient cemetery in the shape of a small mountain) in the village of Bewlay. But her benefactor is nowhere to be found, and the villagers are vehemently opposed to the arrival of such a modern and determined stranger. The game’s pixel-art direction and point-and-click aspect manage to convey the village’s unhealthy strangeness. In the desolate grey moors through which the heroine travels, a melancholy folklore is disappearing beneath the industrialisation of modernity, traces of which can still be found on the plains and in the village, bringing together supernatural beings, priests and witches flirting with fantasy and superstition, and the belief in fairies.

European folk horror therefore tends to use creatures from traditional legends and myths, such as the figure of the White Lady or the werewolf, but also draws on historical events. He places great emphasis on the power and danger of nature, as well as on ancient traditions and communities that can reject outsiders.

Scandinavia: the darkness of traditional tales

Another area of horror video games and folk horror is Scandinavian mythology, bringing together the legends of Denmark, Sweden and Norway (sometimes Iceland, due to ignorance). These countries, historically united on several occasions, share a common past and history. These are often little-known lands, likened to windy desert moors, devoid of vegetation and trees because of the freezing climate – they were also the inspiration for the desolate landscapes in Death Stranding. In addition to this difficult environment for the humans who live there, Scandinavia also has a little-known folklore, made up of trolls and fairies, as well as more worrying creatures that perfectly illustrate the darker side of traditional tales: mermaids, selkies, demons and many more.

Bramble: The Mountain King from studio Dimfrost was released in 2023, drawing its inspiration from Nordic folklore. Olle, a little boy, leaves home with his sister Lillemor, who is kidnapped by the Mountain King. Olle embarks on a journey of initiation, from childhood to maturity, to find his sister. While he is sometimes helped by trolls, gnomes and fairies, he must also face terrifying creatures, often seen in the distance as a bad omen, before getting close to danger. The Näcken is a shape-shifting creature, once a renowned violinist who was rejected and despised. Now, in humanoid form, he tries to lure potential victims with his music, then drowns them. Skogsrå is a sylvan spirit who takes the form of a beautiful woman, seducing his victims and sacrificing them to intensify his magical powers. Pesta is a creature responsible for spreading a plague in a village, turning its victims into cannibalistic monsters. Kärrhäxan, meanwhile, is a witch capable of aborting pregnant women or accepting unwanted newborns, only to sacrifice them in rituals.

What’s fascinating about Bramble is that not only does the game use figures from Scandinavian folklore, but it also stages them in a way that parallels the medieval history of the Nordic countries. Demons encountered in the game become incarnations of historical episodes of disease (Pesta and the bubonic plague), pagan sacrifices to secure greater power (Skogsrå), or infanticide at a time when women could not bear too many children (Kärrhäxan). These details, which support the folklore with a historical reality, combining social facts and superstitions, can be found in booklets of ‘tales’ written by Olle during the game. This blend of veracity and legend helps to create an even more macabre and chilling atmosphere, after a magical start to the game.

Released in 2016 and produced by Norwegian studio Antagonist, Through the Woods is also inspired by Scandinavian folklore and mythology. It follows Karen, a woman on an island in search of her son Espen, who has been mysteriously kidnapped by a man nicknamed Old Erik. Throughout her quest, she encounters trolls, demons, speaking wolves… creatures and spirits once again drawn from Nordic legends. There’s also the chance to read notes and messages from the other inhabitants of the island, all of whom have lost their children in strange circumstances. Rituals and sacrifices to pagan gods hover over this story, making its atmosphere even more macabre. As in Bramble, the monsters and demons are seen out of the corner of our eyes before we confront or avoid them, in the wild darkness of the island. Through the Wood does indeed draw on Nordic folklore to create an unusual sense of dread, forged both by the omnipotence of an unwelcoming nature and by the presence of creatures to which Europeans are unaccustomed.

Asia: Japanese horror at its peak

How can you talk about folk horror without mentioning Asia? Horror from Japan, China and other Asian countries has become almost popular. Cinema has accustomed us to coming across the pale and terrifying figures of the yukai, the most famous being the onryō Kayako and Sadako (The Ring, The Grudge), the friendlier kodama (Princess Mononoké) and many others. Japanese legends include a great number of creatures, which can of course also be found in video games. Asian countries live in a daily contrast of tradition and modernity, with the presence of temples and ancient ceremonies, while at the same time being turned towards new technologies and megacities. This is reflected in games, particularly survival horror games, where urban legends and traditions are often mixed with very urban environments.

