As a child, we went to the countryside every summer. I remember well the house in which we lived. It consisted of two floors and was already old at that time. All doors creaked, windows were difficult to open, and carpets kept years of dust in them. Relatives were constantly visiting, periodically replacing each other - I can't remember everyone.
The main (and only) entertainment for young people was a club, which held discos and film screenings in the evenings. Adults went outside and spent long hours on benches, chatting with neighbors and lazily watching the sunsets. It was completely incomprehensible to me how they did not get bored in such a monotonous environment.
One day in July I was returning from the club in the company of my brother and sister. We didn't want to go to the house - it was stuffy and cramped. The relatives had a feast and their lively conversations were heard from the street. We decided to spend a clear and quiet evening in the vegetable garden. The sky in the village was significantly different from the city sky - thousands of stars of extraordinary beauty were visible on it. We settled down near grandma's geraniums and looked up.
Suddenly footsteps were heard not far from the house. I knew the gait of each relative well, and these steps were completely unfamiliar to me. Pushing aside my disturbing thoughts, I convinced myself that this was our father. He must have noticed our long absence and got excited. I reported my guesses to my brother and sister, and we moved towards the house.
The path to the house passed by the bathhouse. I went to the bathhouse only once or twice, because I did not like this occupation. When we had already passed this building, a noise was heard from it. Immediately, I note that the steam room was locked and the light was off. My grandfather constantly closed it for reasons I did not understand.
Listening to unfamiliar sounds, we made out the heavy steps. Someone walked along the dressing room, someone big and clumsy. He moved back and forth, creaking doors, rattling iron basins and other bath accessories. The boards sagged under the weight of this creature so that it seemed as if a bear or some other predator unknown to science was operating in the steam room.
I exchanged glances with my brother, and realized that he was scared no less than me. We began a slow retreat back to the vegetable garden. Then it seemed to me that this monster would instantly break the fragile lock and attack us. My brother grabbed the keys from me and went to open the bathhouse. Now this decision seems incredibly stupid to me. But then, in a state of shock, I could not influence what was happening. Then... he opened the bath and the sounds stopped.
After this incident, I avoided the bath. A mysterious, weighty stranger stole several nights of restful sleep from me. None of us could find a rational explanation for what happened. Over time, the memories dulled and we almost forgot about it. I once shared this story with my grandmother. She told us that before she had to deal with such a phenomenon, and that it was all the fault of the bathhouse. Well, if this creature chose our steam room, one thing I can say for sure - it is made wonderfully well.