Somewhat.
I strongly remember this one moment in combat, I emptied five rounds into a group of enemies, killing all but one as he disappeared. I stayed still, waiting for him to reappear, listening to the ghastly silence that was filled in by the occasional footstep, my heart beating viciously, and a sad tune that hinted at this place once being glorious.
I take one step forward, pause, and listen. I hear the sound of the water rushing outside, but by now that sound is something I'd grown accustom to. What eventually catches my ear is the far-off sound of scurrying. Running towards it like a Madman, I eventually see the fateful bastard that I've been meaning to destroy, and fire the last shot from my revolver at him, striking him in the arm.
By now I am right in front of him, and I quickly drop the firearm that I once favored so dearly and switched to a wrench, and before I knew what had happened, I was struck ferociously in the shoulder by this man's tools himself. Now in my deep and sudden rage, I swung my wrench at his head and landed a brutal blow squarely upon his forehead, knocking off the mask that he had worn for reasons that escaped me.
His face was no longer there, instead replaced with a bloody hint of what was once alive. With a cold and blank expression, I reload the revolver, and wander once more in my aimless tour of Rapture.
But that was just one scary moment, so I'm not exactly sure what to tell you.
