The description was vague, but the region was small. The authorities soon identified a likely location. Two patrol cars and an ambulance followed a narrow dirt trail that wound through the outskirts of the rural community of Ridgeford Vale. The road was flanked by untrimmed grass and rust colored soil. As the sun began to dip, casting stretched shadows over the land, they found the house.
It was hardly a structure. The walls were warped planks. The roof slanted as if one strong wind would collapse it. There was no proper door. The stench emanating from within hit the officers instantly. It was sickly sweet. It spoke of neglect, illness, and time allowed to run unchecked.
Officer Mateo Morales pushed aside the hanging cloth that served as an entrance. The interior was dim, illuminated only by reluctant rays leaking through broken boards. Flies gathered in swarms. The buzzing filled the silence chillingly.