As I approached the overgrown, nearly hidden farmhouse, a sense of abandonment hung in the air. The porch led to three open doors, inviting me inside. The kitchen was still stocked, and the living room remained fully furnished, with a TV and media players in place. Downstairs, there were bedrooms and a laundry area. Upstairs, three beds awaited, one with a baby doll, another with a desk. A chilling discovery—a bed stained with blood in a room with bunk beds—left me with a deep sense of dread. What had happened here? The remaining rooms were cluttered with stored items, adding to the mystery. As I left, unanswered questions lingered: where had the family gone, and what had occurred in this eerily preserved home?