The Decline of Mascot Horror Games and What Comes Next

Eventually, we will see Mascot Horror die off. Well, I called it. Hello, internet. Welcome to Game Theory, the show that's been overthinking mascot horror for the last 12 years. You know, it's funny. This channel was started by applying math and science to retro video games. But as time went on, we began to use our massive brains to break down the stories hidden within haunted animatronics and old abandoned locations from our childhood. So, I always understood when we would get comments saying, "I miss the math and science episodes," or, "I miss the industry discussions," or, "They only talk about indie horror." Now, to be clear, we still do those science episodes. It just

wasn't as much as we used to. And last year, I made a concerted effort to do more than I did in my first year as host. Hence, I created this green screen format. What I wasn't expecting was some of the comments I saw on our last one of these meta videos about the console wars that said, "Where are the law theories? Where's the mascot horror?" just goes to show you can't win them all. But as I read those comments, I did realize they might actually be on to something. I mean, just look here. These are all the videos we covered on this channel in my first year as the host of Game Theory. Now, take a look at year two. Do you see a difference? Obviously, there's shifts in thumbnails and that sort of thing,

but the big one is that there was way less mascot horror, and the ones we did cover were franchises that we've covered before. FNAF, Poppy, Amanda, Welcome Home, Giggle Land. There was basically nothing in the realm of original mascot horror. That feels odd, right? To be clear, I'm specifically talking about mascot horror, not indie horror in general. The stuff with colorful mascots and nostalgic locations. So, I decided to take a look at some of our peers in the space to see if they'd been covering stuff that had just somehow flipped past me. Your DOS, 8bit Ryans, Super Horror Bro, you know, the usual suspects. But even looking at their videos, the same pattern emerged. Outside of established

franchises or fan games, gone were the colorful mascots from nostalgic locations, usually involving dead children or employees. This absolute juggernaut of YouTube indie gaming had almost felt like it disappeared overnight. Now everyone was covering indie horror games that led into the PS1 style of graphics that we talked about last time. So what happened? Where did all the mascot horror go? And is the genre gone for good? Or much like the characters in the games themselves, will it rise again from the dead? Well, loyal theorists, you know by now often to figure out the future, we have to look at the past. I want to pick mascot horror apart from the seams to discover exactly what happened to this once

renowned genre. Let's take a journey down memory lane to look at the origins of the genre through its golden age to figure out what made it popular to begin with, what caused its recent downfall, and if there is any hope left for the genre that continues to haunt my nightmares. When you think of where mascot horror started, you probably think of the obvious answer, FNAF. But actually, that wasn't the beginning of the genre. It may be what we all recognize today. But the fact is, a lot of other franchises have been laying the groundwork for mascot horror decades before FNAF was even a sparkle in Scott Corin's eye. Let me draw your attention to this short story by ETA Hoffman, The Sandman. In

it, a student falls in love with a lielike animatronic woman. At the end of the story, he sees her pulled apart and realizes he's been dating a living doll. What is especially traumatizing for him is seeing her eyes torn from her head, mirroring his childhood bedtime story, The Sandman, where a sleep spirit would pluck the eyes from kids refusing to sleep. Now, obviously, this isn't a mascot horror. It's kind of missing the Crucial Name element, but it is clearly laying the groundwork for creepy stories involving animatronics and unsettling childhood memories. And this was all the way back in 1816. Over the next century,

we saw more stories like this continue to blaze a trail within the horror genre. Like in the 1920s, we got Rossam's Universal Robots. You probably haven't heard about this play unless you're a fan of obscure theater from the early 1900s, but it literally coined the term robots. In it, a factory makes these robot workers out of artificial flesh and blood. But by the end of the show, these workers lead a rebellion and kill every single person in the factory. Sounds familiar, right? In 1962, an episode of the Twilight Zone came out called The Dummy, featuring a ventriloquist doll taking over his performer. In 1988, we got a story about a murderer possessing a toy in Child's Play. And in 1991, we had a creepy clown

scaring kids in it. Chucky and Penny Wise are two of the most recognizable characters in all of horror history, and they're deeply tied to the corruption of childhood nostalgia. But while they've become mascots in their own right, they're not really mascots by definition. It's not until Silent Hill 3 in 2003 where a game features something I would identify as uniquely mascot-based horror. There's an amusement park level featuring a character called Robbie the Rabbit that added an unsettling ambiance to the amusement park level. It's not the main point of the game, but this is where the dominoes really begin to fall. In the 2010s, we get a lot of media attempting to corrupt our childhood favorite.

