Several years ago, in one of hunting grounds Perm region, I heard an unusual story. About a strange mushroom picker. Impressed by what he heard, he even wrote a short poem “The Lost Mushroom Picker” on this occasion. Comic. Slightly changing the essence of the story. I did not believe then in its veracity. How many people come up with...

Although the hunter, who told about the strange incident, did not look like a humorist at all. In all seriousness, he said that for the second year in the local forests, mushroom pickers and hunters meet a very strange character.

Back in school, the boys and I noticed a strange trend - each of us had a particularly unlucky body part. Which got more than the rest of the organs and limbs. For someone it turned out to be a hand, for someone it was a leg, for someone it was a bad head. And someone was unlucky in general on the right or, conversely, on the left side of the body. Like me, for example.
Over the years, for the majority, the situation probably levels off, and the “bumps” begin to pour evenly over the entire body. And the number of injuries with age and the advent of the mind noticeably decreases. But not everyone, unfortunately...

Now, when you hear from someone that he is fond of photography, by God it becomes ridiculous. With development digital technologies photography, as a hobby, can rightfully be called a three-year-old child who has learned to poke a finger at a smartphone.

I got into photography in the late seventies. It was good to have someone to learn from. Yes, and the theoretical base in the form of special literature was present (now many books of those times have become a second-hand rarity).

I heard this story from my good friend. Contrary to the prevailing opinion about former convicts, after serving his term he remained a normal person and returned to ordinary civilian life.

A scene from the film Buried Alive.

They live happily ever after after the wedding only in fairy tales, but in real life one cannot do without problems and quarrels, but not all of them end as badly as those of an Eastern European couple who lived in the UK. Marcin Kasprzak, 25, after several years life together with Michelina, Lewandowski became so disappointed in his choice that he began to think about killing his wife. The man was not embarrassed by the presence of a common three-year-old child - one evening he stunned his wife with a stun gun, tied her hands and feet, loaded her into a large cardboard box and buried her alive, sprinkled with earth, branches and fallen leaves. The woman who came to herself in complete darkness was horrified, but the desire to reunite with the child brought her to her senses - wedding ring she broke the bonds, broke through the cardboard and made her way to the surface.

Bad apartment

Shot from the film "Refrigerator"

Jeffrey Dahmer is one of the most famous serial killers in American history, in thirteen years he managed to kill and dismember 17 young victims. Dahmer's quiet apartment in Milwaukee turned into a real theater of horror - the villain deceived the unfortunate people there, killed them, and then used the corpses for his crazy experiments. The nightmare was stopped by 32-year-old Tracey Edwards, whom Dahmer invited to his place to watch the movie "The Exorcist 3" together. As you watch, the mood of the maniac changed to aggressive - Dahmer ordered Edwards to lie down, threatening with a huge knife to cut out his heart. Fortunately, the victim managed to take advantage of the killer's momentary confusion, hit him and run out into the street, where a patrol car immediately responded to the complaint. Police found four human heads in the psychopath's refrigerator.

Railroad Killer

Shot from the movie "Midnight Express"

Holly Dunn was the only survivor of the fifteen victims of the attack by the so-called "Railway Killer", a maniac operating in the vicinity railway connecting Mexico and the southern United States. The girl, along with her boyfriend, was stopped late in the evening by an inconspicuous passer-by who pretended to be a beggar. Instead of asking for money, Angel Maturino Resendez threatened the couple with an ice pick and drove them into a roadside ditch. Far from prying eyes Serial killer beat the young man to death with a stone, and Holly raped and hit the neck with an ice pick. Believing that the girl was dead, Resendez left the crime scene, and Dunn, recovering and overcoming the pain, managed to crawl to the nearest house and call for help. The girl, despite severe eye injuries and a broken jaw, was able to be saved, but the killer was caught only many years later and a dozen more corpses.

deadly companion

Shot from the film "Companion Traveler"

British tourists Joan Lees and Peter Falconio wanted to see the Australian outback, but they hardly expected to get to know her mores from this side - meeting with local resident named Bradley John Murdoch was fatal for the couple. At night, the tourists' car was overtaken by a fellow traveler who informed them that their exhaust pipe was damaged and sparking. Falconio stopped by the side of the road and went to assess the damage when Murdoch approached young man and shot him point-blank. Fox, on the other hand, was supposed to be the killer's sexual prize - the Australian tied her hands and stunned her with a blow to the head. The girl, however, managed to take advantage of a few seconds, while Murdoch was distracted by the body of her companion, and roll back into the bushes, where darkness hid her. Five hours later, Joan went out to a passing car and told about the killer - Murdoch was caught, but Peter's body was never found.

carnivorous bacteria

Shot from the film "Infection"

The reckless Aimee Copeland has not been used to giving in to challenges since school and could do a lot of things “weakly”. Alas, this courage, bordering on insanity, cost her health - on vacation in Georgia, Amy plunged into a swampy pond, where she caught a rare, but rather terrible infection. The girl's open wounds were contaminated with bacteria that cause necrotizing fasciitis, a disease that affects the skin and subcutaneous tissue. The decisive actions of the doctors saved Copeland's life, but the girl was left without arms and legs. The amputated limbs were replaced with prosthetics and bionic arms, so now Aimee is not only a frightening example of recklessness, but also a model of optimism and conservation. positive attitude to life.

Bunker

Frame from the movie "Martyrs"

All children know the rule “Never talk to strangers”, but sometimes the villains turn out to be too insidious - the 14-year-old Elizabeth Shoaf was stopped by the criminal on the way home from school and, posing as a police officer, “arrested” the girl. An unemployed kidnapper named Vinson Fillow took Elizabeth to his farm, where he locked him in underground bunker. Detectives contacted by the victim's parents thought that the girl had simply run away from home, as is often the case with teenagers. Elizabeth, realizing that they would hardly be able to find her, tried to ingratiate herself with her tormentor and after some time was able to persuade him to give her mobile phone, ostensibly for games. Of course, the smart girl sent an SMS to her parents, and the police were able to locate the victim by a cell signal - Fillow was captured and sent to prison for 421 years.

