Editorials
Grave Robbing and Grisly Creatures: The Horror Elements of 1996’s ‘Tomb Raider’ Video Game
Even non-gamers are aware of the massive cultural impact that 1996’s Tomb Raider had on media. Not only did Eidos Interactive’s iconic release revolutionize adventure narratives in gaming, updating the simple thrills of titles like Pitfall into a truly immersive interactive experience, but it also gifted us with one of pop culture’s most recognizable characters through Lara Croft, a badass gaming mascot who is still holding her own against gun-toting super-soldiers and Italian plumbers in the year of our lord 2022.
Though the series has come a long way since the 90s, breaking boundaries with over a dozen mainline sequels, reboots and even a handful of cinematic adaptations (none of which were masterpieces but are still entertaining for a myriad of different reasons), there’s one aspect of the original game that rarely gets the attention it deserves despite being a crucial part of Tomb Raider’s overwhelming success.
Naturally, I’m referring to the game’s surprising amount of horror elements. While Tomb Raider is by no means a definitive example of survival-horror, the game has an undeniable affinity for scary imagery and takes advantage of genre tropes to make the experience more memorable. And even a quarter century after the release of this early 3D classic, I think its polygonal scares are effective enough to still be worth talking about.
Right off the bat, Tomb Raider‘s presentation and central gameplay loop is very reminiscent of early survival-horror titles. The premise alone is chilling enough, with players accompanying a solitary protagonist who finds herself in isolated caverns and catacombs, beset by death on all sides and forced to rely only on her wits and clunky tank-like combat controls to survive. Hell, from the introductory wolf attack to the gory death-traps that await novice players unfamiliar with the peculiar control scheme, the only thing keeping this from turning into an outright horror game is Lara’s nonchalant demeanor and her willingness to embark on terrifying adventures in order to explore.

Not exactly a Summer Vacation.
While the aforementioned tank-like movement may not necessarily have been an artistic choice on the developer’s part (after all, these were the early days of three-dimensional gaming, so it’s not like there were that many options), there’s no denying that the added difficulty makes these death-defying jumps and enemy ambushes all the more terrifying. In fact, a simple glance at the game’s modernized sequels and reboots is enough to realize that many of the original title’s thrills are no longer as effective now that Lara is capable of more naturalistic movement and combat thanks to easier platforming and traditional third-person shooter controls.
Some creative level design also contributed to a certain feeling of helplessness that permeates the experience. The perilous areas of Tomb Raider may have been designed in grid-like patterns in order to facilitate three-dimensional navigation, but these geometric labyrinths still contain plenty of unexpected deaths lurking around every corner. Fans of the title are sure to remember the game’s many surprise impalements and borderline unfair trap placement, and that’s not even mentioning the often-grueling combat.
While most enemy encounters consist of awkwardly mowing down endangered animals in claustrophobic environments, panic-shooting a rabid bear as you use stiff controls to narrowly avoid its deadly claws is honestly way more thrilling than it initially sounds. I dare you not to mumble “oh shit” to yourself the first time that you stumble onto a giant T-Rex and realize that you’re woefully unequipped to deal with this prehistoric threat. If you think about it, the only thing keeping Tomb Raider from embracing full-on survival horror combat is the unlimited ammo and lack of melee weapons, though the game still makes clever use of classic inventory management and scarce health packs.
Shooting up dinosaurs like a 1930s Willis O’Brien movie is admittedly more fun than terrifying, but there’s no denying the monster movie influences that makes these moments so entertaining in the first place. The game really takes a scary turn when it begins to introduce supernatural threats like fleshy Atlanteans and undead centaurs into the mix. Sure, the primitive graphics leave a lot to the imagination, but I think that’s precisely why these eerie monster designs are so effective, letting players fill in the gruesome gaps in their own heads.

