‘Twas a dark and stormy night....
(Quite literally)
Yet, those who were vulenerable to merely the lithe veil of wind, were the ones who stayed safest.
Breaking through clouds with a song of daring solitude, was a sheet of dark rain. Each droplet pelting their feathers like a splash of blood on a fox’s muzzle as he devours his well earned prey. But it wasn’t a fox to tear out the hush before the rain. It was creature of some other sort. One that took advantage of the darkness, from the sea falling above. Steps it took went unnoticed, yet it’s heart beat synched with the ones it would soon end. Harder and faster did it’s breaths become. Harder and faster did the storm rage. Harder and faster did the water churn above and below. It was l soon that sound would stir with it, and the fear would be as apparent as the lightening scarring the gauzy black sky.
Soon, the world of ocean-dark and wire-hard-white, was met with a sudden, vast, and burning sensation of heart-cold colors.
Pale-warms mixed with Firm-Colds. Ruddy, Sharp, and Sad.
But despite the colors that mixed and taunted, it remained true one thing:
They will stay in the walls of which they took shelter to that night. And it is there they will remain until the world can offer them their wish. A longing for peace, quiet, and tranquility once more. If it happens that one exposes these resting souls to what they once knew, by disturbing their silent shelter, blood and anguish will find them like the ocean-dark storm.
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(This is a Ghost Story, not a Sad One. In real life, there was no blood or anything, it was a bunch of missing chickens)
This is the “Story of the haunted coop” which I just made up right now. The haunted coop is exactly what it sounds like. The story tells you what happened to the chickens.... (except 4 which) and the story also tells you what happened to the coop. It hasn’t been touched since. Every last feather, mess, and piece of straw as it was that day. Until they were stolen to, there were even eggs in the nest boxes. Now, the coop sits by the barn completely as it was. The weeds grow up into the run, spiders weave their webs in the corners, and the rain hits the tin roof in the same way it did “that night.”
I wanted to see if it was still usable (nope) so I touched it today. The coop part hasn’t been opened ever since, but the run part is exposed. Ramp and things are falling apart, wood is looking harsh. I just wrote this story, but my nose started bleeding after I messed with the coop locks.... like the curse (It was like 15 minutes later when I came inside but it’s still spooky)
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you gonna come over here and open the coop then? Take home a feather souvenir. Just be careful or you’ll get more than a nose bleed! 
