This strange story took place in the early 90s of the last century. It so happened that my husband and I had to move from Kazakhstan to a small village on the banks of the Volga. For a reasonable price, we managed to acquire a strong log five-walled in excellent condition. The former owner explained the cost of the house by the fact that no one had lived in the house for a long time. Although it looked like a living space, from which the owner just left for a while.
A couple of weeks after we moved, my husband found a job in the city and went there for a week. We decided that he would come for the weekend. There was no work in the village at that time.
It was scary to spend the night alone in the house. I left one room closed, deciding that a kitchen and a small stove would be enough for me.
The first night I could not sleep for a long time, I dreamed of steps at the windows, the creak of a gate. The next evening, the gate was well screwed to the post with wire so that it would not creak due to the wind.
The cheerful music and human voices woke me up. Some cheerful company was walking along our street with a tape recorder.
To my amazement, I heard them enter my yard, then into the vestibule and noisily tumbled into the front part of the house that I had closed.
From fear, tetanus attacked me. I was very afraid that the night guests would go from room to room, find me and do something bad. This did not happen, they set the table and, judging by the sounds, they were celebrating something all night.
Everything died down at dawn. When, plucking up courage, I left my room, I did not find any traces of a night out. The gate was also tied with wire.
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The next night I could not sleep for a second, but it was quiet.
The night party was repeated two nights later. The same music, outbursts of cheerful laughter, the crash of falling chairs, the clatter and clatter of dishes. And no traces of night revelry in the morning.
Several sleepless nights wore me out. In a rural store, the seller, apparently noticing my unhealthy appearance, asked how my health was.
I told her that I could not sleep peacefully, the noise of night revelers interfered. Only that they came to my house, I did not say. The seller shook her head and advised me to go to the granny who lives on the edge of the village. And she added that it was quiet in their village at night.
I went to granny in the late afternoon. She impressed me as a very sympathetic person. I told her everything as it is.
I thought she wouldn’t believe it. But she just shook her head. Like, this house has long been chosen by evil spirits for their gatherings. Therefore, it has survived perfectly, although no one has lived in it for 50 years. Other houses were taken away for building materials. And thieves are running from this.
She explained that only I hear noisy parties. And the purpose of the evil is to free the house from people.
And I have nowhere to go. My husband and I have no other place to live. And there is no money to buy either.
My grandmother explained to me that there should be an icon in the house. It is necessary with her and with prayer to go around the whole house outside, and then inside.
And hang in the red corner. And she gave me a small icon.
I did everything as she said.
Then my husband came for the weekend, I didn’t grieve him as a story about night guests.
We lived in that house for another year, then we moved to the city. Night parties no longer happened. But sighs, creaks, rustles began every day with the arrival of dusk and continued until dawn. The cats did not take root, the chickens died.
In the end, we still left there. Grandma didn't take the icon back from me. In the new house, the first thing I did was to hang it in the corner of the room.