While you are sleeping

Shot from the film "Paranormal Activity"

The following story is not documented, but the girl who told her to the world was convincing enough to be believed by thousands of readers of one well-known Internet portal. A user with the nickname laundrysoap told the chilling story of her boyfriend's mother - a girl who lived with her family in a strange house, each of the rooms in which had its own door to the street. The young resident felt uncomfortable even in the bedroom, it constantly seemed to her that someone was watching her. Parents did not take fears seriously, even when the girl said that someone was pulling the doorknob to her bedroom outside. Her father was not alarmed by the dark silhouette that he once noticed in the doorway of his room - the man considered that his eyesight had let him down. The uninvited guest gave himself away by footprints on the freshly fallen snow - one day the family discovered that a whole path had been trampled around the house, and the footprints ended at several doors at once. A man who followed the tracks discovered the house where a mentally retarded teenager lived, who admitted that he really went every night to watch the girl through the window or right in the room.

cramped trunk

Shot from the movie "Alarm Call"

On a September evening in 1992, a social worker at a school for children with disabilities, Jennifer Asbenson, missed the bus that was supposed to take her to work. To the delight of the girl, a random motorist, who also turned out to be a nice guy, undertook to throw her up. But the fact that he waited for her after the shift should have alerted Jennifer, but she got into the car again. The second trip was not so pleasant - a man (who turned out to be a serial killer Andrew Urdiales) took Jen to the desert, tied him up, beat him and raped her. Then the maniac decided to have fun, threw the girl into the trunk of a car and went to travel the streets. Asbenson quickly found a mechanism that opened the trunk lid from the inside, but waited for an opportunity. At one of the intersections, the girl jumped out and ran to a truck carrying workers. Alas, Urdiales reacted instantly and quickly disappeared from sight, the police managed to find and seize him only five years later.

I'm watching you

Shot from the movie "Rear Window"

In the densely built-up American suburbs, "stalkering" is commonplace. When your windows overlook the neighbor's bedroom, involuntarily at least once you find yourself "peeping". The girl, whose name the police did not disclose, one day, getting ready for bed, heard a strange noise in the street. Looking out the window, the young lady saw a drunken neighbor in the yard, shouting obscenities at her. Considering that this was an isolated incident, the girl did not report the incident to her parents and almost paid for it - the next morning, going down to breakfast, the girl found not her mother in the kitchen, but a neighbor armed with a huge knife. On instinct, the mistress of the house jumped out into the street and ran with all her might, crying for help. The police, who arrived on a call, found that the alcoholic neighbor was literally crazy on the basis of peeping, the walls of his bedroom were hung with a photo of a girl in the window, as if in a bad film about a psychopath.

bloody show

Shot from the film "Mirrors"

For two years, actor Daniel Hoivers played theater stage the role of Mortimer in the production of Mary Stuart. In the course of the play, this character, powerless to free Mary, cuts his own throat with a dagger in anguish, and every evening Hoyvers ran a blunt blade of a fake knife across his neck. However, one of the performances almost ended real death, a sharply sharpened blade fell into the hands of the actor, and Daniel, not noticing the forgery, slashed himself along the carotid artery. The audience went into applause, the theater has not offered such realism for a long time, and only fellow actors noticed that Hoivers was convulsing. Fortunately, the suit collar prevented the actor from inflicting a mortal wound on himself, and the bleeding was stopped. Hoivers declined to take legal action, so it is still unknown whether the incident was a tragic accident, attempted murder, or intentional self-harm gone too far.

Mystical stories from real life are loved by almost every person who is interested not only in esotericism, but also tries to explain such cases from a scientific point of view, using a whole arsenal of tools consisting of school and university knowledge in various disciplines. However, mystical stories are called so because they have no reasonable explanation.

Our site contains the most terrible stories. Basically, these are scary stories from life, told by people on social networks.

For apples. Village mystical story.

Once I went to the village, to my distant aunt. And they have it all agriculture is holding on, but it was already difficult for her, so she asked me to help. Well, there, pick vegetables, fix everything, clean the beds.

And somehow, after another picking in the ground, I decided to relax and eat an apple. And we had an overgrown field nearby, bordered by a forest, and stunted wild apple trees grew on it. Actually, my aunt also grew apple trees, but she only had Antonovka, and I didn’t like sour apples, so I went there.

When I went for apples, I did not notice how I climbed over the straw arch. Then it turned out that it was not worth it. While I was picking apples, one branch almost gouged out my eye, scratched my cheek until it bled. Oh well, it was worth it. The apples were small, but clean, not wormy and strong. And then I turn around, and I see that it turns out that I have gone far from home. He was barely visible through the tall grass.

Well, I began to wade through the grass. And she didn’t seem to want to let me in, and I also had the feeling that I was going in the wrong direction. I turned around many times - the forest did not even move away! And then I felt something moving under my foot, looked and went crazy - it was a snake. And no, I've already seen, I know what they look like. And then I rushed through the thickets so much that after 5 minutes I was standing near the house. My aunt saw me, came up and asked what I was doing there for so long and why in this form.

Turns out I was gone for about an hour. I told her the whole mystical story as it is. She said, well, was it worth it? I said yes - I picked good apples. She looked at me suspiciously and walked away. And I dumped the remaining apples on the grass (I lost most of it when I ran out of there) and went nuts - they were all rotten and wormy. Then I asked my aunt what the hell it was, and she said that such arches are put up by any evil spirit that lives in the field and fools a person's head. She said that in fact the purpose of these arches is to prevent a person from reaching the house. And then I found a snake on the Internet - it turned out to be a copperhead.

Emergency in the military unit. military mysticism

My father served in a missile defense unit located deep in the steppe. The part was somehow difficult, with secret equipment, secret itself, and so on - to the point that it was not just surrounded by a net, but by a concrete fence with heavy, solid metal gates with electronic latches. There were towers near the gates, on which sentries were on duty around the clock. And around - the steppe. Not a single one for 60 kilometers sentient being except for the political officer. "Grandfathers" often talked about various incomprehensible things that happened on the territory of the unit - either the soldier disappeared without a trace, or some ensign went crazy, but dad did not believe. But, as usual, it happened "once".

And once he was on guard - four people, including him, had to walk around the military unit for exactly half the night in search of obvious or hidden opponents. Did they walk normally (there weren’t even wolves there, only lizards - that’s all the enemies)? and on the last lap of honor they stopped to relieve themselves on the fence of their native part - literally twenty meters from the searchlight beam installed on the tower. They began to pour, and then the soldier who was standing farthest from all began to yell. And not just yelled, but with obvious signs that he was being dragged away from the others - the voice is removed. All the lanterns were pulled out, they shine - there is no person. And no footprints in the sand, nothing. Only the machine is lying around. It is clear that they all messed up, because not a single charter said what to do in such a case.

Then they all rushed in horror to the gates, yelling at the sentry, turn, they say, the searchlight, look what is happening there. He turned around and said there was nothing. A clean perimeter, and that's it. By this time, the lock was clicked on them, the gates were opened, and they ran into the territory in horror. It was necessary to close the gate. They closed like a simple "English" lock-latch, that is, with a simple slam. Dad pulls the sash on himself, but it does not close. It’s not that someone is holding it, it’s just like a stone has rolled under the sash or something is resting. That's when my father went crazy.

He saw that at the level of his head, a paw was holding on to the edge of the sash. I asked him to describe in more detail, but what he said, he said - withered human hand, gray, mouse-colored, with ugly nails. She didn’t pull the sash towards herself, but she didn’t let it close either, she just held on and that’s it. Batya then, in a panic, yelled at the sentry to open fire on everything that was outside the gate, but when he turned the searchlight, the gate slammed shut easily and there was nothing there again. After that, the soldier was searched for a week, but no trace of him was found. Here is such a mystical scary story happened.

