Grave of the man allegedly responsible for a series of infamous murders in Boston in the 1960s.

For 20 years, this whale skeleton has been slowly dripping oil on the floor of the museum where it hangs.

This roadside attraction attracts kids with dinosaurs before blindsiding them with geology.

The site of the first "historically true" UFO encounter in the U.S.

This is the house that spite built.

Home to the Titanic Historical Society's collection.

Painstakingly built dioramas sit unnoticed in a Boston office building.

The self-proclaimed world's smallest museum, located next to a Massachusetts sandwich chain.

Statue in Salem of the woman who starred as the witch Samantha in the sitcom "Bewitched."

A spooky and decrepit mental health facility is slowly being replaced with newer digs.

This evocatively named natural crevasse was created by a torrent of water that smashed right through a granite deposit.

Mrs. Mallard and her brood are a beloved fixture in Boston Public Garden.

Ice cream stand, snack bar, and time capsule of milk conveyance.

Locals purchased this abandoned quarry in order to make sure it continues to be overgrown.

On top of Gibbet Hill lie the ruins of a lavish turn-of-the-century estate that never quite came to be.

The bears may be gone, but their old cages can still be found.

Inspiring Herman Melville and Henry David Thoreau, Mount Greylock in western Massachusetts is the highest point in the state at 3,491 feet above sea level.

This tiny, painted door at the base of a tree stump has been a fixture of the Harvard University campus for decades.

This miniature feudal castle was built on a whim to honor a US Navy pioneer.

Eclectic collections, artwork, and some feline friends fill the writer's former home.

This small section of the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery is rotten with famous authors' graves.

Experience the hysteria of a 17th century witch hunt through goofy reenactments and wax dummies that should probably be burned at the stake.

The site of one of the strangest disasters in history—a wave of deadly molasses traveling at 35 mph.

The thousands of shades on display — some toxic, others impossibly rare — are a library of more than just color.