Would this really be scarier in HD?
The horror aesthetics don’t stop with the grisly creatures, as Tomb Raider’s titular grave-robbing has Lara venture into spooky locations brought to life by the clever use of minimalist polygons and expertly mixed ambience tracks. While Nathan McCree’s memorable soundtrack is used sparingly, it helps to convey an appropriate sense of fear and awe.
Additionally, the final areas of the game feature a series of nightmarish designs that would have been right at home in a Silent Hill spin-off. The hellish imagery present in the Atlantean levels borders on H.P. Lovecraft, bringing to mind the archeological terror of stories like The Shadow Out of Time or even At the Mountains of Madness. Some of the game’s fleshy textures and other scary elements were actually toned down for the 2006 remake Tomb Raider Anniversary, which streamlined gameplay but is otherwise a relatively faithful recreation of the original experience.
While future Tomb Raider games would still lean into the horror aspects of Lara’s globe-trotting adventures, I firmly believe that none of them quite managed to balance the fun/scare ratio as well as the first game. The way I see it, the sequels made Lara too much of a badass for players to really fear for her well-being, and the recent reboot trilogy made the supernatural horror elements trivial due to the streamlined gameplay (despite making an effort to actually humanize our protagonist). This also extends to the movie adaptations, which have always focused on Raiders-of-the-Lost-Ark-inspired romps and CGI-infused spectacle despite the first game feeling more in line with the scary thrills of The Temple of Doom.
However, with Square Enix supposedly moving forward with a new take on the franchise (which is rumored to feature an older and more experienced Lara) and a new movie in the works now that MGM has lost the license to the IP, I think there’s a chance that a future title might bring back some of the original game’s spooky magic. After all, having the Lady Croft overcome historical horrors makes her action-packed take on archeology all the more entertaining – not to mention badass.
Editorials
How ‘Weapons’, ‘Hokum’, and ‘Widow’s Bay’ Continue Stephen King’s Horror Legacy
After fifty years of continuous writing, Stephen King has become a genre unto himself.
The unrivaled Master of Horror made a splash in 1974 with his debut novel Carrie and has been terrifying readers ever since. Two years later, Brian De Palma brought this shocking story to the screen with an equally electrifying horror film that remains a genre classic and a prototypical example of “Good For Her” horror. This dual debut seemed to open the floodgates, unleashing endless waves of Stephen King films.
From the highs of Misery, Cujo, and The Shawshank Redemption to the schlocky fun of Cat’s Eye, Creepshow, and Children of the Corn, the last five decades have seen just about every notable horror creator take a stab at the author’s massive collection.
In recent years, this singular subgenre has begun to burst at the seams, expanding to include Stephen King-esque fare. In 2016, brothers Matt and Ross Duffer debuted Stranger Things, a sci-fi series heavily inspired by two of King’s most famous books. The Netflix series remixes Firestarter and It by following a little girl with psychic powers and an intrepid group of kids on bikes who must battle an otherworldly foe and a sinister government agency. With its clever blend of modern effects and comforting nostalgia, this gateway horror series paved the way for Andy Muschietti’s It adaptation which remains the highest grossing horror film of all time.
Four years later, Mike Flanagan would create Midnight Mass, a spiritual adaptation of King’s second novel Salem’s Lot. Published in 1975, the book sees a tiny New England town torn apart by a centuries-old vampire. Though Flanagan’s story is perhaps more tender, both iterations of the classic horror tale follow close-knit communities shaken to their core by the presence of an ancient evil.
In addition to these recent hits, 2025 was a banner year for the Master of Horror. Audiences delighted in six mainstream adaptations, including the massively popular It: Welcome to Derry which chronicles earlier cycles of the titular clown’s reign. With this boost to King’s cultural cache, it’s no surprise that we’ve begun to see more unofficial adaptations of the author’s work and horror creators who build their own unique castles in King’s creative sandbox.
So what defines a Stephen King-esque story?
For the past fifty years, the prolific author has dipped his toes in nearly every subgenre from supernatural stories and grisly gore to western fantasy and science fiction. Including his vast catalogue of short fiction, King has tackled ghosts, demons, werewolves, zombies, aliens, mutants, and self-driving cars, not to mention bizarre monsters of his own creation. But what truly unites this vast array of horror is King’s focus on relatable characters. In his 2000 memoir/instructional text On Writing, the prolific author describes the amusement he finds in writing disparate characters, placing them in horrific scenarios, then exploring the ways they try to survive.
An unofficial Stephen King adaptation may take place in the author’s native New England — bonus points if it’s set in Maine — and reference his well-known heroes and villains. But what makes the King connection unbreakable is a character-driven story about average people who band together in the face of abject terror.
Weapons Captures Small Town Stephen King