One of the first examples to spring to mind is the Silent Hill licence (Silent Team, 1999-2004). The first opus places great emphasis on the existence of the Order sect, surrounding Alessa and the return of a Goddess, mixing rituals, esoteric sacrifices and the isolation of the characters. It’s a secret society that has existed since the 1900s in the town’s history, and one of the reasons why it seems haunted and like such a purgatory: it’s their attempts to revive a god (or, more accurately, a goddess) that feed the darkness of the place. The Order is also responsible for a great deal of criminal activity in the city, and most of its members (whether simple servants or more senior members such as saints and priestesses) do not hesitate to use violence, blackmail, threats, kidnapping and torture to increase their numbers. Non-believers, on the other hand, are referred to as pagans, reversing this particularity of folk horror.

In the first Silent Hill, Harry Mason, in search of his daughter, is at a loss to understand the purpose of this sect. He is trying to prevent his child from being sacrificed in a ritual of blood and rebirth. The same Order is used in Silent Hill 3, which puts Heather Mason at the centre of the plot, making her the cult’s target and forcing her to become the mother of an all-powerful deity. The latter could then trigger the Apocalypse and finally lead to a Paradise without pain or hunger. Even in the very average Silent Hill Homecoming, this sect is reused against a backdrop of child sacrifices, in order to preserve the peace of the town and atone for the sins of the parents. Silent Hill thus makes particular use of the imaginary world of religious sects, esoteric rituals and diabolical deities to imbue its games with a mysticism and supernaturalism that are cryptic at first glance. More incidentally and in another style, Silent Hill 4: The Room features one of the game’s victims, Cynthia Velasquez, as a vengeful onryō, crawling and using her long hair to attack Henry, the game’s hero.

This particular creature of Japanese horrific folklore is particularly present in The Evil Within 1 and 2 (Tango Gameworks, 2014- 2017), with antagonists Laura and Anima respectively. In this game, where the monsters are derived from the traumatic memories of the various characters, Laura is a young girl burnt alive, whose post-mortem monstrous form is inspired both by theonryō through her long hair, but also by another Japanese demon similar to a seductive spider-woman, Jorōgumo, from whom she borrows her multiple arms and spider-like way of moving. As for Anima, she once again bears a striking resemblance to the onryō endowed with long black hair. Her disembodied way of floating in the air, randomly teleporting and humming a creepy version of Clair de lune (supposed to be the safe room music in The Evil Within) will have left its mark on more than one player.

Little Nightmares (Tarsier Studios, 2017) is a platformer where you control Six, a little girl dressed in a yellow raincoat, who is trying to escape the boat she finds herself on. Although the game is fairly cryptic and there’s no dialogue to guide you through the plot, you can’t help but feel its strong influence of Japanese folklore. The main enemy is a Lady, dressed like a geisha (Japanese courtesan), whose obsession seems to be her appearance. Several places on the ship are reminiscent of Japanese architecture and furnishings, such as the dining rooms (which evoke the meal scene at the beginning of the film Chihiro’s Journey), and the Lady’s quarters, which feature refined elements such as statues, furniture and mirrors that are more akin to Japanese design. The way in which some rooms are crossed, through sliding windows and screens, is reminiscent of traditional Japanese houses. The first game in the Little Nightmares licence thus possesses many of the characteristics of Japanese culture, but it is made even more unhealthy and fascinating by its narrative structure and its characters, who could be found in dark tales. For example, the characters never have names, but rather functions, and they go through trials and places that play on childhood terrors.

Other games, some of them older, play the Japanese folklore card to the full, and made for the golden age of survival horror on the Playstation 2. It’s hard not to mention, among others, FromSoftware’s Kuon, released in 2004 and set during the Heian era (between 800 and 1200 AD). Several characters battle monsters in the Fujiwara mansion in Kyoto, passing through areas charged with negative energy capable of slowing the heroes down, unless they meditate afterwards to recover their health. Some of them are onmyōji, exorcists who will be able to drive out these demons. The Koei Tecmo studio also played the spirit card with its Fatal Frame / Project Zero licence from 2001 onwards. The story, set in 1980s Japan, places heroines in abandoned mansions and villages, haunted by ghosts that are either hostile or passive. The only way to stop and kill them is to take their picture with the Camera Obscura, a camera with supernatural powers. Fatal Frame highlights the presence of an invisible world beyond the everyday, made perceptible only by the camera. The ghosts in the licence often stem from traumatic blood rituals and ancient esoteric rites specific to Japan and its folklore.

Tango Gameworks returned in 2022 with Ghostwire: Tokyo, a new horrific game in which ghosts (yokai, nicknamed the Visitors) invade the Japanese capital after almost all the inhabitants have disappeared. Only Akito, a young boy, is able to exorcise them, as he himself has been possessed by a spirit nicknamed KK. The game immerses us not only in an immense Tokyo, but also in its folklore, traditions and culinary delights… The hunt for the spirits, while the main aim of the game, allows us to find out more about the legends surrounding all these Japanese creatures. Kasa-obakei (a kind of umbrella with one eye and a hanging tongue), Kuchisake (slit-mouthed women), Shiromuku (women in long, elegant wedding dresses with long black hair), rain walkers (businessman-like beings carrying umbrellas)… there are many yokai in Ghostwire: Tokyo, giving a rich overview of Japan’s legendary creatures, sometimes playing on the absurd and amusing, but above all on the horrific.

