When I first stepped into the door of the Oldest House, the low-frequency buzzing in my ear made me step lightly involuntarily. The headquarters of the Federal Control Agency seems to have its own breathing, the walls are whispering, and the lights are humming ancient ballads. The unknown sound from every corner makes this supernatural world real and sensible.
I remember that when I was looking for the information of the Black Stone Laboratory in the archive area, I suddenly heard the clicking sound of the typewriter in the distance. I followed the sound, but found that in the empty office, the old-fashioned typewriter was typing automatically, and the disappearing words appeared on the page. What’s more strange is that when I approached, the typing sound suddenly stopped and turned into the rustling sound of radio FM. A distant radio station was playing jazz in the 1950s. The sense of misalignment of this sound instantly gave me goosebumps.
The most memorable thing is the encounter with the “refrigerator monster”. Before I saw the body, I heard its sound first — like a mixture of ice cracking, metal twisting and baby crying. As the distance gets closer, the sound gradually separates into multiple levels: the low-frequency vibration makes the handle numb, the high-frequency hissing stings the eardrums, and there is also a vague human voice in the middle. When I finally opened the refrigerator door, what I saw was not a physical monster, but a constantly changing sound wave. It turns out that the monster itself is composed of sound.
As I went deeper into the Oldest House, I began to predict the danger through the sound. If an area suddenly quiets down, it often means that an abnormal phenomenon is about to occur; the sound of glass breaking in the distance suggests the appearance of dimensional cracks; and the high-frequency sound similar to tinnitus is a sign of the beginning of mental pollution. Once in the maintenance channel, I successfully avoided the “sticky man” who was materializing with my keen sense of sound changes.
The use of recording materials in the game is wonderful. Those tapes scattered everywhere not only promote the plot, but also create atmosphere through the sound itself. There is an audio tape recording the process of the researcher going crazy, and strange harmony gradually appears in the background; in another monitoring recording, the sticky sound of a certain entity seeping out of the wall can be clearly heard. What makes me most creepy is that after listening to a tape, the environmental sound effect in the game has changed permanently — from then on, when passing through a specific area, I can always hear whispers.
After a few months of customs clearance, I will still remember the experience of the Oldest House under the trigger of some specific sound. The sound of the wind in the subway tunnel, the electrostatic noise of the old TV, and even the buzzing of the air conditioner will make me subconsciously find out if there are any dimensional cracks. This is the magic of the sound design of _Control —_ it makes supernatural phenomena deeply imprinted in the player’s memory through sound.
If you also want to experience this strange atmosphere immersed in the bone marrow, _Control_ will give you the most unique auditory horror experience. Here, sound is not only the background, but also the story itself, the monster itself, and the beating heart of this supernatural world.
