Halloween: Our Favorite Gaming Cemeteries

“RISE FROM YOUR GRAVE!” A few poorly captured lines of dialogue cemented the notoriety of Altered Beast, a game where you rise from your grave to be an altered beast. The game is, sadly, not good; it’s actually kind of a miserable slog. But Altered Beast did get one thing perfectly (beyond the value of silly voice clips in making your game memorable): cemeteries. As places for the dearly departed to enjoy their eternal rest, as spaces for quiet introspection, these are important for human culture and an example of our relationship with life and death. Look at Giza’s Pyramid Complex, the Taj Mahal, those terrifying German peat bogs; they’re just a few examples of the weight death brings upon the living. You know, it’s an interesting thing when you consider: we Earth people, who can think, are so frightened by those who cannot — the dead. These help placate them.

But as a video game thing, cemeteries are just the perfect place for ghosts, ghouls, zombies, and the rest of the undead to burst from the ground and seek vengeance upon the world. Graveyards and graves rule in video games; it’s like every night is Halloween! They’re an odd level “type” for action games, often filled with clutter (as in, the actual graves you fight around) and creeping, shuffling monsters. So, here are a few that have delighted and terrorized us. We haven’t included Altered Beast itself on here, but we like to think it’s spirit is right here, in this list of graves, tombs, and all manner of resting places. We also won’t be counting the real life burial of thousands of Atari games in the early Eighties. This is for the things we like, and a symbol of the Video Game Crash is very much not that.

Mad Monster Mansion, Banjo-Kazooie (Wolfman Jew):

Mad Monster Mansion is a quintessential “spooky” level, the kind that were everywhere in Nineties 3D platformers. You’ve got the spooky house, the spooky well, the spooky church, the spooky hedge maze… it’s like Rare Ltd was driven to grab every cliché they could. It does mean that the actual “graveyard” section – a patch of graves surrounding the church – is a bit smaller. But that’s fine! It gets at what makes these areas fun: a sense of dark, wild atmosphere. Some of the graves are even undead, chunky foes! There’s also a puzzle involving “watering” flowers by the real graves; it’s oddly sweet for a series that became kinda cynical. Though really, the best part of its cemetery isn’t even in it. The world’s entrance is a much larger graveyard, and at its back is a secret, exciting morgue / witch doctor shack. It’s required to continue the game, and it comes out of nowhere in what had previously been very direct level design. The graveyards are striking, atmospheric, and working as part of a greater, spooky piece. They catch you off guard. And speaking of catching…

Lavender Tower, Pokémon Red & Blue (and Yellow, FireRed & LeafGreen, and Let’s Go) (Wolfman Jew):

Pokémon is pretty renowned for its spooky side. Its occasionally grim lore, and especially its cadre of beloved Ghost-types, makes it one of the patron saints to creepypasta. The series’ creepy tropes and details tend to coalesce nicely around cemeteries and burial chambers, most honoring deceased Pokémon. They’re in every mainline game, from the understated (Old Cemetery, from the just-released The Crown Tundra) to the ostentatious (Mt. Pyre, a literal island mountain of graves). Lavender Town’s Pokémon Tower was the first and, by virtue of multiple remakes, the one with the most appearances. The Pokémon mausoleum dominates its quiet little village; it’s probably the reason the town exists at all. And, of course, it’s haunted by a family of dangerous ghosts. There’s a murdered specter out for vengeance, ghosts who can’t be seen without a special scanner, a kindly caretaker under threat, and a gang of shockingly violent crooks who find themselves way in over their head. Pokémon would add more and more big set pieces as it continued, but there weren’t a lot in its original games. Lavender Tower (a name that stuck with fans far more than its actual one) was one of the few, and it was exciting. Getting in and out is a fun story in its own right. And your reward, a flute that rouses people from the deepest sleep, is a fitting prize.