Russia and Slavic myths: the aridity of nature

Folk horror in Slavic countries is of course inspired by the legends and creatures of that culture, but it also seems deeply influenced by the very nature of Russia and its neighbouring countries. The desert and snow-covered lands plunge into complete isolation, where the power of nature makes itself felt. Never before have forests and mountains conveyed so well the fragility of human beings, at the mercy of the natural elements, faced with a savage environment that forces human beings to survive.

For example, the game Kholat (2015, IMGN.PRO) is loosely based on the historic event of the Dyatlov Passage. A group of student mountaineers lost their lives on the Kholat Syakhl mountain in unexplained circumstances. The player takes on the role of an investigator trying to shed light on the incident and find the exact cause of their deaths. While the game explores a number of theories, including scientific and government experiments, it also takes us through a mountain swept by storms and melancholy, mystical music, and inhabited by strange creatures that can be interpreted as the guardians of Kholat Syakhl. Deserted camps, ancient caves, an abandoned church and avalanches, as well as the presence of campers’ “ghosts”, give the game a unique atmosphere. It’s made all the more immersive and disturbing by the fact that a map, barely annotated with directions, is our only guide to avoid getting lost in this hostile wilderness.

Although Darkwood, released in 2017 and produced by Acid Wizard Studio, is only partially inspired by Slavic folklore, it does feature motifs very close to folk horror. We play a man trapped in a house, having to survive each night and explore the immense dark forest that surrounds him in order to escape. The region, somewhere in Poland, has been invaded by this forest, which is constantly advancing, having driven away the inhabitants or turned them into monsters. One of the first characters you meet – the game’s object merchant – is a strange hybrid creature between man and wolf. With its view from above and its forest bathed in a dangerous atmosphere, its mazes ready to lose you despite your map, Darkwood is an inescapable reminder of the omnipotence of a nature that is as cruel as it is nurturing.

Set in 19th century Russia, Black Book is produced by Russian studio Morteshka and released in 2021. Once again inspired by Russian folklore, it features a witch, Vasiliva, determined to save her husband’s soul, including by accepting her family’s witchcraft heritage. Alas, the Devil and his temptations are never far behind her choices, when she decides to help one person over another, curse a neighbour or summon a poltergeist. Instead, Black Book shifts us into the perspective of the folk horror witch: Vasiliva is the one you come to for services, incantations and curses, even if it means paying the price or finding yourself cursed. The choices made during the course of the game, whether positive or negative, influence the heroine’s sin points and her destiny. This is a roguelike that makes use of Russian myths and legends to flesh out its story and pay tribute to the lost peasant village of Vasiliva, where superstition still reigns. The cold, grey Russian landscape and the literal use of Russian terms to describe the demons of the game and Vasiliva’s daily life support this desire.

Speaking of witchcraft, and to finish off with some Slavic folklore, Emberstorm Entertainment’s very recent Reka game also gives you the role of a witch in the making, under the tutelage of Baba Yaga. But it’s Béné who will be telling you more about this game and this Russian witch !

North America: the weight of history

North America’s past is full of legends linked to indigenous folklore that predate the Conquest of the West. Its myths revolve around the conflict between civilisations destroyed by colonisation and the oppression of Christianity over this ancient paganism. The immense wilderness of America and Canada also reflects the omnipotence of nature over urbanity, and the religious guilt of the destruction of primitive beliefs.

For example, one of the most memorable uses of folklore in horror video games is that of the wendigo in Until Dawn (Supermassive Games, 2015 ; remake in 2024). This interactive horror story seems to start like a slasher with a killer in the midst of a group of teenagers, isolated in a cottage in the middle of a snowstorm. However, we soon come across elements of Canadian folklore: the totem poles of the Algonquin First Nations that warn of the dangers of death, and above all the presence of the wendigo, humanoid creatures with deer heads that are anthropophagous. Humans forced to resort to cannibalism to survive in these extreme environments can find themselves possessed by the spirit of the wendigo. They embody the danger and taboo of cannibalism in times of famine, particularly in winter.

In the course of its many more or less successful interactive horror games, studio Supermassive Games has borrowed several elements from American folklore, rather like the anthological horror series American Horror Story. The Quarry reuses the werewolf myth. Little Hope focuses on a town haunted by the trials of witches and the horror of their murder, at a time when conservative and oppressive Christianity was seeking to eliminate all traces of paganism from the United States. The game explores, in its own way, the opposition between rural folklore based on ancient pagan practices and rituals, and the imperious conversion to the Christian religion.

