Phobias are supposed to be irrational, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have some foundation in logic. Whether you’ve got a strong aversion to rats, spiders, confined spaces, or heights, your anxiety will have a gram of justification behind it, one that stems from an instinct of self-preservation. Such is the basis for ophidiophobia, a primal fear that can be traced back to the very origin of our species and to a time when we weren’t necessarily at the top of the food chain.
Back then, snakes were among our chief predators because they could hide in plain sight, crush us with their muscular strength, and inject fast-acting venom in a matter of seconds. To help us outwit these daunting adversaries, evolution equipped mankind with an acute hypersensitivity that allows us to spot them much easier. That’s why if you show someone a photograph of a jungle scene, their gaze will automatically be drawn to the snake before anything else. Experts hypothesize that it’s also why we can interpret finer shades of green, as doing so enables us to distinguish reptiles at a glance.
Fast forward a few millennia though and this skill of threat recognition isn’t really a priority anymore. Sure, a residue of it can be found kicking around in the back of your subconscious, but a fear of snakes ought to be a thing of the past for modern humans, at least as far as everyday life is concerned. That is unless your hypersensitivity has developed into a crippling phobia, like it has for me.
You see, I detest snakes with every fiber of my being, to the point where I feel uneasy viewing them from behind display glass, on a television screen, or in a videogame. That might not be a particularly rational outlook, yet the Book of Genesis and Harry Potter both corroborate my belief that these animals are inherently villainous, so I’m clearly not alone.
Anyway, the gaming examples are the ones that I’m going to be focusing on here, with this personalized tour of my psyche. So, without further ado, let’s take a look at the cold-blooded antagonists that freaked me out the most.
Bloodborne – Snake Balls
Apparently ”Snake Ball” is a colloquial term for a group mating ritual. I wouldn’t recommend looking it up.
What’s worse than facing off against a deadly viper? How about facing off against 20 of the fuckers that have somehow been congealed into an unholy mass? That’s what’ll greet you upon arrival at Yharnham’s forbidden woods, as the terrain has been completely overrun with what the bestiary unambiguously dubs as ‘’snake balls’’.
Like that clear-cut moniker suggests, these aberrations are basically serpents that have been tangled into discrete lumps, with a single consciousness binding them together. Because they share a fused body and unified mind, the ghastly ensemble is capable of coordinating its attacks with the utmost synchronicity, unleashing a flurry of venomous bites that are almost impossible to evade. As such, they can quickly overwhelm novice hunters who aren’t careful enough, resulting in a fatal toxin buildup that can only be remedied by an entire pharmacy’s worth of antidote pills.
It is this unrelenting savagery that makes the snake balls so damn intimidating (along with their hideous design), as you’re given very little margin for error when timing dodges. The only upside is that they are extremely vulnerable to elemental damage, so you are at least afforded the cathartic experience of killing them with fire.
Subnautica – Crabsnakes
It’s a shame these grotesque monstrosities have to spoil what is otherwise such a lovely vista.
Exclusive to a region known as the ‘’Jelly Shroom’’ caves, crabsnakes aren’t exactly an ever-present threat in Subnautica. What they are, however, is bloody terrifying, on account of their winding vertebrates, prodigious fangs, and disconcerting lack of eyes.
The M.O of these beasties recalls that of the deep-sea angler fish, insofar as they rely on their prey being captivated by an enticing light show. Tunneling their way into bioluminescent fungi (known as jelly shrooms), they patiently await gullible victims to be lured inwards by the dazzling radiance of their homes. Then, when the catch is finally within range, the crabsnake will emerge from its lair and make use of protruding mandibles to yank its target in for the kill.
To be fair, these otherworldly eels don’t pose much of a threat once you’ve learned to keep your distance from the tantalizing foliage. Nevertheless, rookie explorers who let their curiosity get the better of them, and subsequently veer too close, will be in for a nasty surprise.
Resident Evil 4 – Snake in a Box
One of the artform’s finest ever jump scares.
In the season 11 episode of The Simpsons ‘’Beyond Blunderdome’’, Homer admits that Lethal Weapon 2 inspired him to scope out his toilet before each use, just in case a bomb has been planted there. Now I’d laugh at this absurd paranoia, were it not for the fact that decades of sensationalized news stories have conditioned me to be equally vigilant for snakes lurking in the commode. Which is frankly just as ridiculous, especially for someone who lives in the UK, where innocuous grassland adders are the most I’ve got to worry about. Still, the possibility that this could conceivably happen is always hovering in the back of my mind.
Like the fictional crabsnakes of Subnautica, real-world serpents prefer to get cozy in dark, warm crevices. Hence why the residents of countries like Thailand and India will often find them concealed in wicker baskets, around flowerpots, or beneath their floorboards. Of course, toilet bowls are among these ideal hiding spots, even if complicated drainage systems make them trickier to access.
