Even the most virtuous saint can have a sinister streak. The important part is whether or not you actually act on those dark impulses. That's one of the things that make video games so interesting - you can have fun exploring your meaner instincts without worrying about hurting anyone, going to jail, or destroying anything important. But just because you're in a safe, digital environment, doesn't mean that there aren't any consequences to your actions.

Even when games give you carte blanche to run wild and destroy everything, there's still a good chance that the developers have snuck in some kind of morality to, erm, 'nudge' you in the right direction. Whether that means sending an army after you to punish you for your transgressions or just killing you outright, these games make a point to teach you a lesson for your evil, evil ways.

This is classic video game punishment that still has the power to mentally scar anyone who dares attempt it. Attacking those innocent, feathery Cuccos that appear throughout Hyrule will cause them to swarm after you in a frenzied rage, and the only way to get them to stop is to leave the current area. It's a staple of the series, appearing in games like A Link to the Past, Ocarina of Time, and even spin-offs like Hyrule Warriors. Luckily, one or two hits won't set them off - you have to be incredibly deliberate in your quest to draw their ire.

Samus Aran may not talk a lot, but she's generally considered a good, kind-hearted person, always showing up to save the day when duty (or a few dollars) calls. But Metroid Prime 3 lets you take a few potshots at one of its few NPCs milling about near the beginning. You can't actually hurt them, but if you keep it up, a little turret drops down to defend them from your senseless aggression. Blow that turret up, and another, stronger one drops down to replace it. Destroy that one, and an even bigger turret shows up, and .

Shadow Warrior takes the "retribution against animal cruelty" to a whole new level. Most of the creatures you can eviscerate in the 2013 reboot deserve it, as the only thing that doesn't want to kill you outright are some bunnies you'll see milling about and… *ahem* getting amorous with each other. Try to interrupt their lovemaking by shooting them, however, and suddenly these innocent rabbits start hunting you down with lightning-quick speed while heavy metal blares in the background. Lesson learned.

No one likes a team killer, but Conker's Bad Fur Day's will actually call you out on your indiscretions. Take out too many of your own teammates, and you'll be branded a traitor. Soon, you'll find that there's nowhere to hide, as your AI compatriots will hunt you down until someone finally kills you. The final insult comes as they shout things like "Fucking traitor!" as they pump you full of lead.

The Badi Dea (say it fast) is a Star Destroyer that originally showed up in the classic space-sim X-Wing. The name is a hint; you're supposed to run away from this behemoth as fast as you possibly can, before it and its endless waves of fighters shred your ship to bits. But in the semi-sequel TIE Fighter, the Badi Dea is one of your allies - unless you decide to take out one of the ships you're supposed to be protecting. Apparently, the Empire considers this to be treason (with good reason), and sends the Badi Dea after you. It won't stop until you've been pounded into so much space dust.

Many games don't like it when you attack animals with wanton cruelty, but Metal Gear Solid 2 is one of the few to actually try to make you feel really guilty about it. Once you first climb out of the depths of the Big Shell and into the sunlight, you'll notice that the sky is filled with seagulls - who are more than willing to take a crap on you if you stand in one place for too long. If you spend too much time getting revenge by shooting them out of the sky, you'll get a call from the Colonel and your girlfriend Rose, asking you, in so many words, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" You can't even save your game until you apologize to Rose. You know what you did.

Half of the fun of those old King's Quest games was trying to outsmart the text parser by typing in random stuff and seeing if the game would do something with it. In some situations, it actually would - usually with hilarious results. If you walk into the church in King's Quest 2 and , the game actually throws up its hands in disgust. "Anyone who would kill a man of the cloth doesn't deserve to play this game. Therefore, we will end it," the game reads, promptly killing you dead on the spot. A simple "no" would have sufficed.

Even the most virtuous saint can have a sinister streak. The important part is whether or not you actually act on those dark impulses. That's one of the things that make video games so interesting - you can have fun exploring your meaner instincts without worrying about hurting anyone, going to jail, or destroying anything important. But just because you're in a safe, digital environment, doesn't mean that there aren't any consequences to your actions.

Even when games give you carte blanche to run wild and destroy everything, there's still a good chance that the developers have snuck in some kind of morality to, erm, 'nudge' you in the right direction. Whether that means sending an army after your to punish you for your transgressions or just killing you outright, these games make a point to teach you a lesson for your evil, evil ways.

This is classic video game punishment that still has the power to mentally scar anyone who dares attempt it. Attacking those innocent, feathery Cuccos that appear throughout Hyrule will cause them to swarm after you in a frenzied rage, and the only way to get them to stop is to leave the current area. It's a staple of the series, appearing in games like A Link to the Past, Ocarina of Time, and even spin-offs like Hyrule Warriors. Luckily, one or two hits won't set them off - you have to be incredibly deliberate in your quest to draw their ire.

