the protagonist was a young boy being driven to a house. The boy got out of the car and walked up the steps to the front doors, opening them and walking inside.
As the scene finished, the doors to the formidable house closed behind him. An equally formidable woman, presumably Mrs. Higgins, locked those doors and walked upstairs with the key, threatening severe consequences for misbehaving...and worse for trying to find the key. It seemed the point of this game was to escape the house and avoid punishment.
Ryan rolled his eyes. This was a typical point-and-click survival adventure with no real threat and little challenge. It was like playing with a preschool block set—not worth this adrenaline-junkie’s time. But, hey, Ryan was trying to track down leads about this ScoobyDoo, so he followed the simplistic game along anyway.
Since this character was a young boy, Ryan figured he should move him to the kitchen for a snack. The boy reached into the fridge, grabbed a PB and J sandwich, and swallowed it whole. As soon as he swallowed, a health meter popped up in the top left-hand corner of the screen.
That’s weird, Ryan thought to himself. What’s the purpose of the health meter? Those don’t exist in typical point-and-click adventure games.
His curiosity aroused, Ryan checked out the floor plan, now visible as a tiny thumbnail icon in the upper right-hand corner. There was a tiny green dot to indicate where he was located. Gamer instinct told Ryan he should explore the downstairs before going up. He walked into the living room, right off the kitchen. Excellent, a TV. This could be useful. He switched the TV on, turning up the volume. Suddenly, the map icon started flashing, a moving red dot appeared, and there was the sound of thundering footsteps. Once again, gamer instinct told Ryan that an enemy was headed his way, but he didn’t yet know who or why. Two seconds later, Mrs. Higgins appeared, face red and eyes flashing. A dialog box popped up, saying: Turn off the goddamned TV! It’s too loud. It’s giving me a migraine. You know I hate it when you do bad things like this!
In a split second, before Ryan could even process what was happening, the woman smacked his character across the face with a closed fist. The boy’s health meter dropped to seventy-five percent. The bitchy woman kept screaming, threatening to hit the kid again if he didn’t turn off the TV. So Ryan had him turn off the TV and scramble away, hiding behind a couch.
A cutscene now revealed Mrs. Higgins storming off to the kitchen. Ryan heard the sound of ice in a glass, followed by the distinctive splash of liquor. Then more footsteps leading upstairs, and a slamming door.
As the scene finished, Ryan pieced some things together. For any “bad behavior,” the boy would be attacked by this woman with no means of defending himself except running away or hiding. And her attacks were strong enough to take chunks out of his health. The only way to beat the level was to find the key and escape, but if he got caught, something worse than that attack would happen. The questions for Ryan were: What constituted bad behavior? Where were the hiding places? And where were some clues to help him find the key?
The story continued to unfold, and Ryan soon learned that bad behavior was something totally subjective, hiding places were tough to come by, and clues to find the key were well hidden. At one point, the boy got caught checking the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, and Mrs. Higgins came screaming at him with a bat. Luckily he found a closet to hide in.
This game was way more challenging than Ryan had initially thought. And more twisted. The villain was an alcoholic psycho with a violent temper. And there was no strategic way to appease her. So the boy took a beating.
Plowing expertly through the game, Ryan finally got the boy to find the key in Mrs. Higgins’ wallet, which was no easy feat. The boy tried to make a break for it, but as he got to the
Learning to Kill: Stories