Creepy pasters were blowing up at this time, and those influences began to seep into the world of video games, too. We got creepy pastas like Lavender Town Syndrome or the release of Sonic.exe, and they showed us that gaming and mascot-based horror was an inevitable part of the cultural zeitgeist. These things eventually culminated in the game that widely is considered the final setup piece for FNAF's rise to power, a video game about one of the creepiest creepy pastas out there, Slender. Slenderman Man was a creepy pasta from 2009, 3 years before the game, so there was already some nostalgia building up from internet users. But he also is a character closely tied to children with

some of the original photos placing him in nostalgic childhood locations like play parks. You combine that with horror game elements like those from Amnesia: The Dark Descent, and suddenly all those things combine to create a phenomenon that took 2012 YouTube by storm. Everything had built up over the centuries to lead to this moment. But much like Penny Wise or Chucky, while Slenderman has become a bit of a mascot for indie horror, he wasn't a mascot himself. But then the game we've all been waiting for came onto the scene and added the final piece to the puzzle. FNAF exploded onto the scene on August 8th, 2014. It had everything we'd expect at this point. It had a very simple gameplay loop. You're a security guard,

and all you do is sit in your security room, check the security cams while closing the doors, and flickering the flashlight here and there. It's honestly a little bit reminiscent of point-and-click games from the '90s. In a world filled of complicated openw world 40-hour long epic games, FNAF was something that you could pick up after a long day of work or school without feeling like you've forgotten the whole plot of the game. It also had a cryptic story told through tiny details that only a small percentage of people would find in any given playthrough. It was full of jump scares. And you remember that Chuck-e-Cheese that you went to as a kid, right? What if those animatronics were the thing trying to kill you? And

it was run by a mad scientist murder robot maker guy that murdered a bunch of children who are now possessing those animatronics. Talk about ruining your childhood. But the final piece that it had above things like Slender was the namesake of this whole thing. The mascots Freddy and the gang were brightly colored so they stood out. They had simple silhouettes so you could easily recognize them. And while they were definitely creepy in that uncanny way that we remember from our childhoods, they weren't inherently scary to look at in the way that horror monsters were before. In a weird way, they were actually kind of cute. Though, all those things combined to make them perfect for platforms like YouTube. The

bright colors and strong silhouettes meant they stood out in thumbnails. The lack of gore meant YouTube wasn't going to flag it. And throw in its custom modes and challenges giving it massive replay value. And that it's pretty darn cheap compared to the insanely priced AAA gaming scene, it feels kind of obvious that audiences and creators alike would fall in love with this thing. creators were making so much FNAF content which essentially became free advertising perpetuating it further. So Scott made a follow-up and another and another with YouTubers continuing to cover the series in between releases which kept the hype cycle going. And then you throw theorizing about the story into the mix and suddenly a

juggernaut was born. Now I will say yes there are a lot of other reasons why FNAF took off including a bunch of business things that most people don't think about. I do have another video planned to focus specifically on that. So, make sure you're subscribed to see when that drops. But for what we're talking about today, I think we covered the important bits. It mastered all the pieces building up to it, and those cute kid-friendly mascots were the cherry on top that led to it being a massive success. Not just as a game either, but as a commercial enterprise. Simple character designs meant merch sales.

Confusing law meant Scott could release books, spin-off games, and movies, and the fans would buy in. Plus, it inspired a whole generation of future developers. Its simple but effective gameplay that could basically run on a potato led to hundreds, if not thousands of fan games. And while some of them were a little rough around the edges, it was clear that fans of the genre wanted more. More twisted nostalgia, more loss of innocence, and more survival horror. FNAF opened up the mascot horror door. Although the term mascot horror wouldn't actually be coined until 4 years later by fellow creator John Wolf, who I know

watches these videos. Hi John. Hope you're enjoying this one. Anyway, at the time it was all just kind of indie horror. But either way, other indie devs took notice and started to take those core elements that FNAF established and innovated upon them, building out the genre with their own unique games. In 2016, we got Hello Neighbors First Alphas, a game designed with a simple gameplay loop where an AI would learn the ways you broke into his house and alter his tactics accordingly. Now, as much as we like to dog on this game for the fact it lent really hard into the law after Game Theory started making videos about it, it did have an intriguing law premise from the very beginning. A creepy neighbor with