Samus Aran may not talk a lot, but she's generally considered a good, kind-hearted person, always showing up to save the day when duty (or a few dollars) calls. But Metroid Prime 3 lets you take a few potshots at one of its few NPCs milling about near the beginning. You can't actually hurt them, but if you keep it up, a little turret drops down to defend them from your senseless aggression. Blow that turret up, and another, stronger one drops down to replace it. Destroy that one, and an even bigger turret shows up, and .

Shadow Warrior takes the "retribution against animal cruelty" to a whole new level. Most of the creatures you can eviscerate in the 2013 reboot deserve it, as the only thing that doesn't want to kill you outright are some bunnies you'll see milling about and… *ahem* getting amorous with each other. Try to interrupt their lovemaking by shooting them, however, and suddenly these innocent rabbits start hunting you down with lightning-quick speed while heavy metal blares in the background. Lesson learned.

No one likes a team killer, but Conker's Bad Fur Day's will actually call you out on your indiscretions. Take out too many of your own teammates, and you'll be branded a traitor. Soon, you'll find that there's nowhere to hide, as your AI compatriots will hunt you down until someone finally kills you. The final insult comes as they shout things like "Fucking traitor!" as they pump you full of lead.

The Badi Dea (say it fast) is a Star Destroyer that originally showed up in the classic space-sim X-Wing. The name is a hint; you're supposed to run away from this behemoth as fast as you possibly can, before it and its endless waves of fighters shred your ship to bits. But in the semi-sequel TIE Fighter, the Badi Dea is one of your allies - unless you decide to take out one of the ships you're supposed to be protecting. Apparently, the Empire considers this to be treason (with good reason), and sends the Badi Dea after you. It won't stop until you've been pounded into so much space dust.

Many games don't like it when you attack animals with wanton cruelty, but Metal Gear Solid 2 is one of the few to actually try to make you feel really guilty about it. Once you first climb out of the depths of the Big Shell and into the sunlight, you'll notice that the sky is filled with seagulls - who are more than willing to take a crap on you if you stand in one place for too long. If you spend too much time getting revenge by shooting them out of the sky, you'll get a call from the Colonel and your girlfriend Rose, asking you, in so many words, "What the hell do you think you're doing?" You can't even save your game until you apologize to Rose. You know what you did.

Half of the fun of those old King's Quest games was trying to outsmart the text parser by typing in random stuff and seeing if the game would do something with it. In some situations, it actually would - usually with hilarious results. If you walk into the church in King's Quest 2 and , the game actually throws up its hands in disgust. "Anyone who would kill a man of the cloth doesn't deserve to play this game. Therefore, we will end it," the game reads, promptly killing you dead on the spot. A simple "no" would have sufficed.

Alas, Silent Hill fans, I come bearing tragic news, for the highly anticipated , we've decided to put aside the Silent Hill that could have been to think about those that could still totally be.

Here we've listed the developers who could create chapters in a Silent Hill anthology, whose unique talents could play to what makes Silent Hill so beloved and unforgettable. If we say it loud and long enough, it's entirely possible that this could exist. Just keep running toward the light in the gloom.

Alan Wake is a perfect template for a bite-sized Silent Hill experience. Remedy intimately understands how geography can impact mood, turning the pine forests of the US northwest into an oppressive landscape for Alan’s nightmares. They also understand how to adapt horror to an episodic format, sustaining tension throughout short levels, bringing the unease to a creepy crest at the very end. And in both Alan Wake and American Nightmare, Remedy showed they can blur the line between realities, twisting our perceptions and short-circuiting our expectations.

All of that experience is reason enough to wish they’d take a crack at a Silent Hill experience, but it’s the terrifying Mr. Scratch that seals it. Most of Silent Hill’s enemies are creeping, unknowable things, but Mr. Scratch, the dark embodiment of Alan’s ego, is all the more terrifying because he’s so recognizable. He simply gives into the impulses that we all have - to take what we want, shove others out of our way, and shape the world to our own specific liking. It would be intriguing to explore a relationship with a denizen of Silent Hill that’s as charming as he is disturbing.

Here's the thing with Silent Hill, it needs to be really freaking weird. That's what I adored about the series' early entries: each one took something familiar - a hospital or a shopping mall - and made it hostile and alien. These games didn't feel like anything else out there, and that unfamiliarity is what made them so scary. When thinking about who could do the bizarre atmosphere of Silent Hill justice, one name jumps to the top of the list: Grasshopper Manufacture.