The character of the witch is also at the heart of Blair Witch (2019), set a few years after the film The Blair Witch Project. Set in the same universe, this title from Bloober Team features Ellis Lynch, a war veteran and policeman, searching for teenagers lost in the forest. Immersion in a forest has never been so total in a game, with its labyrinthine, photorealistic feel and the forest becoming increasingly menacing and tortuous as the game progresses. The chilling atmosphere is further enhanced by the presence of the famous wooden figurines from the film, as you enter the witch’s nightmarish house. Here, the character is subjected to terrifying and traumatic visions, involving both supernatural murders and the post-traumatic stress disorder he has suffered since returning from the war. Whether or not the witch actually exists is left to the player’s interpretation, leaving a sense of the fantastic and uneasy throughout.

The Chant, from the young Canadian studio Brass Token, is set in 2022 and tells a story that is part folk horror, or rather folk horror revisited. The heroine, Jess, goes to an island for an extremely New Age spiritual retreat. In fact, she ends up in a kind of sect that focuses on meditation, spirituality, self-esteem and the consumption of hallucinogenic mushroom tea. When the island is plunged into a supernatural nightmare, she has to resort to all manner of pagan paraphernalia (sage, salt, witches’ staff, oil) to fight back. The monsters on the island are as much creatures of weird fiction as the men of the island cult, with their skull masks and a clear propensity for organising human sacrifices. The isolation of the island plays on the heroine’s paranoia, taking us through forests, abandoned buildings and cliffs. She vacillates between reality and fantasy, and her lack of understanding of the cult, which is obviously very old and intends to devour her fellow travellers one by one.

To conclude this tour of American folklore, let’s move on to Alaska, this time to talk about a game that is far less horrific than the others, but which seemed essential to mention. We’re talking about Never Alone (Kisima Inŋitchuŋa), developed by Upper One Games and released in 2014. Indeed, Never Alone marked a turning point at the time, presenting itself as a platformer and puzzle game inspired by the tales of the Alaskan natives, the iñupiaqs. Based on a traditional tale (Kunuuksaayuka), the story presents Nuna, a little girl who, with the help of an Arctic fox, tries to discover the source of the evil that has struck down her village. The game is set in a wilderness, swept by terrible winds and snow, but with a strangely peaceful atmosphere. This is because the native Alaskan people choose to respect and accept the forces of nature, as well as the presence of animals, both sources of danger and help, without seeking to dominate them. Throughout the story, Nuna is helped by Inuit spirits and other folkloric creatures, and the cinematic design is akin to the traditional art of scrimshaw.

Above all, Never Alone rewards the player with screenings of sketches and documentaries recounting the culture and history of the Iñupiaq people. The game is a brilliant example of how folklore can be used to discover an entire civilisation, the traditions and beliefs of another country, another people, especially by giving the people involved the chance to put their own voice to it.

Conclusion

This concludes our tour of the world of video games through the medium of folk-horror. There are, of course, still many games that use its folklore in a horrific way, and it would be particularly interesting to look at other countries not mentioned here: South America, Africa, Australia…

Folklore around the world has enabled us to identify a number of trends: Europe has a strong emphasis on ghosts, monsters and beliefs surrounding witches or the Devil, the fruit of its Judeo-Christian heritage. Scandinavia allows us to explore the darker, more macabre aspects of fairy tales. Japan draws heavily on its contrast between modernity and tradition for folk horror, invoking ancient spirits and rites. Russia and its neighbouring countries tend to use horror set in wild, snowy landscapes that are particularly hostile to human life. North America, torn between the first native nations and the conquest of the West, as well as religious conversions, feeds its folklore with this guilt of historical domination.

As defined at the start of this article, folk horror is about the clash between two worlds: an ancient world of pagan customs, and the modern one, imbued with a Christian religious spirit, against a backdrop of mystical nature and omnipotence. This aspect is reflected on several occasions in the various games described, whether in the menacing forest of Darkwood, the hostile climate of the Kholat Pass or the haunted forest of Blair Witch. The theme of the witch is also often represented, either by having us embody one (Reka, Black Book), or by confronting her (Little Hope). It is directly linked to ancient beliefs and dark rituals (sometimes evoking the Devil), whether through local legends (Mundaun) or the power of a sect (Silent Hill, Maid of Sker). Spirits and ghosts are legion in all cultures, but particularly so in Japan, while the Nordic countries place more emphasis on fairy tales and their dark aspect, reflecting the ambivalence of human nature. Finally, folk horror is sometimes based on a country’s own history. In this way, the video game becomes a vehicle for travelling through folklore, enabling us to discover the legends, monsters, tales and historical accounts of a continent. Far from being confined to simple leisure, video games allow us to discover the world and its different cultures in a way that is as entertaining as it is frightening.