something locked in his basement. That's something I'm sure some of us recognize from our childhoods, looking over the fence at the weird neighbor and imagining the worst. But it's intriguing. That same year, we got Tattletail, a game where you walk around your house trying to keep your creepy Furby happy while being hunted by a bigger, creepier Furby. Again, twisting that childhood memory of toys and Christmas, but this time adding in a demonic element rather than possession. In 2017, we got Bendy in the Ink Machine, which spoofed old school 1930s cartoons like Mickey Mouse and Bimbo. You once again find yourself in a nostalgic location filled with demonic symbols, but this time, the employees are the ones who have been turned into

distorted versions of the mascots that are now trying to kill you. And all of these games allowed you to do something crazy in the eyes of FNAF. You could walk, something that even FNAF has now adopted in recent years. Although the style of walking simulator that most modern mascot horrors follow is much more akin to Bendy than the other two. Plus, Bendy also introduced the chapter system. Rather than release multiple full games in a year, they would just release sections of a full game, allowing them to keep up the pace, allowing you to walk through different environments each chapter, and simplifying the story to one cohesive story rather than a bunch of smaller stories that tie together. Later that year, we got Duck Season, a VR mascot

horror experience where the dog character from Duck Hunt was actually a real guy in a costume just trapped inside a video game. In 2018, we got The Dark Deception, where you're trapped in a purgatory-l like hotel maze filled with demonic creatures chasing you down. From the coattales of indie horror games like Dokyoki Literature Club, we got Cooking Companions, which mix the ideas of creepy visual novels with adorable mascots in 2021. And at the same time, we got what is arguably the second biggest mascot horror series behind FNAF, Poppy Playtime. Love it or hate it, this thing made waves, mostly because it figured out all of the tropes that came before it and honed them. It used chase sequences which bounce off

things like Hello Neighbor and The Dark Deception. It's based in a toy factory full of toys that feel reminiscent of the toys that we grew up with and it just keeps going. It has the evil science experiments of FNAF, but rather than dead kids possessing these toys, the kids were turned into toys. And of course, the law was being slowly hinted over the course of several chapters, books, spin-offs, and ARGs to keep up the hype, like with FNAF, Bendy, Hello Neighbor, and many more. 2021 to 2022 was kind of the peak of mascot horror in some senses. After Poppy Playtime, we had games come out of the woodwork like Andy's Apple Farm, Amanda the Adventurer, Choo Charles, and My Friendly Neighborhood.

All games that found unique ways to tell their stories and play on that childhood nostalgia. Sure, they weren't all perfect games, but is any game really perfect? Especially when these games were produced by indie developers who don't have the multi-million dollar backing of AAA studios. The problem was there was now so many different franchises, it was hard to keep innovating, especially when franchises like FNAF, Bendy, and Poppy were still going and releasing new stuff. And to be fair, this is 7 plus years from the inception of Mascot Horror. It's understandable that the market starts to feel a little stagnant and some might even say oversaturated. It's hard to come up with something new when everything has been done before. This is

where you'd kind of expect the genre to die out. You get sale, so people leave. But that was far from the case. People were loving this genre. FNAF was in the process of being made into a real movie, and people were hyped. They couldn't get enough. And for that hubus, we were punished because a new franchise was about to burst onto the scene. And it made quite a splash, but for the wrong reasons. Rather than innovating on the tropes or gameplay, adding new or interesting mechanics, or switching up the story, this game doubled down on those tropes. It was a basic kids location that was even larger and more nonsensical than Poppy. It had missing kids, an evil corporation doing experiments, monsters whose motivations

were ambiguous in the worst way, clunky dialogue, lowquality voice acting, and to top it all off, they took the idea of simple, colorful mascots with identifiable silhouettes, and turned it up to the nth degree to the point they feel lazy and bland rather than intriguing. I'm of course talking about the one, the only Garden of Bamb. They released new chapters even faster than we thought humanly possible, but they did so at clearly the lowest quality possible. That wasn't even the worst part, though. It was pretty bad, don't get me wrong. But the worst part was that you could tell that the game was made not out of passion, but purely out of profit, with a merch page right on the front page of their first

installment, hoping to get a huge amount of revenue just because it's a mascot horror game. And sadly, they were successful. The game got super popular and probably made them a butt ton of money. If NAF was the one opening the door to mascot horror, Bamb Ban opened the freaking floodgates. People, and more often businesses, realized that the game and its story didn't need to be good to be successful. It just needed to tick the boxes. If you had cute mascots, you could sell plushies. If it looked good enough, creators would play it or stream it. And if the story was cryptic enough, theorists would post about it.

