Eldritch Horror is a cooperative game best enjoyed when embraced like an evening-long horror story: you light a candle, rally a few like-minded adventurers, and lean into its Lovecraftian lore. While the core loop is simple in concept - gather clues, battle monsters, solve mysteries - it has a learning curve that’s best tackled by an experienced guide. Most actions require rolling D6s. That random chaos, while thematic, means even well-prepared investigators can fail spectacularly due to bad rolls. That amounts to a narrative that often feels like it’s happening to you, though, rather than being shaped by you. Not for the faint of heart - or short of time - but Eldritch Horror is undeniably memorable.

Few games have managed to etch themselves into the collective psyche of gamers quite like Silent Hill. It’s not just some haunted house simulator - it’s a spiral of dread, wrapped in fog and radio static. Where most horror games throw monsters at you, Silent Hill burrows deep into your subconscious and makes you live your fears. The fog isn't just a clever trick to hide limited graphics either - it’s a metaphor for your life choices. Visibility: zero. Anxiety: maxed. And just when you think it’s safe, the town flips into “Hell Edition,” which looks like your worst nightmares. What you hear, too, is sometimes more terrifying than what you see. Akira Yamaoka’s score is a masterclass in auditory unease. From the soundscape’s eerily industrial clanks to its melancholic piano melodies, you always feel like you’re drowning in the unknown. Silent Hill isn’t just a game you beat, it’s a mirror you stare into for too long. Decades later, its fog still lingers and its questions still haunt. In a word: timeless.