Anyway, the point is that snakes can take refuge in the unlikeliest of places, including the ones that we previously assumed to be safe. This is a scenario that Resident Evil 4 brilliantly taps into with its unique take on the ‘’breakable container’’ mechanic. For context, this is a well-worn trope that dates back to the infancy of the pixel medium, whereby you smash a box in order to pillage its contents and gain a tangible gameplay reward, like collecting Wumpa Fruit in Crash Bandicoot or rupees in The Legend of Zelda.
In the case of RE: 4, Leon can use his combat knife to break into wooden crates where there will either be a healing supply, a case of ammunition, or valuable treasures. Before long, you’ll get into a comfortable routine destroying every box in sight, secure in the knowledge that you’re guaranteed a prize. That is until the game throws a devious curveball your way, by filling a few of these containers with irate snakes that immediately lunge outward upon release, giving you a sharp nip.
Granted, once you’ve been duped by this Trojan horse the first time, you’re unlikely to ever fall for the trick again. Yet it keeps you on your toes all the same because, up until now, breakables have been a dependable source of loot, and all of a sudden that certainty has been removed. It’s an evil little prank from the developers, one that exploits a palpable fear of my own.
Peter Jackson’s King Kong – Cave Serpent
The thought of these parasites teeming all over you like a clew of leeches is enough to make anyone shudder.
Caught in perpetual prehistory, Skull Island has no shortage of fearsome monsters and creepy crawlies to get under your skin. From the bat-like Terapusmordax (with their ugly rodent features) to the enormous millipedes, and the aquatic Udusaurs, there’s bound to be something here that will give you the heebie-jeebies.
For me, it has to be the cave serpents that infest Kong’s mountaintop lair. Ranging from 20-50 ft in length, your relationship with these towering giants depends upon whether you are controlling puny human Jack Driscoll, or the titular silverback gorilla. As the former, they hardly pay you any mind whatsoever, because you’re essentially just an insect to them. All they really do is give you a bit of a start when they first rise out of the water.
Once you switch over to the King, however, they take a much keener interest, triggering a lengthy beat-‘em-up section wherein they swarm all over the place and use their piercing jaws to latch firmly onto your body. Closely resembling lampreys in their physicality, it turns out they also share a few behavioral traits with the notorious eel, as they erratically flail around the arena and wriggle through your grasp whenever you try to pin them down.
I find this unpredictable slithering to be extra gross, as it instills a profound feeling of formication in me (whereby your brain convinces you that something is crawling over your skin, despite nothing actually being there). Common for arachnophobes and ophiophobes alike, it’s not a remotely pleasant sensation and even when I have the power of Kong at my fingertips, I’m not immune to its psychological effects.
Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater – King Cobra
Seamlessly disappearing into the background, you won’t notice these twitchy assailants until you inadvertently bump right into them.
Given that they’re name-checked in the title itself of MGS3, you’d expect snakes to have a reasonably large platform here. And with up to 11 breeds appearing in different parts of the map – including reticulated pythons and giant anacondas – they are unquestionably the most prolific fauna you will contend with throughout your tactical espionage adventure. Not only that, but they’re also the most frightening, which is saying something when you consider just how hazardous the rainforest environment is, replete with poisonous frogs, menacing tarantulas, lethal scorpions, unseen pockets of quicksand, and crocodile-like gavials.
Indeed, whilst Snake Eater may not be a fully-fledged horror release, its setting is honestly more nightmarish to me than any of the hellscapes you’d find in Silent Hill, Agony or The Evil Within. A habitat that stacks the deck in favour of camouflaged natives, who can hide right under your nose, it is the worst-case scenario for us ophiophobes. Every branch could be a hostile in disguise, every tuft of grass could be sheltering a reptilian foe, and we’d be none the wiser. That’s the particularly bloodcurdling thing about these serpents: they have the home-field advantage and can blend perfectly into their surroundings.
Of the bunch, it is probably the King Cobra that unnerves me the most, because it’s the one that would be most distressing to stumble across in reality. The fangs of this hooded killer are laced with a venom so potent that it is capable of bringing down an adult elephant in a single strike. Meanwhile, its finely tuned senses can detect quarry from over 100m away, and it has even been observed resorting to cannibalism in the wild. In short, the King Cobra is an appalling creature and I hate it.
Granted, not many of these unnerving qualities translate into the gameplay itself (that’d be quite sophisticated programming for 2004) although the implication is still there courtesy of your mission companions, who insist on feeding you disturbing factoids over the radio.
Resident Evil 6 – Iluzija
In the grimmest fate imaginable, this organism has the ability to constrict and swallow you whole.
