A barely perceptible movement outside the window caught my attention, and I involuntarily glanced in his direction.

Between the branches of the birch tree standing outside the window, moonlight oozed, which penetrated the room almost unhindered and laid down like a soft silver carpet. There was the howling of the wind, wandering through the deserted streets like a lonely dog, and the rustle of dry leaves, plucked from the branches of trees and flying away into the endless unknown. Everything would be fine, but something was really strange: a shadow fell right on the wall of the opposite house. Curved and thin, like a tree branch, but many times larger and longer.

I could not understand what I saw there, behind the bare woody fingers. My head was completely empty, but some unreasonable feeling of anxiety still tormented me. I understood that the shadows were nowhere to come from. For some reason, this did not frighten me, on the contrary, he reacted somehow skeptically and almost unemotionally, as if there was nothing unusual here.

I shifted my gaze to the interior of my room: a table lamp illuminating the workplace, a small bed with a green bedspread, a massive dark closet at the entrance to the room, and a couple of armchairs on which everyday clothes lay - everything seemed to be as usual. The room itself was lit only by the same table lamp, so it was completely dark outside of my little abode. The apartment was two-room, but I spent almost all the time only in this one - in a room with a large window that opens a wonderful view of the street and evokes some kind of childish feeling of power - to see everything and everyone.

Ten minutes later, I lay down on the bed with the hope of falling into the world of dreams. Being tired from the hectic everyday life, I could finally afford to rest. Thankfully, that's what the weekend is for. However, I couldn't sleep. Thinking about the strange shadow kindled my curiosity and thirst for answers. Strange, but the images with which I could compare this shadow did not come to mind at all. They seemed to be hidden in an endless maze of memories, and trying to find them was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The thought came to me: "Why not take a closer look at the shadow?"

There was no shadow.
I immediately rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't imagining it. There was only an empty reinforced concrete wall with a dozen dark windows. No shadows.
Deciding that this anomaly had originally appeared to me, I went to bed with restless thoughts - I didn’t have enough schizophrenia.

Suddenly there was a blow on the glass.
I immediately jumped out of bed and tried to look around. My head was spinning from the sudden rise, but I stayed on my feet. His heart jumped sharply in his chest and beat, as if seized by madness. The back of my head was warm, and my fingers and toes were numb.
The blow was repeated.
I sagged to the floor, refusing to believe what I saw.

Across the balcony door ran a black stripe that rose up and beat against the window with a dull thud. From the side it might seem that this is some kind of long stick. But can a stick have a living five at the end?

With a cry, I rushed into the next room - into the hall, hoping to wait out this nightmare. Her heart continued to beat furiously, causing a sharp pain to pierce her back. The body did not obey me at all - on the way I managed to hit the door frame and throw off my outer clothes in the hallway. The air refused to enter the lungs, I was on the verge of losing consciousness.

There was a sound of shards of a broken window. Coldness hit my legs, and the winter freshness penetrated into the apartment. I fell. I suddenly became calm. The ensuing silence, coldness and weakness in my whole body began to plunge me into a trance, creating some kind of home comfort. Although the surroundings still blew something crazy, I just wanted to lie down and fall asleep, spitting on all the problems and the situation in which I found myself.

The door to the hall was left wide open, and I distinctly heard soft slaps interrupted by hoarse breathing. I don't know why, but I suddenly laughed. The mind, refusing to realize the wrongness of what was happening, slowly left me.

There was no light, only the glow of the moon, faintly illuminating the hall.
Something appeared around the corner of the doorway. I don't know how to describe it: pitch-black skin covered the entire muzzle - there were no eyes, no nose. The mouth was a wide strip, almost completely dissecting the head horizontally. The head swayed from side to side, bent like plasticine. I don't know how, but it looked at me. I felt a piercing gaze, studying or rather waiting for something. Yes, it was clearly waiting for something.

Every cell in my body screamed of danger from the creature. My mind was painting pictures of something taking off abruptly and crawling towards my face. And the creature continued to wait. Apparently wanted to see my futile attempts to escape.

