The dilapidated bungalow
The dilapidated bungalow had stood on the outskirts of town for as long as anyone could remember. Its weathered walls leaned precariously, as if burdened by the weight of the secrets it held within. Overgrown vines and thorny bushes had claimed the front yard, making the path to the front door almost impassable. Despite its eerie appearance, the bungalow had always been a place that the townsfolk avoided, and it had become the stuff of legends and ghost stories.