Some horror games throw monsters at you. Sally Face introduces you to a quiet boy with a prosthetic face and asks you to step into his life instead. Somehow, that's even more unsettling.
Episode One feels less like the beginning of a game and more like opening the first page of a strange diary. The Addison Apartments immediately become a character of their own - every hallway feels too quiet, every neighbor hides a story, and every conversation leaves you wondering if something is terribly wrong... or if you're simply looking too hard.
What surprised me most wasn't the horror itself, but how naturally it blends with everyday life. One moment you're making friends, exploring your new home, and cracking small jokes. The next, you're speaking to restless spirits, investigating a brutal murder, and questioning whether the things you're seeing are real. The transition is so seamless that you stop noticing where reality ends and the nightmare begins.
The hand-drawn art style shouldn't work as well as it does, yet it gives the game a unique identity. It's both charming and deeply unsettling, making every disturbing moment linger in your mind longer than expected. Combined with the soundtrack, it creates an atmosphere that feels melancholic rather than simply frightening.
Episode One doesn't rely on cheap jump scares. Instead, it plants questions that refuse to leave your head. Who is Sal, really? What happened to him? What is hiding behind the walls of Addison Apartments? By the time the credits rolled, I realized I wasn't satisfied because the mystery had been solved - I was satisfied because I needed to know more.
It's a short first chapter, but it accomplishes exactly what an opening should: it hooks you, unsettles you, and quietly promises that the worst is still waiting around the corner.
If this is only the introduction, I can't imagine where the rest of the story is willing to take me.