My body was numb, I could not even bend a finger. The soul was filled with a feeling of endless loneliness and detachment from the surrounding world, a feeling similar to falling into the void.

Suddenly, a limb extended from behind the doorway. Disproportionately long, with an ugly five at the end, it bent in three places and felt the floor a meter from my face. This is where I got zapped. This irregular and monstrously long limb ignited in the depths of my mind the lost desire for life. With a wild cry, I got up from the floor and rushed towards the window. And then - only falling down.

I survived. I don't even know if I should be happy or sorry? Now the feeling of fear does not leave me for a second. People started treating me like I was paranoid, but I don't blame them. Remaining in the dark, waves of animal horror and expectation roll over me. Expectations for what? - you ask. I know it will come back, I'm sure of it. Because last night I was sitting outside admiring the night sky covered in stars like a beaded tablecloth. And I admired this until I saw a spider-like body slowly crawling along the wall of my high-rise building ...

10 short but very scary bedtime stories

If you need to work at night and coffee is no longer working, read these stories. Cheer up. Brrr.

faces in portraits

One person got lost in the forest. He wandered for a long time and, in the end, at dusk came across a hut. There was no one inside, and he decided to go to bed. But he could not fall asleep for a long time, because portraits of some people hung on the walls, and it seemed to him that they were looking at him ominously. He eventually fell asleep from exhaustion. In the morning he was awakened by bright sunlight. There were no pictures on the walls. They were windows.

Count to five

One winter, four students from a mountaineering club get lost in the mountains and are caught in a snowstorm. They managed to get to an abandoned and empty house. There was nothing in it to keep warm, and the guys realized that they would freeze if they fell asleep in this place. One of them suggested this. Everyone stands in a corner of the room. First, one runs to the other, pushes him, he runs to the third, and so on. So they will not fall asleep, and the movement will warm them. Until the morning they ran along the walls, and in the morning they were found by rescuers. When the students later spoke of their salvation, someone asked, “If there is one person in each corner, then when the fourth reaches the corner, there should be no one there. Why didn't you stop then?" The four looked at each other in horror. No, they never stopped.

Damaged film

One girl-photographer decided to spend the day and night alone, in the deep forest. She was not afraid, because it was not the first time she went hiking. All day she photographed trees and grasses with a film camera, and in the evening she settled down to sleep in her small tent. The night passed quietly, the horror overtook her only a few days later. All four reels produced excellent shots, except for the last frame. All the photographs showed her sleeping peacefully in her tent in the darkness of the night.

call from babysitter

Somehow, a married couple decided to go to the cinema, and leave the children with a babtsitter. They put the children to bed, so the young woman just had to stay at home just in case. Soon the girl became bored, and she decided to watch TV. She called her parents and asked them for permission to turn on the TV. Naturally, they agreed, but she had one more request… she asked if she could cover the statue of an angel outside the window with something, because it made her nervous. For a second, the phone went silent, and then the father, who spoke to the girl, said: “Take the children and run out of the house ... we will call the police. We don't have a statue of an angel." The police found everyone at home dead. The statue of the angel was never found.

Who's there?

About five years ago, late at night, there were 4 short calls at my door. I woke up, got angry and did not open it: I did not expect anyone. On the second night someone called again 4 times. I looked out the peephole, but there was no one behind the door. During the day I told this story, and joked that, perhaps, death had the wrong door. On the third evening, a friend came to see me and stayed up late. The doorbell rang again, but I pretended not to notice anything to check if I was hallucinating. But he heard everything perfectly and, after my story, exclaimed: “Let's deal with these jokers!” and ran out into the yard. That night I saw him for the last time. No, he didn't disappear. But on the way home, he was beaten by a drunken company, and he died in the hospital. The calls have stopped. I remembered this story because last night I heard three short knocks at the door.

Twin

My girlfriend wrote today that she did not know that I have such a charming brother, and even a twin! It turns out that she had just stopped by my house, not knowing that I was late at work until the night, and he met her there. He introduced himself, offered me coffee, told some funny stories from his childhood and walked him to the elevator.