Resident Evil 6 is rightfully considered to be the worst mainline entry in the franchise, signifying the precise juncture at which Capcom totally abandoned any pretense of being interested in delivering tightly crafted horror experiences. Instead, they gave themselves permission to go full Michael Bay with this one, indulging in globetrotting shenanigans, out-of-place martial arts, mind-numbing pyrotechnics and even a jarring aerial dogfight. Suffice it to say, it bares almost no resemblance whatsoever to its forbears and was generally seen as an unwelcome departure for the series.
The feeble cash-in is more than deserving of its black sheep status but it’s still not without its moments. Well, it’s just the one moment actually, that being the thrilling battle against a formidable B.O.W named Iluzija. When converted over from the original Serbian, this literally translates to ‘’The Illusion,’’ a reference to the boss’ pigment-changing abilities that make it imperceptible to the naked eye.
The encounter with Iluzija is the one true standout from all 4 campaigns, as the chameleonic basilisk picks off friendly NPCs in a way that recalls the intensity of a Predator movie. In order to keep track of the opponent, you have three options: fire indiscriminately and hope that you get lucky; watch for subtle disturbances in the environment; or bait the bioweapon into trying to eat you, so that it will expose its visible maw. Whichever course of action you choose to take, you’re gonna panic. A lot.
In a title that was otherwise so crushingly bland and overblown, there are a couple of genuinely understated and spine-tingling moments here. Like when you crawl through an enclosed ventilation shaft, only to see a trail of saliva heading right for you, or when you notice a piece of furniture move of its own accord. I wish that Capcom had leaned further in this direction for the rest of the game, because these disquieting little moments left a much stronger impression on me than all the surrounding bombast.
Red Dead Redemption 2 – Rattlesnake
Benefitting from Rockstar’s signature attention to detail, you will not find a more lifelike (and therefore horrifying) specimen than this.
Much like in MGS3, the animals of Rockstar’s western epic are decidedly grounded in reality. Only this time they are rendered even more credible by the insane technological leaps that have occurred since the 6th console generation.
Inhabiting a complex ecosystem, all the birds, fish, livestock, and assorted critters that scuttle along the ground feel like they’ve been taken straight out of a wildlife documentary. The way in which they go about their business is a truly remarkable feat, with the sophisticated A.I grazing, roaming, migrating and engaging in social behaviors without the player ever having to intercede. As such, you can easily just while away the hours studying this virtual menagerie from afar, marveling at its staggering nuance and depth.
Across the board, RDR2’s natural world displays great respect for zoological accuracy. And seeing as every bison, blue jay, and badger is depicted with the same level of meticulousness, it makes sense for the snakes to also be indistinguishable from the real thing. No other game has managed to nail their lateral undulation so convincingly, replicate their anatomy so precisely, or get the sound effects to ring so true. And that’s why they’re so scary here, because they feel genuinely authentic.
But the primary reason for their inclusion on this list is the way they jump you when you are least expecting it. Preordained jolts in videogames rarely faze me because I have become so utterly desensitized to them from years of overexposure. However, the unscripted rattlesnake attacks that I endured whilst innocently admiring the majesty of RDR2’s rural landscapes never failed to get a rise out of me.
Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice – The Great Serpent
That penetrating eye gives the Great Serpent an intelligent, haunting quality that I cannot bear.
Horror is a notoriously subjective genre. What might be petrifying to you could be utterly mundane, or even downright comical, to someone else. For instance, Layers of Fear is a game that evidently touches a nerve with many players, yet sadly I get nothing from it other than a few chuckles at the expense of its more outlandish imagery. The same goes for critical darlings like Amnesia or Condemned, which I’ve repeatedly tried (and failed) to get into.
With that said, whilst there are plenty of fully-fledged horror titles that have left me cold, the altercations with Sekiro’s ‘’Great Serpent’’ consistently reduced me to a quivering wreck. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that nothing else in the medium has ever had such a pronounced impact on me, to the point where I seriously considered quitting the game for good, because I just couldn’t face it anymore.
The ’’Great Serpent’’ embodies everything about snakes that chills me to the bone. The cloudy eyes that indicate shedding; the dislocated jaw used for swallowing food whole; the flickering tongue that’s always seeking out new prey; the incessant hissing; and the coiling body that covers everything in view. It checks all the horrifying boxes.
As a nerve-wracking stealth encounter, you don’t have the opportunity to rush through it either. Instead, you must take it excruciatingly slow and remain calm even when the malevolent fiend is draped right above you. On that note, FromSoftware did a fantastic job of making you worry that you’re constantly on the verge of being detected, with the serpent lingering in the vicinity for an unbearable amount of time, investigating all potential hiding spots, and wrapping itself around the area so that your escape route gradually shrinks.
The highly expressive facial animations play into this as well, by making your nemesis look unusually shrewd and cunning. Like an expert stalker that knows just how to apply the pressure. I loathed every minute of it. You know, in a good way.