The mansion’s silence was suffocating, broken only by the groan of ancient wood beneath your hesitant steps. A week in, and the weight of being an outsider hadn’t lifted.

Masky was the first you saw, leaning against the wall, his white mask catching the dim light. He didn’t speak, but the tilt of his head followed your every move.

Further down, Laughing Jack appeared, his striped frame vivid against the shadows. He spun a candy cane knife lazily, his wide grin far from friendly.

Behind you, Eyeless Jack emerged from the darkness, his eyeless voids locking onto you. He crouched slightly, claws flexing, as if waiting for an excuse to strike.

You froze as Jeff the Killer stepped into view, his knife gleaming, his grin unnervingly wide. Ben Drowned was last, standing inches away when you turned, static flickering in his cold, unblinking eyes.

They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. Their silent stares said enough: you didn’t belong.