Night lover of carousels. Another mystical story from the village

I have a wooden house in the village, and sometimes I go there to rest. And then one day we were sitting in this village with a rather large company visiting one girl, watching "Dandy".

At about two o'clock in the morning, I began to experience incomprehensible anxiety. I remembered that I left the car on the territory of an old abandoned pioneer camp: it is very close to the village, a favorite meeting place for young people, there is everything you need for happiness - silence, the absence of people over 20 years old, abandoned buildings where you can quietly smoke or drink. So, in the afternoon we opened the old rusty gates to the camp, and I drove the transport there, I myself don’t understand now why this had to be done. And so, taking a can of beer with me so as not to get bored on the road, I left the house and went to pick up a car from the camp.

A player in my ears, a great summer night, good beer ... I reached the camp gate in about five minutes. He opened the gate and went on - the car was three hundred meters from them. As soon as I entered the territory, on a broken asphalt path, along which crowds of schoolchildren were pacing just 15 years ago, I felt anxiety. But it was natural - I must say, our camp is not simple, in the 90s corpses were often found there, which became such not at all of their own free will. Then, in the summer of 2001, it seems that some satanic cult tried to organize gatherings there, however, something didn’t work out for them, and we saw them five times, no more. But it has left its mark. In general, the gloomy place of our abandoned camp is strange, and at night, what is there to hide, terrible. But I, a supporter of rationalism, as usual ordered my subconscious, which begged to leave as soon as possible, shut up, and continued on my way. And a minute later I got to the car, climbed inside, turned on the music and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. I turned around on a narrow path, risking getting stuck, by the way, and drove to the exit. Having already passed those same gates, being formally already on the territory of the village, and not the camp, I thought that it was not good to leave the gates open.

He stopped, put on the handbrake, got out and returned to the camp, again experiencing a strange discomfort, which, I must say, was twice as strong as five minutes ago. So I quickly closed the gate and ran about ten meters deep into the camp for natural needs. Then he took out a pack of cigarettes, lit a cigarette, turned around to the gate, and ... Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that someone was riding on the old, long-rusted carousels, which are about twenty meters from the path along which I was driving. At a very high speed. It was very dark, but I could make out a human silhouette, light-colored clothes fluttering on it, and its gaze was fixed in front of me. He didn't look at me though ordinary person should have been interested in my manipulation of the gate. What am I saying, ordinary normal person will not ride at two in the morning on carousels in an abandoned camp. I yelled and rushed as fast as I could in the car - thank God it was running. Clutch and gas to the floor, a squeal and the smell of burnt rubber, a frantic glance in the rearview mirror…

And at that moment the dipped beam turns off, and I stop seeing anything. Yelling no worse than the first time, I pull, almost tearing out, the high-beam handle. Thank God, it lights up and illuminates the rapidly approaching houses. I don’t look back anymore. When I arrived at the girl, where my friends were sitting with their film, I stuck in the car for a long time, smoked, listened to music. Tried to calm down.

I'll tell you that real life, even without any monsters and mysticism, is nowhere more terrible.

Once I was cycling outside the city, and about five or six kilometers from the district I found an abandoned motor depot. A whole bunch of buildings - boxes, administrative buildings, some kind of barracks, substations, and a little on the outskirts there was a one-story bath-shower room made of red brick, a sort of small house. Strangely, everything was in a more or less divine state, although the base had been abandoned for a long time. I explained this by the fact that the entrance to it begins with a completely inconspicuous turn from a major highway, and there are no nearby settlements. In general, a quiet, deserted place. The stump is clear, I began to visit there: I built springboards for the bike, came off for my own pleasure, sunbathed.

Once we drove with a partner and his friend past the turn to the base in a car. I suggested that they stop by for a couple of minutes, show their "household", and my partner was looking for some building materials for the dacha, which were more expensive to buy than they were needed, but they were at the base. In general, we turned, we drive up. I must add that by this time I had not been to the "hacienda" for a couple of weeks, but I immediately realized that someone had been here. Firstly, where the asphalted area in front of the base began, some kind of charred sticks were stuck. Upon closer examination, it turned out that these were burnt torches.

Well, okay, some Tolkienists here waved mops, let them. But nearby, on the road, a whole poem was written in some brown rubbish in incomprehensible signs - they did not look like either hieroglyphs or runes, I vouch for this. It didn't look like Tolkienists anymore. Further more. The guys with me were inquisitive, although they were both 30 years old, they went to climb the buildings. Everyone looked, and then one of them saw this same bathhouse in the outskirts. He comes up to me and says - you’ve settled in well here, you even hung curtains on the windows. I thought he was joking. It would be better to joke. All the windows (in which there were even no frames) and the door were curtained from the inside with a thick black cloth, and something was whimpering inside.

In general, the guys with me were not cowardly - one firefighter, the other was just an extreme in life, but we all messed up at the same time. Armed with sticks. The partner throws off a rag from the window with a stick, and we observe the following picture: the interior of the bath, lined with tiles, is covered with these very letters from bottom to ceiling, and partly with a marker, partly with paint, partly with this brown rubbish, but the walls are covered COMPLETELY. To do this, you need a whole team and a week of time at least. Keys hung from the ceiling. Ordinary door keys, very many, several hundred to be exact. In the middle of the room was a table with two black cylindrical objects. And in the next room, someone was breathing hoarsely.

It is clear that I did not want to go there somehow. There was some kind of ritual with a good share of shiz, and it was not known whether this ritual was completed, or without our livers it could not be completed and they were expected to visit. I suggested throwing a brick at one of the cylinders on the table. Everyone voted yes, and I threw. It turned out to be a three-liter jar wrapped in the same black cloth as on the windows, it broke, and a black puddle of some kind of filth spread across the table. We realized what it was after a couple of seconds - such a terrible smell of rotten meat hit our noses from the window opening that we ran back ten meters - I'm sure it was real, pretty rotten blood, as much as six liters of blood ( We didn’t beat the second can, but I think that the contents there weren’t Coca-Cola either). When we got used to the stench a little, a firefighter friend suggested that we still see who was wheezing behind the wall. They pinched their noses, tore off a rag from the entrance, and entered with sticks. What I saw blew me away completely.

Two pigs were hung in the corner under the ceiling, each the size of a large dog, one, obviously dead, was cut all over with something thin - the skin on it was simply turned into noodles, there were no eyes, the floor was covered with her blood, and the rope, on which she hung, came out directly from her mouth - I still don’t know if it was a hook or not, but obviously something brutal - the tongue and part of the intestines stuck out. And the second pig was still alive, twitching its paws and breathing hoarsely. She was suspended in exactly the same way, but there were much fewer cuts. I think that she did not make any sounds, because either she was already exhausted, or her vocal cords were torn out by this incomprehensible “hanger”. But it made such an impression that I was able to calm the trembling in the jaw only late in the evening with the help of one and a half liters of whiskey for three.

