It was the dead of winter when me and my friends, Adam Harris, Josh Craig, Ryan Wells, and Cagle decided we would go up to the old Pig Silos located on the top of York Mountain. The Silos have been closed for well over fifty years, but that doesn't mean anything has stopped up there, as we all found out that night...
We parked the car a good ways away, and crept through the night towards the fence we were going to hop over. We climbed the fence and entered the building where they used to slaughter pigs. I don't know why, but the smell of rotted meat was noticeable. We got bored up there because nothing was going on, say for a single knock from inside a cupboard, which I'm saying was most likely a mouse or something.
We headed down to the old chicken houses. And we heard a door slam. We were a little scared, because we thought someone was there, then we saw the double doors, rusted completely hanging on the hinges, one of the doors swung open as we walked close. Suddenly from inside the chicken houses, we heard the soft cry of a chicken... We couldn't explain it, because there hadn't been any chickens in the building for over 50 years. And as we walked away, as if wanting us to leave, the big rusted door slammed shut as we left.
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