With a track record that includes Lollipop Chainsaw and No More Heroes, Grasshopper Manufacture and Goichi Suda have a special brand of strange that permeates everything they touch. They've dipped their toe in the horror genre before with Fatal Frame IV. This would be their opportunity to dive headlong into the dark side and make it their own. It would be crass, it would be stylish, and it sure as hell wouldn't feel like any other Silent Hill game - and that's the point. If there's one thing PT demonstrated, it's that you can break the Silent Hill mold and still have a horror game that captures our imaginations.

The Evil Within was easily one of the most contentious games of 2014, and even now the gaming world is divided on whether it's the second-coming of Resident Evil or destined for the bin. But if developer Tango Gameworks did one thing right with this grotesque action-horror, it was coming up with an exceedingly scary concept and pushing it to the limit. If that passion could be redirected into a subtler narrative that's just as frightening, a Tango-directed Silent Hill could be the unsettling child of the horror genre's two greatest rivals.

While The Evil Within (Tango's only gaming endeavor thus far) focused heavily on action sequences, it was arguably at its best when you were simply walking around a house, poking at fresh brains and trying to discover the mystery behind the specter that's relentlessly hunting you. It also knows how to make the immortal stalker concept work, with Boxman exhibiting all the terrifying immortality of Pyramid Head with an extra helping of gore. Perhaps most importantly, Shinji Mikami and his team are adept at realizing their vision with grace and focus, so a Silent Hill game from them would almost assuredly strike at the heart of what makes the series tick.

You might've heard of a PS1 rarity by the name of LSD: Dream Emulator. It's not so much a game as it is a first-person simulation of an acid trip that oscillates between surreal weirdness and full-on terror. Without any goals or direction, you simply wander through 32-bit renditions of disconnected dream sequences, completely unsure of how your surroundings will react to your presence. Ask anyone who's plunged headfirst into this madness (or ), and you'll see just how often things take a turn into deeply disturbing territory. It gets to the point that the player feels like they're being strangled by paranoia and disorientation.

Don't be deceived by the crude graphics; LSD is capable of some truly skin-crawling stuff, like walls inexplicably plastered with creepy face textures, or is still up, so anything's possible.

People often (incorrectly) reduce Gone Home as to nothing more than a "walking simulator", but you know what? There's nowhere that Fullbright's brand of environmental design and exploration would be more at home than the sleepy burg of Silent Hill. Gone Home already toyed with player expectations, building up suspense and horror through simple audio cues, deft storytelling, and a crushing sense of loneliness - a Fullbright Silent Hill game would simply ratchet up those feelings tenfold.

If you're playing Silent Hill for the combat, you're playing the wrong game. Instead, a Fullbright-developed Silent Hill would drop the player into the derelict city long after the horror has since passed - though the evidence of the atrocities committed by its inhabitants still lingers. You'd explore abandoned buildings, reading notes and taking in clues, piecing the story together as you wander through the city's haunting streets. And then… the fog rolls in, and the real terror begins.

Between working on Danganronpa and the Zero Escape series, developer Spike Chunsoft knows how to inject a poignant sense of despair, dread, and (most of all) helplessness in their games. Silent Hill thrives on these emotions. It wants to instill them deep within your psyche, often without you even realizing it. The thematic harmony at work between game and developer makes Spike Chunsoft a natural fit for this long-running horror franchise.

And on a more pragmatic note, what's the one thing people complain about when they complain about Silent Hill? The gameplay. By design, Silent Hill games feel clunky, which is sort of the point but people still don't like it. If Spike Chunsoft were to transform Silent Hill into a visual novel, that awkwardness would be eliminated and you'd be free to focus on all the creepy environments and brain-teasing puzzles. It also allows for a greater focus on narrative, which is important when your backdrop literally runs on the inner turmoil of its characters.

Though From Software is best known for making you want to throw your game system out the window when you lose to that one boss for the tenth freaking time, the company is equally versed at building a living story from vague whispers and hints. Though you could charge through Dark Souls or Bloodborne without ever learning their lore, players that pay close attention can discover frightening and fascinating worlds hidden just out of sight. Silent Hill is all about the horror of what could be lurking beyond that impenetrable fog, so From Software's unique brand of subtle dread would be perfect for low-visibility terror.

Much like other Silent Hill games are built upon subtle clues that can go ignored if you don't pay attention (heck, P.T. has a full story to it that some players never notice), From Software is adept at hiding hints of story in every facet of a game, from to item descriptions to the structure of the world itself. While the company has never done a psychological horror game the likes of Silent Hill, it wouldn't be too tricky to scale back its action-focused elements to hone in on atmosphere. After that it's familiar, lamp-lit territory. The true question is whether From Software could scale back its desire to make you suffer under crushing difficulty instead of just deep-seated fear, but I bet it could pull that off. Just this once.