In the semi-darkness, with silence, a pig hanging by its intestines kicks its legs, among the keys hanging from the ceiling, hieroglyphs and the unbearable smell of carrion from spilled blood. Later I searched the Internet for a description of at least such a ritual: keys, blood, a sacrificial pig - nowhere such filthiness is found, even in black magic. Another unpleasant moment: the blood was clearly not those pigs, already rotten, but whose - who knows. Obviously, these guys didn’t stuff six liters of mosquitoes.

New place. Mystical story from Uzbekistan

In the courtyard of the eighty-fourth year, Uzbekistan, a small town two hundred kilometers from Tashkent. Angren. Valley of death. In fact, there was nothing particularly terrible in that town, it’s just that the place is not very pleasant: mountains are everywhere. They seemed to hang over and want to crush. We arrived there with the whole family: grandfather and grandmother (on the maternal side), mother and father, aunt with family and uncle. We bought several excellent apartments and cottages at once and were going to live happily ever after.

Five years of quiet and peaceful life pass - the family's income is much higher than average: the mother works in the city executive committee, the father conducts military training at the local school. I'm in sixth class. Well, racially motivated fights are quite normal. And then it started.

First, ants began to appear in the house. Thousands. And they crushed this scum, and poisoned them, which they did not do, but they continued to trample their paths. After a couple of months, the ants disappeared, and cockroaches took their place. Huge and vile, a finger, perhaps, long. They appeared at night: they crawled along the walls and ceiling, periodically falling on the face. It was really gross.

Tired of the unsuccessful struggle, the whole family moved to my aunt. She lived with her husband and daughter on the other side of the city in a luxurious four-room apartment on the sixth floor of the only nine-story building in the city. For some time it was very good: the whole family watched the video, played with my sister and did other fun things. Parents at that time were engaged in chemical warfare in an old apartment using a sanitary and epidemiological station and other heavy weapons.

Several months flew by like one day, and now it's time to return home. There were no insects. There was a strange sense of threat. At least for me. Parents, as true communists, of course, did not believe in any nonsense there. And the feeling did not go away: being in the apartment, I felt that someone was watching me. Looks bad. After a while, this feeling began to haunt me outside the walls of the house. One had only to be left alone, go out, for example, for bread, and you feel a boring look on the back of your head. I always tried to be in society, even if society promised constant swearing and fights. Hanging around with peers, tried to smoke.

I just couldn't be in that apartment. I slept in the same room with my parents. At one “wonderful” moment, my father left for Tashkent for several months. It seems like a qualification to improve, although in fact there were family matters. As a result, I was left with my mother alone in a three-room apartment. The feeling of danger began to disappear: it seemed that the invisible spy began to hack, and then completely removed. I even started sleeping in a separate room again. The calm before the storm.

I woke up with a feeling of chilling horror. For a while I couldn't open my eyes, no, I didn't want to open them. I felt that death was near. I still remember those moments with a shudder. Silence, even the ticking of the clock is not heard, the cold (in July southern country) and overwhelming horror.

A flash and a roar - that's what brought me out of the state of a leaf trembling in the wind. I open my eyes and see in the beam of a lantern a figure bent, apparently in writhing pain. I instantly jump out of bed and run to the doorway with a gun in the hands of his mother. A growing sense of terror as I see the figure slowly rise. When I find myself behind my mother, several shots are heard, a heart-rending scream. Mother screams. I then, it seems, crap himself and passed out.

I woke up already at my grandfather's house: my mother, pale, pale, uncle and grandfather with grandmother are sitting at the table. And a few cops crowd. Having discussed something, the grandfather, together with the uncle and the cops, went to our apartment with my mother. Look for the robber's body. A few hours after they left, shooting began. Such a good one: they beat me in long bursts. The body of the robber was not found, and the cops, having done their job - having collected the shells and counting the holes in the walls, left.

Grandfather and uncle stayed to guard the apartment. And then, apparently, it began. Grandfather, they say, was found on the veranda with a Stechkin in his hand. Dead. Heart attack. Uncle, although he remained alive, turned gray and began to stutter. And he drank hard. I drank quickly. The next day, not only without waiting for the funeral of my grandfather, but without even saying goodbye, my mother and I left for my father in Tashkent, and from there the three of us flew to Moscow. I tried talking to my mother about the incident. She always spoke reluctantly: either it was a bandit, or her grandfather's inheritance, who decided to take revenge through her children and grandchildren, or in general, the devil knows what. Once she got into a conversation, saying that she shot at this creature at least two times. Only one 12-gauge hole was found in the wall, and my grandfather shot 2 magazines.

An unexpected phenomenon

Last summer I went to the countryside. The village is more than 200 years old - a place, in a sense, historical, with its own sights. One of them is a stone road built by convicts under Catherine II.

As a child, my uncle told me that convicts who died during construction were buried right under the road, and were already paved with stone from above. So, last summer my girlfriend and I were taken for a walk there at night (my friend wanted to admire the stars away from the lanterns).

The night is quiet, dark, there is a forest around the road, there is no moon. I did not immediately understand where the feeling of unease, as if "something was wrong," came from. By that time we had already moved far enough from the village, the lanterns disappeared behind the forest. I began to frantically look around, trying to understand what could alert me. Naturally, I didn’t see anything, the forest stood like a black wall around, it was impossible to distinguish the outlines of trees, and even where they end and the blackening sky begins. By the way, no red, ominously glowing eyes were also found.

A thought flashed through my head: how did we even manage to get so far away from the village in this darkness and not go astray. It was then that I lowered my eyes to look at the road. She glowed! More precisely, it was clearly visible! Every stone, every plant that had broken through the hollows between them. And this despite the fact that there was nothing around that even somewhat resembling a light source. It was then that I remembered the stories that my uncle told, grabbed my girlfriend in an armful and preferred to get out of there as soon as possible. I don’t know how to explain this, maybe it’s possible, but I was pretty scared then.

Children from the dark

I'm going to Smolensk to make out the car. Sunny summer day, in the back seat - food, drinks, a warm blanket. You may have to spend the night in the car. Smoke breaks, sleep for twenty minutes, a sandwich. On the road again. Flat straight road. Customs in a few hours. Decor. Boring faces. Papers, copier. Payment of expenses. Big truck drivers. Cigarettes, queues, waiting. Far after midnight - back. There are few cars. Oncoming drivers politely switch to low beam. I start to fall asleep. I know that in such cases it is impossible to go further.

After a while - the exit from the highway, carefully moving out. An asphalt road leads to a wasteland. Along the edges is a forest. Rugged earthen ground. I stop in the center, lay out the rear seats, spread the blanket. Quiet. For some reason I don't want to turn off the light. I finish my cigarette, lie down, turn off the lamp and headlights. I toss and turn for a while, then I fall asleep. The dream is dark, like the forest around the car.