Threed, EarthBound (Kody NOKOLO)

Those unfamiliar with the MOTHER series may not be acquainted with the oddities found throughout the series. These games are weird. Threed, the third city Ness and friends travel to in EarthBound, takes this weirdness to another level. Half of the city is a cemetery, and the whole city is filled with zombies. Zombies seem like standard fare for a video game cemetery, but other enemies aren’t so normal. The Smelly Ghost and Putrid Moldyman attack from trash cans and can make Ness and his friends’ lives tough by making them cry. Another strange enemy you come across is a living circus tent boss, the Boogey Tent, that’s revealed to be housing jars of Fly Honey inside. Okay, weirder, but the weirdness doesn’t end there. Now, you have to stop the zombie outbreak. The answer? Zombie Paper, of course! It’s basically fly paper for zombies. After laying some of that down, those zombies can’t resist the stuff, and they all get stuck to it. After leaving Threed through a secret exit previously guarded by zombies, you need to stop whatever’s weird-ing up the city with these monsters. Needless to say, the big bad of this super strange area must be an obvious choice, right? Well, if you guessed “a giant pile of sentient puke that loves eating Fly Honey,” you’d be correct. Yep, even for a strange series like MOTHER, I think that tops the weirdness scales, and it’s all those oddities that make Threed so much fun to explore.

The Grave, The Legend of Zelda (Wolfman Jew)

There are a number of graves in the Zelda series. It tracks; you’re often exploring history and engaging with the souls from ages past. They all deserve reference (and, given the tone here, reverence), but I wanted to bring up the very first one, from the original Zelda. Because the game generally possesses this great sense of mystery, dread, and fear, and it’s only ratcheted up when you get to the grave. It’s after navigating the Lost Woods – no small task without knowing its secret – right at the edge of the map. There’s not even a dungeon there, unless you’re playing on the harder difficulty. So it sits as this weird, creepy place, only existing to hold the secret final sword and an easier way to Dungeon 6. The ghost enemies are irritating, and they constantly regenerate, so even Hyrule’s harsh “get stabbed enough and die” logic doesn’t totally track. Once you start accessing better ways to get around, you’re likely to comfortably avoid the place entirely, turning it into yet another one of the game’s bizarre curiosities. But its oddness stays. And it’s really respectable that a game with such a limited art and musical palette could manage to create that tone.

The Lich Yard, Shovel Knight (Hamada)

The world of Shovel Knight features an abundance of challenging stages under the Order of No Quarter’s control, but few leave as strong an impression as Specter Knight’s grim gauntlet. This settlement, its neighboring graveyard, and its hidden catacombs subject wayward travelers to hordes of the undead and plenty of bottomless pits blanketed by shadows. Of course, the most noteworthy attraction found here is a duel with the crimson-cloaked phantom himself, a brutal encounter for new players that’s sure to whip them into shape for the coming trials (with Specter Knight confronting Phantom Striker during his own campaign instead). On top of the level itself, the ghastly experience is amplified by the Relic Shovel Knight can buy off of Chester here, the ludicrously powerful Phase Locket. It allows the Blue Burrower to harness some spectral power for himself by briefly phasing out of harm’s way upon its use. There’s also the area’s incredible music, which received a fantastic remix come Specter of Torment. Overall, as the eternal resting place of one of the title’s most beloved Knights, the Lich Yard is the best early level a player could ask for – and one that provides a new experience with each campaign as the four playable Knights test their mettle against this ever-changing Village of Death.

Underground Cemetery, Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow (Wolfman Jew)

While we’ve got a lot of graveyards here, we only had one mausoleum. They’re perfect for shorter, punchier levels, and Castlevania – which already has plenty of atmospheric cemeteries – does it well in Aria of Sorrow. The game’s underground cemetery is pretty minor: short, simple, and painfully out of the way. It’s one of the smallest areas in the game, which in its own way adds to the atmosphere of making like Bruce Springsteen and goin’ down, down, down. There are some dangerous enemies in its cramped and claustrophobic hallways, but what comes across the worst are zombies in the background. They quietly, slowly shuffle further down the hall, a subtle warning that you’re about the face off against Legion, that most beloved of Castlevania bosses / vague Christian symbolism. And really, the giant, floating corpse ball is a cemetery all on his own! It’s just a cool area, all around. It has a fan favorite boss, it provides a short respite after some grueling challenges, and its creepy ambient music is spooky in its own way. It’s an odd beat, and most of these areas should be odd beats.

