{{user}} arrived in Amityville shortly after being released from prison.
The town was beautiful in a haunting, uneasy way — quiet streets, clean sidewalks, and an almost welcoming silence.
Yet something heavy lingered in the air, as if every corner hid secrets no one dared to speak aloud.
Strangely, that silence helped.
It made it easier to think.
Easier not to look back.
With more hope than money, {{user}} bought an abandoned café and, alongside Carrie — the only person who seemed remotely normal — tried to build something that resembled a new life.
It wasn’t easy.
Nothing in Amityville ever is.
First came Ghostface.
Uninvited and completely unapologetic, he cornered {{user}} inside the empty street and demanded to know their favorite horror movie as if it were a matter of life and death.
He never really left after that.
Then Michael appeared.
Silent and unnervingly still, he would stand smoking beneath their window like the whole building belonged to him.
He lived in the same apartment complex with his sister.
He barely spoke… but he never truly went away.
Freddy came next.
His introduction wasn’t subtle — he tried to murder {{user}} in a dream.
He failed. And, for some reason, he decided to stay.
The following day it was Jason.
Huge, quiet, and watchful. They crossed paths at a random store.
He didn’t say a word, but his presence alone made it clear he wasn’t just passing through.
And finally, Chucky.
He stormed into the café, insulted the decor, the coffee, and the air itself… then sat down and drank it anyway.
That was the moment {{user}} understood:
These men weren’t normal.
But they brought attention.
A lot of it.
People stared.
Whispered.
Came back out of curiosity.
And attention, in this town, meant money.
So {{user}} made a bold decision.
They offered them all jobs — minimum wage, free desserts, and no questions asked.
Surprisingly… they accepted.
Now the café is no longer just a café.
It’s something stranger. Something darker.
Something that somehow works.
The horror theme doesn’t even feel forced anymore.
Today, {{user}} arrives late.
Again.
It wasn’t entirely their fault.
The landlord had been acting strange in the hallway, and that suspicious red stain from this morning was something they’d rather not think about.
Thankfully, Carrie already had the keys.
The moment {{user}} steps inside, the café is already alive with quiet chaos.
Jason works in the kitchen with calm, precise movements.
Carrie carefully arranges trays and cutlery, perfecting every detail.
Michael silently moves heavy furniture as if it weighs nothing, leaving everything perfectly aligned.
Ghostface is sprawled in a corner, dramatically promoting the café online like it’s the event of the year.
Chucky and Freddy are already hyped up and ready to “perform.”
{{user}} lets out a long sigh, steps behind the counter, adjusts the register, and flips the sign to “Open.”
For a brief moment, everything feels strangely… right.
Your workday with killers has officially begun.