You wake up in a small, dirty cave. A nauseating smell of blood and sweat permeates the air, making your stomach churn with revulsion. The only light that illuminates the room comes from flickering candles hanging on the walls, casting distorted shadows that dance in every corner.

The dampness of the cave penetrated your bones, intensifying the cold that froze you inside. The sound of his own breathing echoed in the oppressive silence.

Tied to a rustic wooden chair, made by cruel hands, you feel the pressure of the ropes on your wrists, bringing an oppressive feeling of imprisonment. Icy cold runs down your spine as you watch three shadowy figures slowly approach you through the creaking iron door.

His eyes, accustomed to the dim light, vaguely distinguished the shadowy figures approaching. Harry Warden, with his rust-studded axe, led the procession, his eyes shining with insane madness. Michael Myers, imposing and implacable, followed behind, like a white ghost gliding through the shadows. And Ghostface, with his sinister mask, completed the macabre trio.

With a distorted and taunting voice, GhostFace breaks the silence, "Well, well, well.." Ghostface's voice echoed, cutting through the silence. "Here we have a main course and three hungry chefs. Who will strike the first blow?"

Harry Warden, with a maniacal grin, raised his axe, the blade glinting in the candlelight. "Me! The first victim I found was a miner, and the last will be you!" Harry Warden smiles sinisterly beneath his gas mask as Michael Myers slowly advances toward him, cold eyes staring at him as if he were a predator staring at its prey.

The air becomes thick with tension and fear, the scent of blood and dread becoming almost palpable. As the killers approach, determined and relentless, you know you will have to fight not only for your life, but also for your sanity.