Catacombs, Dark Souls (Wolfman Jew)

And going even further into ostentatious burial systems, here’s an entire necropolis! There are a number of things about the Catacombs that really give it that seasonally appropriate feeling. For one thing, despite being a late game area, you can literally access it from almost the start of the game, which gives it this immediate aura of mystery and confusion and spookiness. It also goes against the grain of most of these examples by being huge: the massive pits, giant structures, and a veritable mountain of crypts and tombs make where you are abundantly clear. It’s got these wacky, Jason and the Argonauts style of skeleton soldiers, some of whom ride on spiky wheels that crush you to death, and the rest of whom are constantly revived by warlocks. But what makes the Catacombs – and to a greater extent, the even more abyssal Tomb of the Giants – is that you can’t goddamn see in it, at least not in the parts with some amount of natural light. It’s an underground escape room! There’s even a mediocre boss in a creepy Halloween mask, whose quick and easy fight is a calming denouement (you almost literally unmask this costumed cretin like in Scooby-Doo). A lot of Dark Souls comes across as a wonderfully mean joke, but the tricks and traps and ghoulishness of the Catacombs have a cackling energy that feels especially right for the season.

Coffin Room, Ico (Voyager)

At the beginning of the game, for reasons beyond our understanding, a young horned kid named Ico is sentenced to die and trapped inside a coffin, in a poorly lit room, filled from wall to wall and floor to ceiling with the same coffins, most likely occupied by other cursed children just like him. Yet in a turn of destiny, he is set free from his imprisonment and swiftly leaves that dark room. Soon after Ico finds Yorda, another forsaken child and the Queen regent’s daughter, trapped in a rusted birdcage, so he frees her and starts their search to find a way out of the mournful Castle in the mist.

However, after exploring the labyrinthine building, developing a close relationship with Yorda, and dodging ghostly shadow figures set to return the princess to her mother, Ico finds himself once again in the coffin room. But now, he’s surrounded by a large group of shadowy enemies, which he defeats effortlessly… “Effortlessly?” Ico thinks as he realizes that they weren’t attacking him, and even some of them tried to flee… were those the spirits of the other children trapped on those Coffins? Is he the real monster of the castle? Roaming around after kidnaping the princess, pushing her to open the seals to get back to a world that wanted him dead?

…There is no time to think about that. He must keep going to save Yorda from the clutches of her dark mother, no matter what.

Ravenholm, Half-Life 2 (KawlunDram)

“Follow me, brother. And tread lightly. For this is hallowed ground.”

While not itself a cemetery, the chapter “We Don’t Go To Ravenholm” in Valve Software’s Half-Life 2 does end with the player shooting through one. The gruesome remnants of the town of Ravenholm is the standout level of Half-Life 2; it’s easy to see why. Behind the scenes, it may have been the chapter of the game that was in development the longest. Starting originally as a short detour through a quarry town, it slowly evolved into a dark and dim descent into madness. You’re only told two things about the two before you end up there. First, the Combine repeatedly struck the town with mortar shells filled with headcrabs. Second, “We don’t go to Ravenholm.” Once there, you’re greeted by a ton of zombies and one very prepared priest: Father Grigori. Grigori spends the chapter hollering words of encouragement, and he even tosses you a very hefty shotgun to use against the undead foes. The Father has also set up elaborate traps for the zombified foes, from spinning blades to levers that drop entire cars on the undead. At the end, you finally end up at a graveyard where you make your (literally) explosive escape. Ravenholm was so captivating to players that Arkane Studio (Dishonored, Prey (2017)) was tasked to work on a Half-Life spin-off titled “Return to Ravenholm.” It’d allow players to once again meet Father Grigori but alas, the game was cancelled fairly late into development and sent into an early grave.

Monster Bash’s nameless graveyard (Cart Boy)

As I’ve mentioned, the very first video game I consciously remember playing was Apogee’s 1993 episodic “classic” Monster Bash. Its premise is simple; the villainous Count Chuck has been kidnapping unsuspecting kids’ pets, including the one belonging to local hero Johnny Dash. Armed with his slingshot, the boy descends to the Under World, seeking to free the hapless hounds and cats. And his first destination upon arriving is a cemetery, one rife with Halloween bauble. There are tombstones, spears stained with blood, signs politely asking visitors not to feed the zombies, and even candy, among other things. Johnny’s enemies suit the atmosphere perfectly; he encounters floating skulls that cackle upon breaking, zombies, and dismembered hands in the first stage, while later environments introduce witches, golems, and other grotesqueries. Now, I admittedly haven’t played Monster Bash since its release (nor do I intend to), but this is my favorite gaming graveyard regardless. Through its resting place for the deceased, my love for this medium (not to mention fascination with zombies and ghouls) was born.

Well, those were some of our favorites. But what about you all? Why don’t you mention some of your favorites, or examples from some of the series we neglected to include, in the comments.