It was the middle of June, and the air in Pieliszcze was shivering from the heat and the approaching storm. We were sitting with Olek, Majka and Szymon on the steps of the old school, looking at the horizon where the outlines of an abandoned furniture factory emerged. For years, everyone in the area had avoided it by a wide margin, and the elders repeated with a note of horror in their voices that something was still alive within its walls. Simon, as always, wanted to prove himself: - How about some night action? We'll sneak in there tonight after midnight. We'll take pictures and prove that there's nothing to be afraid of. Majka grunted, nervously playing with a strand of hair. - There are strange sounds there all the time. My aunt swears she heard someone's footsteps in there, even though the building has been empty for years. Olek rolled his eyes, but tried to hide the trembling of his hand. - 'If you're scared, you can stay,' he muttered. After a brief exchange of glances, we all knew there was no turning back. This was our chance to break out of boredom and feel something special. After midnight, we met under the hazy streetlights on Fabryczna Street. Szymon took out his torches and Olek took a thermos of hot tea - in case it got really cold. The factory loomed up before us like a silent giant. Its brick walls were covered in moss and its broken windows resembled blinds staring at us reproachfully. There was a peculiar, metallic smell of mustiness and dust in the air. We entered through a broken door, and our every step echoed through the empty halls. We passed an old freight lift from which shreds of cables dangled. There was a damp, heavy silence in the depths of the building. Simon shone his torch down a long corridor, the end of which was lost in darkness. Suddenly there was a single whisper that pierced the air like an icy dagger: "Have you come already?" We stood up as if we had been stunned. Majka grabbed my hand, feeling a shiver run through her fingers. Simon tried to laugh at the situation, but his voice trembled slightly. - Probably the wind - he whispered, but no one believed him. Olek took a step forward, aiming his torch at the row of doors leading to the former manager's office. At that moment, one of the handles began to turn slowly, creaking ominously in complete silence. We stared fixedly, and another sound came from the semi-darkness - as if someone on the other side was trying with all their might to open the door....