Small towns have an abundance of material to offer. Every crumbling building can be more than thirty different story starters all on their own. The sister who can be seen crawling on the floor at night with a twisted neck ever since she was killed by her brother when he pushed her over the stair railing on the top floor. Or the mother who died on the floor giving birth and still haunts the halls in search of her baby girl. And maybe that little girl was so distraught she grew into a classier Joanne Dennehy. The possibilities are endless.