Now, I am by no means saying that every mascot horror game after 2023 was a shameless cash grab. We got some absolute bangers like Indigo Park, Don't Frett, Finding Frankie, Shipwreck 64, and many others. But for every good one we got, it felt like we got two lowquality games in return. I think Joyville is a prime example of this. The story is kind of a nothing burger. Everyone called it a Poppy Playtime ripoff from its designs to chase sequences, everything. And when we covered it, I remember seeing comments like, "All mascot horror feels the same. It's all recycled. This isn't interesting anymore. People began to notice the problem. They began questioning if these games were really good or just made to sell plushies.

Fatigue was setting in with the core audience, which led to less grace being given to new games. Sometimes they didn't even want to try a new game out of the fear that the same thing would happen. We saw views across the platform go down on these types of videos as fans became hypervigilant with their criticisms whenever something new hit the YouTube scene. This hyper vigilance even applies to established franchises that fans already love. This was a mess. It was such a problem that calling a game mascot horror has become a bit of an insult to the game's quality. And people that are making games in this genre are trying desperately to stand out and not be called that. despite

their games very clearly fitting into the original mascot horror genre. This is when you can start to see the decline in the numbers of mascot horror games. If everything released is lowquality and uninspired, nobody's going to want to invest their time into it. That's not going to bring in any new fans and that throws a wrench into the whole cycle. As audiences become less interested in the slop that is being released, they stop watching videos about them. And so any creator wanting to keep the lights on had to find other things to post about. And with less people posting, these people and companies looking to make a quick buck moved on. They drained the mascot horror well dry and it was time

to find the next fad genre like friend slop, which I also love, by the way. It just has unfortunately garnered a rather derogatory name, but I also can't really call it anything else. So, friend slop it is. So, we've looked at the rise and the fall of the mascot horror genre. From its origins to the height of its power to the oversaturation and exploitation leading to audiences burning out. But at the beginning, I promised you a glimpse into the future. So, based on what we've seen, what comes next? Well, I got to say on that front, the future, I think, is looking pretty bright. While there aren't a bunch of mascot horror games to play or talk about right this minute, I know there are a bunch of great games on

the horizon. And do you know who is going to be leading the charge on this? Creators. Creators who saw the rise and fall of mascot horror. The ones who became full-time content creators because of these games. They remember the passion, the innovation that got them excited for these kinds of games all those years ago. And I'm not just saying that to try and big up my colleagues. We're already seeing this change in the film industry. YouTubers coming in and making waves that totally upend the traditional Hollywood model. Creators like Markiplier with Iron L Pixels with the back rooms. Chris Stuckman with Shelby Oaks. And we're already seeing creators actually do it with Mascot Horror as well. I mentioned

earlier, but a couple of years ago, we got Chapter 1 of Indigo Park, which was made by creator Unique Geese. That same year, we got a demo for Don't Fret, a game made by Rocket Music. Last year, I played a demo for Terrible Lizards at PAX West thanks to the creators JT Music. These are all fantastic returns to form for the genre. They weren't just another reskinned FNAF or Poppy. They had unique mechanics and stories that felt truly innovative. But we haven't seen any real follow-ups since then. How can they be the saviors of the genre if they've not been heard from in a year or two, especially when they've only been demos? Simple. Because there's a reason they're taking their time. And that

reason is why audiences will be willing to put up with the wait. They're taking their time to focus on quality, not quantity. Passion, not profit. innovation, not I can't come up with a negative I. This was the reason the genre began to collapse. And so these guys are counteracting the stigma and frustrations with the genre by taking the time to make a truly new and highquality product that audiences will love. And to be clear, I'm not saying only creators are capable of this. I've been in talks with a number of indie devs who are working on their own games that based on what I've seen also fit into this new era of mascot horror. It's not about creators, it's about quality.

It just so happens there's an interesting trend right now of creators deciding to pull a Thanos and do it themselves. There's actually one other creator that is a good friend of the channel that's working on a new game that I think will be a very exciting experience, but I'll let you theorize in the comments who you think that is. But going forward, I think that this genre will begin to rise like a phoenix. The genre isn't dying, it's being reborn. The quality of the games will improve and we'll have to deal with less bands making it to the top of the Steam charts. Although most of these games are coming out sometime this year, so I guess we won't have long to wait to see if I'm right. Which means in the

meantime, all of this is just a theory. A game theory. Thanks for watching. World premiere on Game Theory. Over the last year or so, I've been noticing an evolution happening within the indie horror