Fatal Frame has always been a game of two conflicting halves: the cold-sweat creep through the murk juxtaposed against brisk head-to-heads with J-horror phantoms. When these anti-Caspers materialise, out comes the Camera Obscura, entombing the spooks on celluloid. But while the teeth clench as ghost proximity is risked for stronger snaps, the sudden fizzing to life of an exhaustive points breakdown – a mess of onscreen commentary – is guaranteed to instantly deflate the situation.
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