In the dim, rain-soaked neon glow of a lonely kiosk, Kiosk attempts a delicate balancing act between the mundanity of fast-food service and the creeping dread of psychological horror – and, on the PlayStation 5 version published by Feardemic and developed by Vivi, that tension carries through more often than not. From the moment you step behind the counter, the game’s simple everyday routine begins to twist, and what should be comforting repetition becomes subtly unsettling.
The premise is clever in its contrast: you’re a late-night kiosk worker – chopping veggies, grilling sausages, pouring drinks or coffee, fulfilling mundane orders – yet this everyday simulation is haunted by a mystery: your predecessor vanished under unclear circumstances. As customers come and go, providing clues or unnerving stories, the game builds its sense of unease. This foundation of normality slowly warps, and that slow burn of tension, rather than a barrage of constant scares, becomes the game’s greatest strength.
Gameplay leans into its cooking-sim roots: slicing ingredients, frying meat, filling orders – mechanics are intentionally simple and forgiving, which allows the player to focus on the growing unease and ambient dread instead of fiddly micromanagement. Still – that simplicity works: there’s a certain charm and even dark humour in the kitchen’s wonky physics: items flopping across the counter, sausages bouncing unpredictably, a burger landing where you didn’t expect. That chaotic kitchen energy becomes almost comedic – yet in Kiosk, humor and horror blend in a strangely satisfying way.
On the sensory front, Kiosk doesn’t rely on high-fidelity visuals or glamour; instead, its lo-fi, retro-tinged aesthetic matches the tone perfectly. The pixelated textures, the soft glow of the kiosk lights against heavy rain outside, the muted palette and simple geometry – all contribute to a mood of quiet isolation. When paired with subtle audio design – the hiss of the fryer, the drip of rain, distant ambient noise or faint whispers – the result is an atmosphere that quietly creeps under your skin. The horror here doesn’t hit you with loud stingers; it insinuates itself through ambience and pacing.
That said, the game isn’t without flaws. The reliance on relatively simple cooking mechanics means the loop can grow repetitive over time, especially if you linger in Endless or Relax modes. Some of the charm of chaotic physics turns sour when objects clip awkwardly or fall out of reach, interrupting the flow. And while the horror slowly emerges, players expecting constant terror or a deeply intricate mystery might feel that the narrative never quite reaches full depth: interactions remain limited, and the internal logic of some events or character behaviours can feel sketchy, which slightly undercuts the immersion.
With the release on PS5, the game benefits from being playable on console – and at its modest price point, the experience feels like a solid value. For someone looking for an indie horror experience that’s short, moody, and more about creeping dread than jump-scare overload or polished AAA production, Kiosk delivers. But those hoping for deep narrative complexity or long-term replay might find the simplicity limiting.
In the end, Kiosk is something of a niche gem: a weird hybrid of cooking sim and horror that doesn’t fully commit to either – but when it hits the right note, the result is a memorable, unsettling ride through rain, grease, and whispered secrets. For players open to subtle horror, off-beat ambience, and off-kilter kitchen chaos, it’s absolutely worth the shift. For those expecting sweeping horror or deep, branching mysteries, it’s best approached with modest expectations. Overall, Kiosk may not be a masterpiece – but it’s a haunting curiosity that lingers, long after you close the kiosk shutter for the night.
Score: 7.0/10

