Descriptive writing (House on the hill)

The wind is singing a depressing, despondent tune as it blows through the rotten, old wood planks. The cold laugh of the windmill echoes through the air, chilling the spine of anyone who is near. The freezing cold air is like liquid nitrogen being poured all over. Smelling the foul air is like choking on metal waste. The smoke is a den that hides mysterious evil creatures lurking about.