I had very good intentions when I started playing Resident Evil 7 for the first time earlier this year. “Resident Evil Village doesn’t come out for months,” I said to myself. “It’s a 10-hour game, that’s plenty of time to get this finished.” Reader, I have not finished Resident Evil 7. After finally beating old Mr Baker down in that claustrophobic basement with the swinging meat sacks, I put down my controller and walked away. It had been a particularly stressful evening of dying, chainsawing and more dying, and I needed a break. I had intended to go back, but recently when I’ve had a spare hour or two to decompress with a game, I’ve more often than not gravitated towards a quick round of lovely chill Dorfromantik than put myself through the remaining horrors of the Baker estate.
I did, however, finally go back to Resi 7 last night, and golly, as much as I hate the horrible rotting corpses of the Bakers three, I had forgotten about the sheer horror of Ethan Winters’ mangled hand. Look away now if you don’t want to lose your lunch.