This review contains spoilers!

The hardest part to accept about Daemonologie is that there are no answers.

Though maybe for some, it's the fact that the game isn't exactly... fun. In some ways, it might even be the perfect antithesis.

When I first booted up the game, I expected the standard video game format of multiple endings and right or wrong. After all, when you see a game tagged with 'choices matter' there's a little part of you that expects something bigger. It's a trend we've seen countless times in games and one that often gives us the power to choose exactly how we want our story to play out. But the magic of Daemonologie isn't caused by witchcraft, but rather the knowledge that in the end every choice you make only benefits you. And you may not even realize it at first.

In fact, my own bias while playing wasn't something I could ignore. Immediately, I let my suspicions fall upon the Father - my own internalized discomfort with religion prominent in my mind even before I had learned the identity of the other villagers. His sexism and clear infatuation with the Maiden was more than enough to cast my doubts upon him; all I could see was a man who didn't stand for his own principals. But still, I wondered, was it too obvious for the game to take such a seemingly common horror route? The man meant to be the most pious in league with Devil? It's not unheard of in these kinds of stories.

Then came the first dream.

From the start, the game gave me a clear message: every night, the Witch Finder will have a prophetic dream. When a game gives you such an obvious guide, you know it matters - it's the metaphorical game manual stuffed into the side of your PS2 case. A little bit of immersion broken so you can know the rules of the world you're in and how to follow them. Without it, you're stuck learning the rules on your own and that just isn't for everyone.

So I listened and the dream was clear. Watching as stop motion horrors played upon the screen, both confusing and nauseating, I saw my answer. I was right. For whatever reason, the story had gone with the choice that, to me, seemed like the most obvious. The one I almost wanted, just as much as I expected; because... we're also warned that zealotry is playing a role here. It's another hint, but one that had me nodding and reminding myself of the cruelty religion had inflicted upon others during these trials. What was one more?

Then the sun rose and I spent several minutes clicking. I talked to everyone again, some answers unchanged and going in circles as I wondered, had I glitched my game? Had I somehow softlocked myself with the obvious answer and made it so I couldn't progress. My sundial didn't move... and then I realized, I did have an option. One I had been avoiding since the start. Sure, talking had gotten me my answer, but to the right, just as stark against the black was another action: 'Torture.'

It was clear what I was expected to do and even as I hovered over the button, I felt myself frowning. I was reluctant, even in fiction, to inflict such methods on anyone to claim victory. But... it's just a game. So, I clicked... and then I clicked again... and again. There wasn't much talking left to be done. I got a confession. Then another. Not just of witchcraft; it turns out everyone has reasons to dislike their neighbors, petty as they may be. And in the height of religious zealotry, it turns out there's an easy answer to get rid of the people you hate. All it costs is a little lie.

So I made my final choice, knowing most of it was built upon hatred, be that for sickness, ableism, sexism, and hearsay.

And the Witch Finder walked away with pockets just a bit heavier than when he arrived.

And like a loop, those thirty or so minutes could play on repeat - a happy ending, but for whom?

As I said at the beginning, Daemonologie is not a fun game, but it's clearly not meant to be. One may even struggle to call it a game at all, but the importance of it's story comes from the player clicking the next action. Without you, the story can't happen and you aren't meant to see an ending. You have a job, so do it. And isn't that the reality of these hunts? Because what did they really find torturing witches and who stood to benefit from ever false accusation?

In the end, it's the Witch Finder who gets his answers, while the player is left to grapple with horrors they chose to help him commit... alone, staring at a dark screen.

What can be said about Amnesia: The Bunker that hasn't already been said?

In many ways, this is my perfect horror experience and one that manages to improve upon it's predecessors within the series while not belittling their contributions to its own success. You can still feel the same oppression within the walls of the titular bunker that you felt throughout the series, but now the gameplay does something so new that the experience doesn't feel like a rehashing of the same old story. You're not just being chased by another unstoppable monster and forced hide as you uncover the secrets that have lead to your own suffering. Puzzles aren't solved with one answer or tool. You're not even limited to a set path that drives the narrative forward as you delve deeper into the confines of the claustrophobic environment.

In fact, there's an almost overwhelming sense of freedom.

It's disorienting, both to the player and Henri as you traverse the narrow paths of dirt and wood. The saying that a locked door has a key becomes too simple because why use a key when you have a bullet? Why waste your defenses when a quieter method may be just around the corner? One might expect this to become too much; a frustrating lack of guidance when the biggest threat to progress can never be defeated for long. But there's an excitement that comes with using your own logic to solve a problem. It's more rewarding than the usual puzzle with one answer and when you're forging your own path, even through danger? The challenge becomes worth it.

The question is no longer: how would Frictional Games want me to solve the puzzle they created?

Instead, now Frictional is asking: how does the player solve the problem in front of them? How do they manage resources? What do they value and when does it become important?

Henri is the protagonist, but now, the player is Henri - they guide every choice he makes within the logic the game. Sure, there are set pieces and a journal to guide you towards the inevitable ending(s), but the choices on how you get there and when are vast. How much risk are you willing to take? How do you confront or avoid the Beast? How do you spend your precious fuel and when? It's a game that makes you plan ahead and celebrate when you've made the right choice.

There's so much more here than claustrophobia and darkness, though the game does have that in spades, but where it shines is it's attention to detail and its encouragement of the player. The brilliant AI of the Beast presents an actual challenge that makes every encounter you walk away from feel like a victory. The story is well thought out, paying honor to the previous titles in the series while still feeling like a refresh that was needed. It proves again that Frictional Games is a modern master of the horror genre that delivers on promises and strives to do more with each release. it shows that they value fun and that the player is just as important to the gameplay as any other piece of the code, art, or sound.

Play this game. Don't look at walkthroughs.

Just play it and confront it as yourself. Encourage yourself to really have fun with how you would approach a problem because that is probably the best solution.