I return to the elevator lobby, having repaired the security hacking tool that will get me into the lift, and up to the Sevastopol’s comms room, where I hope to get a ride out of this space station.
I’ve just had my first personal experience with the Xenomorph. It was scripted, but horribly tense, its demonically barbed tail uncoiling between my legs. It wasn’t aware of me, and that made the encounter all the more tense. It stalked off in the direction that I also need to go. I give it a head start — if I can’t see it, then it can’t see me, right… RIGHT?? — and head up to the lobby too.
Returning to the elevator lobby, I am simultaneously gratified and terrified to hear gunshots and screams. It’s obvious that the monster is having its way with the aggressive scavengers that I’d left behind. Soon, I won’t have to deal with the scavs. Of course that means that I’ll be alone with the Xenomorph. I spy a terminal. Maybe I can reroute power to some sort of distraction and then run for the elevator. Unfortunately the thing doesn’t have enough juice. I look up, realising that the noise has started to die down. Oh shit. What’s that bursting out of my stomach?
My vision blurs and then dims as that demonically barbed tail tells me that somehow it had got behind me. So, who was distracted?
Okay, so I’m over a year late to the Alien: Isolation “party”, but who cares? Survival horror like this is a very personal experience. I have that particular psychological quirk that reacts very well to the horror genre — insomniac for nights after a particularly “good” movie — and yet keeps coming back for more. I indulge myself infrequently at best, so I generally go for the best experiences. I did try Amnesia: A Dark Descent a couple years ago, but managed to freak myself out so thoroughly in about 20 minutes that I had to walk away. In fact, Steam claims that I haven’t even purchased the game. Probably for the best. Continue reading