There is something that happens in the body before the mind catches up. A low string sustains past comfort. A piano key settles a half-step below where it belongs. The room hasn't changed, but the air has. That is the particular gift of horror music: it creates dread out of nothing visible, conjuring threat from silence and dissonance before a single frame or image confirms what you already feel.

In film, music has long served as the nervous system of fear. Games push this further. There is no cut to safety. The ambient dread in a game score must live in the background of every decision, every footstep, every moment the player pauses too long in a corridor.

The music is the warning. The music is the thing in the room.