Death That Matters: Part 3 - Death of the Player

This post contains heavy Walking Dead spoilers!  In parts 1 and 2 of this series, I talked about some examples of death in video games that make a lasting impact on the player.  Particularly, deaths which are a result of the player's actions (Part 1), and deaths of friendly characters (Part 2).  In this last post of the series, I'll discuss the death of the player's character, and how it can be more than just a punishment for failing.

Death: not always this cute

The most common - and nearly ubiquitous - form of player character death is that which is used as a game mechanic.  Meaning, it's simply the result of failing the challenge presented to you by the game, whether that's making a long jump, or killing a horde of enemies.  Your punishment for failing is death, and the resulting loss of progress when you have to start back at your last save or checkpoint.  But the kind of death I'm interested in, is that which is written into the story of the game; where there is no starting over and doing it right the next time.

Reminder:  Heavy Walking Dead Spoilers Ahead!

The Walking Dead by Telltale Games is really the game that got me thinking about this stuff.  It has all three types of deaths that matter I've discussed in this series.  It has moments that make you question the morality of taking a life (do I shoot that woman to prevent an even worse death by zombies?); it has moments where the death of a friendly character actually evokes a feeling of loss and helplessness (RIP Carley); and finally, at the end of the game, we have the death of the player's character, Lee.

As a quick bit of context for anyone who may not be familiar with The Walking Dead, you play as Lee, a 30-something guy who, while escaping from zombies,  finds a 9 year old girl named Clementine who is all alone.  Lee takes Clementine under his wing, and by the end of the game pretty much sees Clementine has his own daughter.

Playing as Lee, there were a few things that really resonated with me during his death.  The first was how, at the end, there didn't seem to be any words or enough time to adequately communicate what I wanted to say to Clementine.  You could argue that that's just the limitation of the game's conversation mechanics, but it felt sadly realistic.  If I were actually laying on my death bed, how could I ever say everything I wanted to say to my sons?  Nothing would ever seem like enough.

Another aspect of Lee's death scene that struck me, was how it was so hard for him and Clementine to say goodbye.  With Lee's health deteriorating, I could see this moment coming, but at the same time, like Lee, I kind of denied that it was actually happening.  Lee tries to push through it for Clementine's sake, but he eventually realizes that it's over.  But even after Lee and Clementine accept that Lee is dying, they try to hold onto what few moments they have left for as long as they can.  It's both sweet and heart-breaking.

And finally, the part that probably resonated with me the most, was when Lee actually died, and there was nothing.  As the player, we know that Clementine is deep in a zombie infested area, all by herself.  We want to know if she made it out.  But we can't know.  The developers did give us a quick glimpse at Clementine's fate after the credits, but it presented more questions than it answered.

Now, depending on your religious beliefs, you may not agree with me on this part, but playing this game kind of made me realize that the saddest part about dying is the thought that I'll never know what happens to my wife or kids after I'm gone.  Like Lee did with Clementine, I try to protect my kids, teach them right from wrong, and hopefully prepare them for what's ahead.  And if I imagine being in a situation like Lee and Clementine's, where I'm dying while my kids are still young, it makes me sad to think that I'd never know what happens to them.  Are they safe and healthy?  Does tragedy befall them?  Do they grow up to be kind people?  Do they find love?  Are they happy?  Hopefully, I stick around this world long enough to find out, but the fact that a video game got me thinking about these kinds of things is pretty profound in my opinion.

What I really wanted to convey with this series of posts was that while games are often derided for their violence and death, games are in a unique position to let us safely experience things we can't or wouldn't want to experience in real life.  While I'm sure it pales in comparison to the real thing, through games I've gotten a taste of what it might feel like to encounter death in a number of ways.  Hopefully these virtual experiences make me better able to empathize with other people, or to better cope with death in the real world.  If nothing else, it has made me more conscious of my own mortality, and how I need to cherish what time I have with the people I love.  All from a game about zombies.

Image sources in order (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)