Following his 2022 shocker Barbarian, Zach Cregger returned with Weapons, a sprawling story that begins in a doomed elementary school. On an otherwise ordinary day, Justine (Julia Garner) arrives at her desk to find that all but one of her students have disappeared. As the mystery grows increasingly violent, Justine and Archer (Josh Brolin), the father of a missing boy, find their way to the home of Alex (Cary Christopher), the class’ only surviving student. In some ways reminiscent of Salem’s Lot, Weapons swings wildly through the unfortunate town, introducing us to its flawed inhabitants as we watch their lives fall apart.
Cregger’s setup nods to a pair of King short stories. Both “Suffer the Little Children” and “Here There Be Tygers” tackle monstrous presences in elementary schools, but as Weapons reaches its final act, Constant Readers may remember another Stephen King tale. Featured in his 1985 collection Skeleton Crew, “Gramma” introduces us to George, a little boy tormented by an aging witch. On an afternoon alone with his sickly grandmother, the frightened child gradually realizes that the imposing old woman has been waiting for an opportunity to cast a spell that will extend her own life by possessing his body.
Alex finds himself similarly tortured by his aunt Gladys (Amy Madigan), a garish witch who orchestrates a desperate plot to sustain her own strength. Transforming humans into mindless weapons, Gladys has taken over Alex’s family home and lured his classmates to the basement. Holding them in a comatose state, she syphons off their energy to extend her own supernatural life.
Vastly different in many ways, both “Gramma” and Weapons hinge on a sinister witch who uses horrific magical spells to sacrifice the bodies of her vulnerable prey.
Hokum Echoes The Shining and 1408

It’s nearly impossible to watch a film about a haunted hotel without thinking of King’s third novel, The Shining. This icy story follows Jack Torrance, an angry writer struggling with his sobriety and a shameful incident haunting his past. Accompanied by his wife and young son, Jack has taken a job as the winter caretaker for the Overlook, a haunted hotel situated high in the Rocky Mountains. Snowed in, Jack finds himself tormented by dangerous ghosts who amplify his greatest fears.
Damian McCarthy’s Hokum follows a similarly troubled figure. Ohm Bauman (Adam Scott) is a surly writer who travels to the Bilberry Woods Hotel in rural Ireland to spread his parents’ ashes. Haunted by his own tragic past, Ohm finds himself trapped in the honeymoon suite, a decaying room that’s been permanently closed to protect visitors from a dangerous witch trapped within its walls. Visual nods to King’s text abound with woodcut figurines and an animated clock, mirroring ominous descriptions found in King’s text.
Another terrifying sequence sees Ohm staring with horror at a closed door, the only thing separating him from the approaching witch. As the door knob slowly turns, Constant Readers remember Jack’s narrow escape from the ghostly woman in room 217. And Ohm’s popular Conquistador books directly reference King’s long-running fantasy series The Dark Tower which follows a gunslinger named Roland Deschain tasked with protecting the nexus of the universe.
In addition to these thematic comparisons, Hokum bears striking resemblance to King’s terrifying short story “1408.” Collected in 2002’s Everything’s Eventual, the terrifying story follows Mike Enslin, a dejected writer who’s risen to fame penning essays about his adventures in haunted locations. Mike arrives at the Hotel Dolphin and bullies his way into the titular room, despite the manager’s dire warnings. McCarthy nods to this story with an ominously misplaced hotel room door, reminiscent of King’s entry to 1408, an unsuspecting portal that appears to move each time Mike looks away.
However, McCarthy’s most direct reference lies in a minicorder Ohm uses to capture notes. Trapped inside the dreaded honeymoon suite, this device offers well-timed messages while sitting next to a decomposing corpse. Mike records his time in 1408 with his own trusty minicorder. Described for the reader, his tape has captured the man’s slow descent into madness as the room prepares to swallow him whole. With conclusions that differ wildly in tone, both Ohm and Mike find their lives irrevocably changed by encounters with the supernatural realm.
Widow’s Bay Builds Its Own Version of Castle Rock