I wake up from the fact that the car is rocking. Laughter is heard. Children's laughter, funny and sinister at the same time. The windows are fogged up, you can't see anything. I approach the window, trying to see something. At this time, a child's hand suddenly beats on the glass from the other side and slides down. I scream in surprise. I move into the front seat. Frantically looking for the keys. Nowhere. I pat my pockets. The laughter doesn't stop. The car is shaking harder and harder. From somewhere it smells of burning. The keys, it turns out, are in the ignition. The motor roars. I turn on the headlights automatically. Children stand in a dense line in front of the car. There are twenty of them. They are dressed in old, still Soviet-style, official pajamas. There are black spots on their faces and clothes. Reverse gear. Over bumps, howling engine. Children's figures are removed, one of them waves his hand. I take off on the highway, gas to the floor, I fly like crazy. Only now I notice that it is pouring rain.

DPS post. I turn to him, almost crash into the wall, jump out, rush to the surprised guard, confusingly tell what happened. He laughs, tests me for alcohol. Starts to itself, suggests to have a rest. Interested in where it was. I am telling. He listens attentively, then darkens, exchanges glances with his partner. Then they tell me that there was a children's boarding school in that place, it burned down in the late eighties, almost all the pupils died. Despite this, I am assured that I just had a nightmare. I agree. Here, in the warmth, in the company of armed traffic cops, everything really seems like a dream. After a while, I thank them, get ready and go out to the car. On the hood, almost already washed away by rain, one can see prints of small children's hands covered with soot.

obsession

I have been living on my own for two weeks now, because my mother recently died - they buried the whole family. I still can’t leave, I never knew my father. A fun life, in general, is coming - me and my cat. And it seems to me that I'm slowly starting to go crazy.

Yesterday I returned home from work (I work in shifts as a packer on the assembly line) at three in the morning, had dinner with my favorite Doshirak and went to bed. The mobile phone, as usual, was placed on the bedside table at the head of the bed. And so, in the morning they called me. Through my sleep, I pressed the answer button and heard:

Hey, son, listen, I've already left for work. Could you take the chicken out of the freezer, I'll make something tonight.

Okay, mom, - I answered through a dream and hung up.

Half a minute later I was already standing over the bathroom sink, washing my face with cold water. I was chilled.

“I wonder who could joke like that? I thought. But it was her voice! I thought for a long time and eventually came to a non-brilliant conclusion: well, they were joking, and they were joking, not enough idiots, or something. With these thoughts in mind, I went to the kitchen to make my morning coffee.

There was a chicken in the sink. If it were not for the morning sleepiness, I probably would have fallen into hysterics, and only my legs buckled. I’m sitting, everything is shaking, but I don’t have enough spirit to get up and do something with this chicken. And then the doorbell rang. Opening the door, I saw the postman. He handed me a letter. The letter had no return address and no name of the addressee. I go to the kitchen, start to open the envelope - and here I am again like a butt on the head. The sink is empty! Not a trace of the damn chicken. I put the letter aside, looked into the freezer - it lies, frozen, in pieces of ice, obviously it has not been taken out for a week, from the very moment I threw it there. “It looks like this,” I thought. - Psychic, crippled by death loved one still makes itself felt." He returned to the letter, took out a folded piece of paper and began to read:

“Dear Tamara Alexandrovna (that was my mother's name), we offer you our sincere condolences on the death of your son. ".

"WHAT?!" - flashed through my head.

". in connection with the death of your son (my name and patronymic were written here) at work.

I fell into a stupor. What happens? A letter comes from my place of work without a return address with my obituary, and they know that she died - I took money for a funeral from the mutual aid fund, and the authorities organized a vacation for me for a week!

In the end, I decided to deal with all this devilry upon arrival from work, got dressed and left. At work, I asked leading questions in the personnel department and in the supply department - not directly, of course, but given that they looked at me like an idiot, I realized that someone seriously decided to piss me off or put me in a fool. After working through the day with such unhappy thoughts, I went home.

I went into the apartment and immediately felt a strange smell from my mother's room. Did the cat again go out of need where it is not necessary? I took a washcloth from the bathroom, went into my mother's room and actually saw a stain on the bed. Turned on the light and almost caught heart attack I broke out in a cold sweat, my chest pinched, all I could do was settle down like a bag on the floor and convulsively grab the air with my mouth. On the mother's bed there was a red-brown stain on half the sheet. To say that I was crazy is to say nothing.

I don’t remember how I crumpled this sheet and threw it into the garbage chute - perhaps this is what forensics call “a state of passion”. I remember myself already in the kitchen, overturning a glass of vodka. And now I'm surfing the Internet and typing this text in order to somehow systematize what is happening to me. To my right is a letter about my death, dated tomorrow, and to my left is a phone that has been ringing for five minutes. My mother calls me, and her switched off device lies in the next room. I don't want to answer this call, I really don't want to. But the phone does not want to settle down.

If I manage to survive this night and not go crazy, then tomorrow I will have to go to work on the night shift. But I don't want to die, I don't want to.

Younger brother

Once I spent the night with my friends Sergey and Ira after a good drink in honor of their wedding anniversary. Driving in my condition was fraught with an accident, and he had a large house inherited from his grandmother, where there are many rooms. It was a reasonable offer - especially for a bachelor, whom no one expected at home.

Look, we often turn off the lights at night, - Serge warned me. - So be more careful. My son is always throwing toys around. Once he nearly killed himself.

I said that I understood everything, and taking bed sheets went to bed. Either I got too many impressions that evening, or the new place affected, but I slept exceptionally badly. I constantly had some kind of nightmares, it was stuffy (and this was wide open open window). At about two o'clock in the morning, in addition to everything, I was overcome by a terrible dry land. And if I still somehow struggled with nightmares, then thirst made me finally wake up and go in search of water.

There was no light in the house, as Serge had promised. However, my eyes had already become accustomed to the darkness, so I did not experience any particular problems. When I reached the refrigerator, I took out a pack of cold juice and halved it in one fell swoop. Then I heard a soft, barely audible cry of a child. I frowned. Only Plato, Sergei's four-year-old son, could cry. I stood in the kitchen for a while, listening, but the crying continued, and Ira and Sergey, apparently, were sleeping too soundly.

I returned the juice to the refrigerator and decided to see what was happening with the child. On the one hand, this, of course, was not my concern, but to pretend that I did not hear anything, and I could not go to bed either. Following the sound, I reached a door at the far end of the corridor and stopped. The crying was most definitely coming from behind the door, so I opened it and peered into the room. A typical children's room - a spread out bed on the left, a table by the window, a bulk of the closet as a dark spot on the right side.

Plato? I asked softly. - This is Uncle Denis. Why are you crying?

Someone stirred in the corner. The crying subsided.

