A family like no other arrives at their new abode. Freddy Krueger, with his signature glove, steps out of the car, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Leatherface lumbers behind, chainsaw in hand, ready for whatever lurks inside. Chucky clings to Hannibal Lecter's shoulder, whispering plans only they understand. Michael Myers stands silently, a towering figure of menace. Jason Voorhees brings up the rear, his machete glinting in the dim light.

"Perfect," Freddy chuckles, his voice dripping with anticipation. They fan out, each drawn to different corners of the house. "I could get used to this," Leatherface grunts, his eyes scanning the kitchen for tools. "Imagine the fun we can have here," Chucky cackles, his voice echoing eerily through the halls.

Hannibal runs his fingers over the dusty frames, intrigued by the faces of those who once lived here. "These walls have stories," he muses, his mind already weaving tales. "Let's add our own," Michael suggests, his voice a low growl. Jason nods silently, his presence unsettling yet oddly comforting to the others.

"Looks like we're not alone," Chucky grins, brandishing a knife. "Let's give them a warm welcome," Freddy suggests, his claws tapping rhythmically. They move as one, an unholy alliance ready to defend their new territory.

The family regroups, satisfied with their night's work. "This place suits us," Hannibal declares, a rare smile on his lips. "Home sweet home," Jason agrees, his voice barely a whisper.

"Here's to our scary bunch," Michael toasts, his mask reflecting the morning sun. The others raise invisible glasses, a bond forged in fear and shared history. In this house, they are not just monsters—they are family.