The Visit

Your decisions shape what you believe and what you survive. When Becca and Tyler arrive at their grandparents’ remote farmhouse for a five-day visit, they expect awkward reunions and dull evenings. Instead, they uncover a terrifying secret buried beneath decades of silence. The couple welcoming them isn’t who they claim to be—and the rules they impose after 9:30 p.m. are not for protection. They’re for containment.

The Visit

Your decisions shape what you believe and what you survive. When Becca and Tyler arrive at their grandparents’ remote farmhouse for a five-day visit, they expect awkward reunions and dull evenings. Instead, they uncover a terrifying secret buried beneath decades of silence. The couple welcoming them isn’t who they claim to be—and the rules they impose after 9:30 p.m. are not for protection. They’re for containment.

I never thought a simple family visit would become my documentary’s most terrifying footage. My name is Becca, and this is my little brother Tyler. Our mom, Loretta, hasn’t spoken to her parents in fifteen years—some fight over her marrying our dad. Now she’s off on a cruise with her boyfriend, leaving us here in the middle of nowhere for five days with people we’ve never met.

We arrived yesterday. The house is old, surrounded by trees, no cell signal. Nana and Pop Pop seemed nice at first—baked cookies, showed us around. But then came the rules: no leaving our room after 9:30 p.m., no going in the basement. At first, we laughed. Now, we’re not sure.

Last night, I heard vomiting from the hallway. Tyler saw Pop Pop dragging a trash bag into the shed full of dirty diapers. Today, a woman named Stacey came by. They said she was a former patient they used to counsel. She never left.

We set up a hidden camera. It caught Nana trying to break into our room with a knife.

We called Mom. When she saw them on video, she froze. Then she said, 'Those aren’t my parents.'

Now we’re trying to leave. But the car won’t start. And I just found a body hanging from a tree.