“Aha, here is Plato,” I thought, and went into the room. Closing the door behind me, I went up to the baby, who was sitting in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, and softly sobbing, hugging some kind of toy. - Well, - I asked as benevolently as possible, - and why are we roaring?

Plato was silent, then quietly said:

There is a scarecrow here.

Behind, - the child whispered very quietly. I turned around. Of course, there was no one behind.

It's in the closet, - Plato stood next to me. - Waiting for you to leave.

I, muttering the words put at such moments, that, they say, it was all a dream and there is nothing here, went to the closet. Plato remained standing in the corner.

See? There is nothing here, - I said and opened the door. The closet was indeed empty. I persuaded Plato to go to bed, wished him Good night and promised, just a little, to immediately punish any scarecrow within this house.

Sergey woke me up in the morning. We had breakfast with him and began to gather for fishing. Already near the lake, I remembered my night adventure and told it to my friend. Serge remained silent and said:

What? I looked at my friend in surprise. He was pale as death.

Plato slept all night next to us. And in the back room along the corridor, my older brother was sleeping a long time ago.

He was found dead when he was four. He said he saw something coming out of the closet.

Unsuccessful purchase. Real mystical story

My girlfriend and I somehow decided to make repairs - there was a mini-flood in the kitchen (suddenly hot water), and the old linoleum fell into disrepair. We decided to buy a new one. Let's go to a French construction supermarket. There was linoleum in the department, but only expensive. My girlfriend and I are not rich - we didn’t want to spend some insane thousands of rubles on repairs, and asked the consultant where the solutions were cheaper. The consultant silently pointed to the discount department.

In the corner of the department, on the bottom shelf, he hung - a fat, handsome, beige man with a geometric pattern in the shape of triangles, soft to the touch. The price per meter was so ridiculous that we immediately decided to take it and asked to cut off the right amount for us. Coincidence, but that's how much was on the roll.

The first oddity was waiting for us in the supermarket - this product was not in the barcode database. They wanted to give a damn about the dream, but it turned out that the linoleum was brought by a freelance truck along with yogurts a few hours ago and simply did not have time to bring it in. We never found the reason for the markdown, the consultant said something about a fire at the plant, although our roll was clearly not damaged. On the way home, the girl noted that he smelled a little strange - sweet and spicy. It was not the usual smell of burning, but rather the scent of a light oriental incense.

We noticed the second oddity when we already brought the roll home and began to prepare for replacement. Our cat, a half-yard Siamese, somehow strangely looked at the linoleum, poked it with her paw and suddenly jumped back with a terrible hiss, pressing her ears. Apparently she didn't like his smell. We laughed at the unreasonable animal and set to work. By the end of the day, the kitchen looked great - the linoleum laid down perfectly and did not even require ironing. For the feet, it was even more pleasant than a pile carpet - it was warm. This was not very surprising, because it was July outside the window, but it was warm just in moderation, as if adjusting to our temperature.

At night, the girl pushed me aside and whispered that we had problems. At first I did not understand what was the matter, but then I heard - measured slaps were heard from the kitchen, like those that can be heard in the pool. Rare, but very distinct. And the creak of wood. We live on the first floor, we do not close the window, therefore, the idea arose of a night thief.

Gathering his strength, he took a flashlight and resolutely jumped into the kitchen. No one, only the wind is blowing and drunkards are screaming outside the window. Empty. I climbed into the chest of drawers, took out vodka and drank a glass, the girl drank the second. We went back to bed and fell asleep safely.

The next morning, a third oddity was discovered - our cat had gone somewhere. They climbed the whole apartment, even the entrance (you never know, she could get out), walked around the area and called her for a long time - the result is zero. It was very pitiful, but the feeling of something unearthly and dangerous was mixed with pity, something that caused chills on the back and goosebumps.

At night, after a stormy lovemaking, I already turned to the wall, but my girlfriend could not sleep. She was saying something (calmly, not anxiously), and I listened to her half-heartedly and fell asleep. The last thing I remember is that she got off the bed and went to drink water.

I dreamed that I was walking down the corridor and I saw a door from under which there was a rumble and a pale pink light broke through. I reach out to her hands, and she suddenly swings open. What was behind it was so terrible that I instantly woke up in a cold sweat.

It was already morning, the birds were singing outside the window and the sun was shining. I rolled over on the other side in order to hug my beloved. The bed was empty.

All the girl's things were in place, clothes hung on hangers. Friends were silent and said that she could only be with me. We filed a complaint with the police, but the search was unsuccessful. I was just awful. Every night I dreamed of this door, I stopped eating normally and going to work.

A week after the disappearance of the girl, the kitchen began to smell strange. It was the now familiar, but intensified, smell of linoleum, with an admixture of something nauseating. I thought about the dump, but it was not in it. Something reddish-brown was visible from under the edge of the linoleum. I tore off the linoleum with trembling hands and vomited.

The entire floor under the linoleum was covered with rotting bloody porridge. The worst thing was waiting for me reverse side linoleum - there were burnt prints of four cat's paws and two female feet.

Most horror stories are like nonsense and clearly border on insanity. No matter how: some of them are more than just real. We will tell about them.

Core

On March 16, 1995, Briton Terry Cottle shot himself in the bathroom of his apartment. Suicide with the words "help me, I'm dying" died right in the arms of his wife Cheryl.

A healthy and well-developed Cottle shot himself in the head, but his body remained unharmed. In order not to waste such good, the doctors decided to donate the organs of the deceased. The widow agreed.

Cottle's 33-year-old heart was transplanted into 57-year-old Sonny Graham. The patient recovered and wrote a letter of thanks to Cheryl. In 1996, they met and Graham felt an incredible attraction to the widow. In 2001, the sweet couple began to live together, and in 2004 they got married.

But in 2008, the poor heart stopped beating forever: Sonny, for unknown reasons, also shot himself.

earnings

How to make money like a man? Someone becomes a businessman, others go to a factory, the rest turn into clerks, bums or journalists. But Mao Sujiyama surpassed everyone: the Japanese artist cut off his manhood and prepared a savory dish from it. Moreover, there were even six crazy people who paid $250 each to eat this nightmare in the presence of 70 witnesses.

Source: worldofwonder.net

reincarnation

In 1976, hospital orderly Allen Schowery from Chicago, without permission, entered the apartment of colleague Teresita Basa. Probably, the guy wanted to rob the young lady's home, but when he saw the mistress of the house, Allen had to stab and burn her so that the woman would not tell anything.

A year later, Remy Chua (another medical colleague) began to see Teresita's corpse wandering the corridors of the hospital. It would be half the trouble if this ghost just staggered. So it moved into poor Remy, began to control her like a puppet, speak in the voice of Teresita and told the cops about everything that had happened.

The police, relatives of the deceased and Remy's family were shocked by what was happening. But the killer was still split. And they put him behind bars.

