Somewhere along the way, describing something as a "power fantasy" became a negative. Adventures where players slowly acquire the tools to overcome any challenge were the norm for decades, so perhaps people just got sick of the tropes. Nowadays, there are plenty of games that try to fight back against these standard conventions, whether it be through in-depth storytelling, a focus on exploration, or some grander emotional message. Carrion is none of these things, instead reminding players why power fantasy works so well, and how it can have dire consequences in the wrong hands.

A self-described "reverse-horror game" from Devolver Digital and the team at Phobia Game Studio, Carrion sees players take control of an unnamed science experiment gone wrong. This is a rotating mass of glowing eyes, gnashing teeth and dripping red goo that craves flesh, growing and healing its wounds whenever it bites the head off another victim. It can effortlessly climb walls, squeeze through gaps, and bash through whatever barriers block its path. Coming to life deep underground in a facility very much aware of its escape, the creature must smash its way through each room and find a way to the surface, where it can continue its feast.

All of this comes through without a hint of in-game narrative. There aren't cutscenes explaining why some scientists tried to play god. Audio logs are not inexplicably hidden in every nook and cranny. It's the type of experience where too much explanation would only get in the way of well-considered mechanics, instantly fun scenarios, and a strong atmosphere. Players get the tools to fill in the blanks, or they can choose to ignore everything and just enjoy the carnage. Either way, Carrion trusts the player to pick up what it's laying down, both in terms of its minimal story and its tricky gameplay scenarios.


In certain games, it's a nightmare to drop in without any sort of tutorial, but Carrion is the rare exception that learns from the mistakes of others. The creature's toolset grows with every stage, but there's never more than one or two ways to solve any problem. The answer isn't always obvious, but any halt in progress come from players not using the creature's full potential rather than unruly difficulty spike. Unless hunting for secrets is on the to-do list, backtracking isn't really a factor, either, which keeps the experience going at a crisp pace. When keeping to the critical path, the game flows beautifully, creating a four to five-hour campaign that doesn't overstay its welcome.

All of this superb linear gameplay comes on top of graphics and animation that need to be seen to be truly appreciated. It's hypnotizing to watch Carrion's lead creature crawl and skulk around its environment. Tentacles clasp at every available surface as the mass lurches forward like a tidal wave of carnage. Sections of its body compress and stretch like a horror-themed Looney Tune. The way it strikes out at humans and drones seems alien even as it's controlled by a player. The whole vibe is enjoyably upsetting, a truly singular journey that no player will soon forget.


So yes, Carrion is a power fantasy, but its not the type of power a player may be used to wielding. Carrion's human forces take so little effort to dispatch that they become easy hurdles rather than true opposition. It causes the players to think about them as afterthoughts in the pursuit of progress, just as a cold unfeeling alien monster would. The name of the game is survival, and the goal is to escape containment and leave no prisoners. It's easy to cast victims aside in the chase for more power and expanding influence. The true horror of the mission in Carrion only sets in as the credits roll.

Carrion is available now on PC via Steam and GOG, Xbox One, and Nintendo Switch.