It is plainly false that a good horror is one which more often grabs at the guts than makes you think — that turns toward interpretative ambiguity and treads somewhere through the psychological backroads of human fear, delving into socio-cultural contexts. Because after all, nothing beats a solid blow from an axe delivered to corporeal teenagers by a masked murderer or a specter jumping out from under the bed.
However, regardless of creative intentions and ambitions, one particularly fascinating device is the presence of children, who more often than being heroes in and of themselves become in horror cinema and games carriers of metaphors, filters and lenses the nature of which adults use to observe what torments them.
The upcoming “Little Nightmares III” reminds us once again how effectively one can encapsulate in these small figures not only innocence and helplessness but also anxiety — provoking emotional discomfort and initiating reflection.
Usually children are nothing more than pawns on a nightmarish board, because the fears they experience often seem insignificant or imperceptible to adults. Danny Torrance from the memorable “The Shining” witnesses unimaginable evil he cannot fully oppose; yet it is his yet-untainted, innocent sensitivity that allows him to connect with supernatural phenomena.
A similar role is played by children in Poltergeist or the “It” duology, where a child’s perspective is key to the plot and indeed shapes the very happening of events. The point is primordial fears, which can’t be diluted by rational explanations adults might first seek.
Horror games, like cinema, often turn to children, and the interactive aspect lets us feel the fragility of these young protagonists almost physically. In Among the Sleep, for example, the player becomes a two-year-old searching for a lost teddy bear in a dark house, where the threat is heightened not only by the child’s limited mobility but also by the overwhelming size of the surrounding environment.
A house which might seem normal to an adult becomes a realm of nightmares for a child. Even Limbo places the player in the shoes of a lost, helpless boy. Similarly, Bramble draws from Scandinavian folklore on this foundation.
The Little Nightmares series, it seems, is somewhat more narratively refined: in its surreal world, the child protagonists locked within it live among grotesque figures and piles of oppressive horror props that become allegorical on levels interpretable only by adults. It addresses themes like violence and consumerism, social pressure and alienation.
Still, it is horror, and on a more literal level these confrontations are with fears we long ago forgot or consciously suppressed, because we no longer experience them directly or in such a suggestive form. That is why children serve as mirrors in which we can look at ourselves and see threats and anxieties that adulthood has exiled behind our backs.
Characters in Little Nightmares symbolize not only helpless innocence but also metaphors of individuals facing a system that quite literally tries to consume them. This is no longer purely childish fear. Attempts to reclaim control over life place us simultaneously as victims and as rebel individuals fighting for autonomy in collision with a cruel world — which, all too familiar, rings painfully true.
Using child figures overall allows entry into a space where fear is not merely a visual or sensory effect, but a psychological and emotional experience. This, however, requires creators to balance unsettling the audience intentionally with not crossing the boundaries of their psychological comfort.
Hence, the style tends to be grotesque and surreal, which helps avoid showing literal cruelty. But children are not necessarily powerless. The protagonists of Little Nightmares use their small size and keen minds as tools allowing them to slip past more powerful adversaries, who often underestimate them. The interactive medium of games makes excellent use of the child’s perspective, letting us notice a world whose existence, as adults, we may not fully realize. What’s familiar can become utterly strange.
Thus true horror always lies in the confrontation with that which within us has been tainted by adulthood.
A few days ago Little Nightmares III premiered — another chapter of this dark tale about fear, innocence, and growing up in a world that tries to devour us. The game is available in boxed version in stores and offers full Polish subtitles, making it easier to immerse in its unsettling atmosphere. What’s more, the creators introduced a Friends Pass, allowing this nightmare to be experienced together with a friend or loved one — even if the second person doesn’t own their own copy.