Source: cinema.fanpage.it

Three-legged guest

In Enfield (Illinois) it is better not to call. A three-legged one and a half meter long, slippery and hairy monster with short arms lives there. On the evening of April 25, 1973, it attacked little Greg Garrett (however, it took away only his sneakers), then knocked on Henry McDaniel's house. The man was shocked by the sight. Therefore, out of fear, he drove three bullets into an unexpected guest. The monster overcame 25 meters of McDaniel's yard in three jumps and disappeared.

The sheriff's deputies also met the Enfield monster several times. But no one has been able to solve it. Some kind of mystic.

Chernoglazki

Brian Bethel is a respected journalist who has long built successful career. Therefore, he does not descend to the level of urban legends. But in the 1990s, the master of the pen started a blog in which he published a strange story.

One evening, Brian was sitting in a car parked in the parking lot of a movie theater. Several 10-12-year-old children approached him. The journalist lowered the window, began to look for a dollar for the kids and even exchanged a few words with them. The children complained that they could not enter the cinema without being invited, that they were cold and that he could not invite them into the car. And then Brian saw: in the eyes of the interlocutors, there was no white at all, only a mob.

The poor fellow, in fright, instantly closed the window and pressed the gas pedal all the way. His story is far from the only story about strange black-eyed people. Have you already seen such aliens in your area?

green mysticism

Doris Biter is not the most pleasant resident of Culver City (California). She constantly drinks and insults her sons. She also knows how to summon spirits. In the late 1970s, several researchers decided to see for themselves the authenticity of her stories. It all ended with the fact that the young lady with spells at home really called the green silhouette of a man who scared everyone half to death. And one daredevil even lost consciousness.

In 1982, based on the stories of Biter, the horror film The Entity was made.

4 scariest horror stories of our childhood. You will turn gray as for the first time!

Remember, we told each other in the camps about the red hand and black curtains? And there was always such a master of storytelling, in which a familiar story took on the outlines of a long and exciting thriller no worse than King's.

We recalled four such stories. Don't read them in the dark!

black curtains

One girl's grandmother died. When she was dying, she called the girl's mother to her and said:

Do what you want with my room, but do not hang black curtains there.

They hung white curtains in the room, and now the girl began to live there. And everything was fine.

But one day she went with the bad guys to burn tires. They decided to burn the tires in the cemetery, right on one old grave that had collapsed. They began to argue about who would set it on fire, they drew lots with matches, and it fell out to set fire to the girl. So she set fire to the tire, and from there the smoke will go right into her eyes. Hurt! She screamed, the guys got scared for her and dragged her to the hospital by the hands. But she doesn't see anything.

At the hospital, she was told that it was a miracle that her eyes had not been burned out, and they prescribed a regimen - to stay at home with eyes closed and that the room was always dark and dark. And don't go to school. And no fire can be seen until he recovers!

Then mother began to look for dark curtains in the girl's room. I searched and searched, but there are no dark ones, only white, yellow, green light ones. And black ones. There is nothing to do, she bought black curtains and hung the girl in the room.

The next day my mother hung them up and went to work. And the girl sat down homework write at the table. She sits and feels something touch her elbow. She shook, looked, but there was nothing but curtains next to her elbow. And so several times.

The next day, she feels that something is touching her shoulders. He jumps up, but there is nothing around, only the curtains hang nearby.

On the third day, she immediately moved the chair to the far end of the table. Sitting, writing lessons, and something touches her neck! The girl jumped up and ran to the kitchen, and did not enter the room.

Mom came, the lessons were not written, she began to scold the girl. And the girl began to cry and ask her mother not to leave her in that room.

Mom says:

You can't be such a coward! Look, I will sit at your table all night while you sleep, so that you know that there is nothing to worry about.

In the morning the girl wakes up, calls her mother, but her mother is silent. The girl began to cry loudly from fear, the neighbors came running, and her mother was sitting dead at the table. They took her to the morgue.

Then the girl went to the kitchen, took the matches, returned to the bedroom and set fire to the black curtains. They were burned, but her eyes bled out.

Sister

One girl's father died, and her mother was very poor, did not work and did not know how, and they had to sell the apartment. They went to the old grandmother's house in the village, the grandmother had died two years ago, and no one lived there. But it was decent there, because a neighbor cleaned up there for money. And the girl and her mother began to live there. The girl was far from going to school, and she was given such a certificate that she studies at home, and only goes to school in the regional center by the end of the quarter, so she and her mother sat at home all day, only sometimes they went to the store, also in the district center. And my mother was pregnant, and her belly was growing.

He grew for a long, long time, and grew twice as much as usual, for such a long time the child was not born. Then her mother apparently went to the store in the winter, and she was gone for almost a week, the girl was exhausted: she was scared at home alone, it was black in the windows, the electricity was intermittent, snowdrifts were piled up to the very windows. The food was running out, but her neighbor fed her. And then late in the evening, or at night, there was a knock on the door and the mother's voice called out to the girl. The girl opened the door and her mother came in. She was all pale, with blue circles around her eyes, thin and tired. She gave birth to a child and held him in her arms, wrapped in some kind of shabby skin, maybe even a dog. The girl quickly closed the door, put the child on the table, began to undress her mother - she was very cold, she was all icy. In the iron stove, the girl made a fire, near this stove they warmed themselves in the evenings, and seated her mother in an old armchair, and then went to see the child.

I unfolded it slowly, and there was such a child that it was immediately clear that this was not a newborn or even a baby. There's another girl three years or four, the face is small and angry, and there are no arms or legs.

Oh mom, who is this? - the girl asked, and the mother says:

All babies are ugly at first. When your sister grows up, everything will be all right. Give it to me.

She took the baby in her arms and began to breastfeed. And that girl sucks her breasts, as if nothing had happened, and looks at the first girl cunningly and viciously.

And their names were Nastya and Olya, Olya is the one without arms and legs.

And this Olya herself ran and jumped very well, that is, she crawled very quickly, on her stomach. And she jumped on it, and she managed, like a caterpillar, to put herself upright and with her teeth, for example, to grab something and pull on herself. There was no rescue from her. She overturned, gnawed, spoiled everything, and her mother ordered Nastya to clean up after her, because Nastya was the eldest and also because her mother was now ill all the time, she was sick and even slept strangely, with her eyes open, as if she was just lying in a swoon. Now Nastya cooked for herself, and ate separately from her mother, because her mother had some kind of her own diet for nursing. Life has become absolutely disgusting. If Nastya didn’t eat and didn’t clean up after the dirty trick Olya, then her mother sent her either for firewood or to do her homework, and Nastya spent the whole day and the whole evening solving and solving problems and writing exercises, and she also taught all kinds of physics so as to retell everything, not stuttering over a single word. Mom did almost nothing, she fed Olya all the time or rested between feedings, because the nursing woman gets very tired, and everything was on Nastya, and Olya was washed too, and Olya writhed and laughed disgustingly, it was still a pleasure to wash her from poop. But Nastya endured everything for the sake of her mother.

