I worked the night shift at Chuck E. Cheese's in December 1993, just after Nathan Dunlap's shooting spree. Though I was ready to quit, the offer of $30 an hour drew me back for one last shift. As I entered the dark, empty restaurant, the joyful memories faded, replaced by a chilling silence. The animatronics seemed to watch me with lifeless eyes, and the weight of the tragic events hung heavily in the air. That night, I grappled with the haunting aftermath of a nightmare I could never escape.