We pull up to the cabin and immediately I know: this place got bad vibes. The trees are too still. The wind's blowing but the swing on the porch is swinging in the opposite direction. There's a random axe stuck in a tree stump that looks suspiciously clean - as in, recently used clean.

I turn to the group like:

"Y'all see that? You see the axe of doom? That ain't decorative."

They laugh it off. One of them says, "You watch too many movies."

And I'm like, "You don't watch enough if you think this is normal."

We go inside, and the house smells like expired wood and ancient regret. The floor creaks before you step on it. There's a taxidermy deer head on the wall with human eyes. I swear it blinked at me.

Somebody says, "It's got character!"

I say, "It's got a body count."

I sit down for two minutes, and a picture frame falls off the wall by itself. Not a draft. Not a bump. Just gravity-defying ghost activity.

That's when I start Googling bus tickets home, even though I got no signal.