So a month or two passed, and the winter only became colder, and everything around was covered in snowdrifts, and the light bulbs that hung in the rooms directly without chandeliers were blinking all the time and were very dim.

Suddenly, Nastya began to notice that someone was coming up to her at night and breathing over her face. At first she thought it was her mother, as before, looking to see if she was sleeping well and if the blanket had slipped, and then she looked through her eyelashes, and this was Olya standing by the bed and looking at her, and smiling so much that her heart was in her heels .

Then Olya noticed that Nastya was looking, and said in a disgusting voice:

Who asked you to watch when you don't have to? Now I will bite off your fingers. Finger per night. And then I'll eat my hands. And so my hands will grow.

And she immediately bit off Nastya's little finger on her hand, and blood poured out from there. Nastya lay as if in a daze, but she jumped up from the pain and screamed! But mom still sleeps, and Olya laughs and jumps.

Okay, - said Nastya. “I still can’t do anything with you.

And lay down as if to sleep. And even fell asleep.

And in the morning Olya crap one's pants again, and mother told Nastya to wash her. It’s good that there was still firewood in the house, because it was already impossible to reach the woodpile because of the snowdrifts, and also to the well, Nastya took water directly from the snow for a bath, scooped up snow with a bucket and warmed it up on the stove. The wound from the bitten off finger was very painful, but Nastya did not say anything to her mother. She took Olya and began to bathe her in a baby bath, which they found in the attic when they moved. Olya, as always, wriggles and giggles, and Nastya began to drown her. Then Olya parted, fought terribly, bit Nastya's hands, but Nastya drowned her anyway, and she stopped breathing, and then Nastya put her on the table and saw that her mother was still looking at the stove and did not notice anything. And then Nastya lost consciousness, because a lot of blood flowed from the bites.

During the night, the house was covered with snow so that the neighbor was frightened and called rescuers. They came and dug up the house, and found inside a girl in a swoon, with bitten hands, a dead mummified woman and a wooden doll without arms and legs.

Nastya was then sent to an orphanage for the deaf and dumb. She was actually mute, she spoke with her mother with her hands.

The girl who played the piano

One girl with her mother and father moved into a new apartment, very beautiful, large, with a hall, a kitchen, a bathroom, two bedrooms, and in the hall there was a German piano made of cherry wood. Do you know what polished cherrywood looks like? It is dark red and glistens like blood.

The piano was very necessary, because the girl went to learn to play the piano in the house of culture.
And on new apartment something strange happened to the girl. She began to play this piano at night, although she did not like it very much before. It played softly, but audibly.

At first, her parents did not scold her, they thought she would play enough and stop, but the girl did not stop.

They enter the hall, she is standing near the piano, she is playing notes on the piano, and she is looking at her parents. They scold her, she is silent.

Then they began to close the piano with a key.

But the girl does not understand how every night she still opened the piano and played it.

They began to shame her, punish her, but she still plays the piano at night.

They began to lock her bedroom. And she does not know how to get out and play again.

Then she was told that she would be sent to a boarding school. She cried and cried, they told her, give me an honest pioneer word that you won’t play anymore, but she is silent again. They sent me to boarding school.

And the next day, someone strangled her mom and dad at night.

They began to look for someone who could strangle them, asked the girl if she knew something. And then she told.
She didn't play the red piano. Every night she was woken up by flying white hands and told to flip notes while they played the piano. And she didn't tell anyone, because she was afraid and because no one would believe anyway.

Then the investigator says to her:

I believe you.

Because in this apartment used to live pianist. He was arrested for wanting to poison the government. When they were arrested, he began to ask that they not beat his hands, because he needed his hands to play the piano. Then one NKVD officer said that he would make sure that the NKVD did not touch his hands, took the shovel from the janitor and chopped off both hands. And from this the pianist died.

And this nkvdsheshnik was the girl's dad.

Wrong girl

In the class, a girl named Katya has a new teacher. He had evil eyes, but everyone praised him very much, because he spoke in a kind voice and because if a student did not obey him for a long time, then the teacher invited him to drink tea, and after tea the student became the most obedient child in the world and spoke only when asked. And already all the students in the girl's class became obedient, only the girl herself was still ordinary.

Once, the mother sent the girl to bring some purchases to the teacher home, which he asked to do. The girl came, the teacher sat her down to drink tea in the kitchen and said:

Sit quietly here and don't go to the basement.

And he took the purchases and went with them to the attic.

The girl drank tea, but the teacher does not come. She began to wander around the rooms, look at the photographs and paintings on the walls. She was walking over the stairs to the basement, and the ring that her grandmother gave her fell off her finger. The girl decided to quickly get off the ring and sit in the kitchen, as if nothing had happened.

She went down to the basement, looks around, and there are basins of blood all around. In some lies the intestines, in others the liver, in the third the brains, in the fourth - the eyes. And looks, after all, human eyes! She was frightened and how she would scream!

Then the teacher entered the basement with a large knife. looked and said:

You are a bad, worthless, wrong Katya.

He grabbed Katya's braids and cut them off.

From this hair I will make good, correct Kate's hair. And now I need your skin. I'll put the glass eyes in the right Katya, which your mother bought for me, but I need real skin.

And the knife raised again.

Katya began to run around the basement, and the teacher stands at the stairs and laughs:

There is no other way out of this basement, run and run until you fall, then it will become easier to peel off your skin.

Then the girl calmed down and decided to cheat. Went straight for him. It goes and everything is shaking, and suddenly nothing happens. And he will kill her and put her in basins, and an obedient doll will go home instead of her.

And the teacher laughs and shows the knife.

Then the girl suddenly tore off the beads from her neck, which her grandmother also gave, and how she threw the teacher in the face! Right in the eyes and in the mouth! The teacher recoiled, his eyes were filled with blood and did not see anything. He tried to throw himself at the girl, but the beads had already fallen to the floor, rolled away, he slipped on them and fell. And the girl jumped on his head with both feet, and he lost consciousness. And then she got out of the basement and ran to the police.

The teachers were then shot. In another city where he used to work, he replaced the whole school with walking dolls.

hungry doll

One girl with mom and dad moved into another apartment. And in the room, which is for children, there was a doll nailed to the wall with nails. Dad tried to pull out the nails, but he couldn't. Left it like that.

So the girl went to bed, and suddenly the doll moves its head, opens its eyes, looks at the girl and says in a terrible voice:

Give me some red food!

The girl was frightened, and the doll says it in a bass voice again and again.

Then the girl went to the kitchen, cut her finger, took a spoonful of blood, came and poured it into the doll's mouth. And the doll calmed down.

The next night it's the same again. And to the next one. So the girl gave her blood to the doll for a week and began to lose weight and turn pale.

And on the seventh day, the doll drank the blood and said in her terrible voice:

Listen, crazy, do you have any jam at home at all?

Stories told by Lilith Mazikina

Illustrations: Shutterstock