I'm not entirely sure why this one is so unsettling. This game is little more than a dark, empty house. Your zone of vision is very limited, and everything else is shrouded in darkness. The first time through, room by unlocking room, you retrieve cassette tapes and play them. They tell you an extended metaphor between the house and the body. My heart skipped a few beats here and there. Then there's the next play, and it's like the game is a tape that's being worn out. Things change. Another play, things are wrong. They're not where they should be. The tapes go in and out of being understandable. The house changes around you. Kitty Horrorshow does a spectacular job of exploiting expectations in this game: expectations about where things are and should be in a home, expectations about how horror games play and progress.