5. The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask

If someone wanted to make the argument that Majora’s Mask is a horror game, I wouldn’t argue. The direct follow-up to Ocarina of Time reuses the previous game’s engine and assets but rearranges everything, making something that’s entirely new for the Zelda franchise. The familiar imagery of Ocarina is now surreal, unsettling, and even more compelling.

The design philosophy feels like the definition of macabre art. The antagonist of the game is the Skull Kid, who possesses the titular Majora’s Mask. But your real enemy is time itself. Link’s mission? Save the land of Termina in three days by stopping a very evil-looking moon from crashing into it.

The game’s atmosphere is grim. The only thing standing between Termina and the apocalypse is Link. The game is designed from multiple angles to make you, the player, feel anxious about time. The HUD shows a ticking clock at the bottom of the screen. The game’s main hub area, Clock Town, is located in the center of the world map. In the center of the town is a giant ticking clock that houses the game’s final boss, further communicating to the player the game’s real enemy.

Majora’s Mask is gruesome. The Zelda franchise’s equivalent of body horror happens anytime Link puts on one of the shapeshifting masks, with Link recoiling and screaming in pain as he changes into a Deku, Goron, or Zora. This visual representation of pain ties into the bleeding heart of the game: Link acquires these transformations by healing fallen characters and embodying their pain. Majora’s Mask feels very purposeful, its multifaceted aesthetics working synergistically to create something bold, unsettling, yet tearfully tender.