The first thing you hear when starting up DilmekafaThe Silent Hill, Siren and Gravity Rush alum’s first game from Bokeh Game Studios is a chorus of voices rising in discordant harmony. Some of these voices wail in a deep, low pleading tone, while others have a higher tone, wailing silently and unnervingly over their counterparts. The diversity of these voices represents a spectrum of character, a group of people in uneasy communication with each other.

Very soon, the reason for this focus on community will become clear. DilmekafaThe hero of is completely disfigured; He is a disembodied spirit called Hyoki or ‘Night Owl’ who can possess any living creature he encounters. its exact nature horror gameAn initial mystery with subsequent questions about the motivations of the characters who join forces to eliminate an emerging epidemic of paranormal creatures called ‘Slitterheads’. The Nite Owl discovers and possesses these characters as the game’s story progresses, and because they differ from the nameless civilians (and in one case the stray dog) that the spirit can also inhabit, they are called ‘Rarities’.

Night Owl’s items form the basis of Slitterhead’s game design, from exploration to combat. A typical mission that begins after conversation scenes between Night Owl and Rarities characters can see two selectable Rarities (e.g. a bespectacled student or a convenience store worker) heading into the city with Night Owl to find a sharpshooter base. Press a button and the Night Owl floats free from its host, yellow lights hovering over background characters and two companions point to another body ready to inhabit.

You jump between these characters, whoever is fighting comes out. Rarities are more obvious; each is equipped with their own set of skills, strengths, and weaknesses, which are in part given to the civilians who join them in battle. These skills all revolve around managing gauges that reflect their health, ability cooldown, and weapon durability. As Rarities fight hardened blood in a variety of ways (weapons, boxing gloves, claws), combat becomes a balancing act between expending and regaining health by attacking, switching between bodies, and regaining stamina by holding a button to absorb blood spilled into puddles. from taking or giving damage. The game ends when there are no more living bodies left to jump on.

These battles are creatively designed, but they are also largely unsatisfying in practice. Hitting an enemy with a hardened bloody weapon or taking a hit from a monster doesn’t feel like much weight, and the parry system is similarly loose. Fights occasionally sing, with the duo of main characters’ skills and body leaps between nearby civilians working together to require quick-thinking strategies that take advantage of the synergy. But for the most part, combat is an unexciting affair that loses much of its excitement once you’ve met and experienced the full roster of Rarities.

Slitterhead’s exploration scenes are much better. The game’s setting is a city called ‘Kowlong’, a dense network of streets, alleys and rooftops, similar to Kowloon. This place is full of ordinary people going about their lives, shopping at open-air markets, chatting under neon-lit storefronts, smoking on balconies, and sitting and chatting on patio chairs. When the sharp-heads and their particularly phallic ‘children’ emerge from their hiding place within the body of a humble civilian and begin a fight, these everyday scenes transform dramatically, folklore suddenly bursting from the darkness of urban legend into writhing and violent reality.

While body-swapping creates fantastical, low-key visual gags like a middle-aged man in a business suit becoming possessed and gaining the ability to fling himself onto the top of a sign or onto the side of a building like Spider-Man, the premise of Slitterheads is as much about the possession-based design of Night Owl and Rarities. It’s not convincing. Based on the yaoguai of Chinese folk legend, the creatures in the game look like writhing clusters of wormy tentacles that emerge from the necks of their human hosts. There are also more insect varieties, such as mutant praying mantises or humans with giant seahorse-like heads, and each of these is suitably disgusting and sinister, especially as the reason for their presence in Kowlong is revealed throughout the story.

In fact, fighting and learning about sharpheads is a disappointment. Aside from the lackluster combat, Slitterhead’s overall structure is also the biggest crime. Missions that sometimes have to be repeated multiple times due to time-warping plots divide the plot into convenient and prelude sections. Text-based dialogue scenes between missions are delivered through overheard ambient conversations and short cutscenes while fighting or exploring. Although the story begins with plenty of intrigue-driven forward momentum, it quickly dips in and out of coherence as a result of this fragmented structure. Its characters are also visually distinct but too thinly drawn, causing the dramatic twists and turns in the story to fall flat.

This is even more disappointing considering Slitterhead’s excellent sense of style. While characters outside the main cast resemble lumpen mannequins with frozen faces, the Rarities and their primary antagonists are much more striking. It would be a poor-looking game judged solely on fidelity, but the character design and crowded urban setting are colorful and distinctive. There aren’t many varieties of cutter heads, but the ones you come across all look amazing.

Likewise, there are some cutscenes and menu improvements. A character who is extremely skilled in martial arts is introduced with a video showing them destroying a group of enemies; each beat is accompanied by initial beats and drum sounds. As the intensity of the fight increases, the accompanying music occasionally morphs from cymbals and snare drums into a jazz solo-like mayhem. Missions begin with character names and the day’s date leaps across the screen in swirling colours, a TV-style trap that goes further with many missions ending with a sudden freeze frame, a character’s face gets stuck mid-action, colors run out and ‘To Be’ Continues’ boldface is displayed by type. The score, by longtime Silent Hill composer Akira Yamaoka (rejoining series creator Keiichiro Toyama, who helmed Slitterhead), is also consistently inventive. Their music ranges from smooth synths or plaintive guitar melodies to the aforementioned title screen chorus, all creating a unique mood.

While Slitterhead is as versatile as the chorus of voices working together to wail homescreen music, their various parts come together as uneasily as the discordant song they sing. In an age dominated by remakes and sequels, its predecessor’s innovation and sharp sense of style are particularly welcome. It’s unfortunate that the rest of Slitterhead doesn’t live up to those qualities.