Katie Dippold’s Widow’s Bay has taken the idea of an unofficial King adaptation and turned it into an art form. The Apple TV series sees the residents of the titular island plagued by a curse that dates back centuries. Not only does the picturesque hamlet not accommodate wifi connections, those born on the island face certain death should they ever try to leave. Desperate to modernize the tiny town, Mayor Tom Loftis (Matthew Rhys) draws in waves of tourists just as a new cycle of terror begins.
Blending horror with deft comedy, Dippold makes cheeky references to King’s body of work. Tom warns that, “there’s something in the fog,” reminding readers of King’s 1980 novella The Mist. And Loftis’ own stay in the town’s haunted hotel sees him tormented by the ghost of a murderous clown. We even spy a vintage King hardback peeking out of a local book trade box.
In many ways Widow’s Bay feels like a new iteration of the author’s Little Tall Island, a tiny village off the coast of Maine. In addition to the 1992 novel Dolores Claiborne and a handful of harrowing short stories, this quaint fishing village is also the setting for King’s 1999 teleplay Storm of the Century. Premiering on ABC primetime, this tragic tale follows a terrified group of islanders who batten down the hatches for a dangerous Nor’easter only to find a more sinister threat lurking within.
Constant Readers may also be reminded of Castle Rock, the author’s favorite fictional town.
First introduced in the 1981 novel Cujo, the charming village becomes the star of Needful Things, King’s satire about consumerism. After several Castle Rock stories, we’re reintroduced to its residents as they gossip about the arrival of Leland Gaunt and the grand opening of his curio shop. Anything their hearts desire can be found in his varied inventory, so long as they’re willing to pay the price. Pitting cantankerous neighbors against each other, Gaunt ignites a wave of grisly violence by exploiting long-held resentments and feuds.
The town’s only defense against this supernatural threat is beleaguered sheriff Alan Pangborn. Still grieving the deaths of his wife and younger son, Alan struggles to connect with his older child and pick up the pieces of his shattered life. Also a widower, Loftis struggles to raise his own restless son and explain the strange details of his wife’s tragic death. Attempting to unravel the island’s dark secrets, Tom is aided by quirky residents including a surly fisherman named Wyck (Stephen Root) and Patricia (Kate O’Flynn), an earnest Town Hall employee. King’s own novels feature many of these proactive alliances with disparate characters combining their strengths to overcome insurmountable odds.
With Widow’s Bay renewed for a second season and Mike Flanagan’s Carrie series on the horizon, the future seems bright for new King adaptations, both spiritual and directly pulled from his catalogue. The prolific author also shows no signs of slowing down with two publications nearing release. His upcoming novel, Other Worlds Than These, is the long-awaited third Talisman book which teases direct ties to his Dark Tower world. Holly Forever will be a new installment of his crime series, offering a different kind of genre fare.
This embarrassment of riches spawning multiple worlds seems ripe for spiritual adaptation and will likely inspire horror creators for decades to come.

Kate O’Flynn, Stephen Root and Matthew Rhys in “Widow’s Bay,” now streaming on Apple TV.

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