Onryō Senki only needed a few pixels to be freaky as hell.
I have never seen a game ratchet up the supernatural tension quite as effectively as Onryō Senki, an adventure game from 1988. Not Fatal Frame, not Devotion, not even my first trip to Silent Hill—none of them come close to matching the level of"I'm not scared I just want to sleep with the lights on for a week" horror found here. This is a game content to treat players like prey, something to be patiently stalked while it waits for the perfect time to strike.
Onryō Senki takes the time to establish this baseline level of plausible deniability only so it can masterfully erode it over the following in-game days: An artist suddenly driven to painting disturbing pictures, a series of unnatural murders and mysterious"accidents," a demon in the park that's mildly surprised Kitahara can see it as it dines on dead dog.