The house was perched on a grassy hill overlooking the nearby lake. It was an old farmhouse with a tower protruding from the center. There were slight gusts of wind that lifted some of the roof panels, making them flap up and down.
The front porch was held up by rotten cedar posts, and one of the window shutters was hanging by what seemed to be a single nail. I walked up the creaking steps careful not to step on a questionable floorboard when I was faced with a tall, narrow door with a lead-light panel.