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The echoes of the industrial revolution are all around as you wander the corridors amongst the heavy machinery of the satanic mills of Armley.
The sound of tiny feet running in between the looms and the feeling of being watched is prevalent in all the levels of this dark foreboding building. The former cottage of the mill manager still rings with the day-to-day buzz, doors are said to slam by unseen hands and the seats in the cinema area have been said to drop as if a patron is getting ready for the next screening.