I don't even know how to tell her that I don't have a brother.

raw mist

It was in the mountains of Kyrgyzstan. The climbers set up camp near a small mountain lake. Around midnight, everyone wanted to sleep. Suddenly, a noise was heard from the side of the lake: either crying, or laughter. Friends (there were five of them) decided to check what was the matter. They did not find anything near the shore, but they saw a strange fog in which white lights shone. The guys went to the lights. We took only a couple of steps towards the lake ... And then one of the last ones noticed that he was knee-deep in icy water! He jerked the two closest to him, they came to their senses and climbed out of the fog. But the two that went ahead disappeared into the fog and water. It was impossible to find them in the cold, in the dark. In the early morning, the survivors hurried for the rescuers. They didn't find anyone. And by evening, those two who had just plunged into the fog died.

Photo of a girl

One high school student was bored at the lesson and looked out the window. On the grass, he saw a photograph thrown by someone. He went out into the yard and picked up a picture: it turned out to be a very beautiful girl. She was wearing a dress, red shoes, and she showed a V sign with her hand. The guy began to ask everyone if they had seen this girl. But no one knew her. In the evening, he put the photo near the bed, and at night he was awakened by a quiet sound, as if someone was scratching at the glass. A woman's laughter echoed in the darkness outside the window. The boy left the house and began to look for the source of the voice. He quickly moved away, and the guy did not notice how, hurrying after him, he ran out onto the roadway. He was hit by a car. The driver jumped out of the car and tried to save the victim, but it was too late. And then the man noticed on the ground a photograph of a beautiful girl. She was wearing a dress, red shoes and she was showing three fingers.

Grandma Martha

This story was told to the granddaughter by the grandfather. As a child, he ended up with his brothers and sisters in the village, which was approached by the Germans. The adults decided to hide the children in the forest, in the forester's house. We agreed that Baba Martha would bring food to them. But it was strictly forbidden to return to the village. So the children lived through May and June. Every morning Martha left food in the barn. At first, the parents also ran, but then they stopped. The children looked at Marfa through the window, she turned and silently, sadly looked at them and baptized the house. One day two men came up to the house and called the children with them. They were partisans. The children learned from them that their village had been burned down a month ago. Baba Marfa was also killed.

Do not open the door!

The twelve-year-old girl lived with her father. They had a great relationship. One day, my father was going to stay late at work and said that he would return late at night. The girl waited for him, waited, and finally went to bed. She had a strange dream: her father was standing on the other side of a busy highway and was shouting something to her. She barely heard the words, "Don't... open... the door." And then the girl woke up from the call. She jumped out of bed, ran to the door, looked through the peephole and saw her father's face. The girl was about to open the lock, as she remembered the dream. And the father's face was somehow strange. She stopped. The bell rang again.
- Dad?
Ding, ding, ding.
- Dad, answer me!
Ding, ding, ding.
- Is there someone with you?
Ding, ding, ding.
- Dad, why aren't you answering? The girl almost cried.
Ding, ding, ding.
- I won't open the door until you answer me!
The doorbell rang and rang, but my father was silent. The girl sat huddled in the corner of the hallway. This went on for about an hour, then the girl fell into oblivion. At dawn, she woke up and realized that the doorbell was no longer ringing. She crept up to the door and looked through the peephole again. Her father was still standing there, looking straight at her. The girl cautiously opened the door and screamed. Her father's severed head was nailed to the door at eye level.
Attached to the doorbell was a note with only two words: "Smart girl."

My name is Masha and I am 26 years old. I work in an office in the city. I love to escape from everyone, from the noise and go on a journey into the bosom of nature. Fortunately, I have a house in the village, which is located right on the edge of the forest. How I love to get out of the city and spend the weekend in my little house.

The case was last summer. After a hard week at work, I needed to relax, so I decided to leave the city once again. I packed my things, got into the car and drove off. When I arrived in the village, it was already evening and I was tired from the long drive. I went up to the second floor to the bedroom, immediately went to bed and instantly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of a car alarm. I looked out the window, but there was no one there. In complete darkness, I fumbled for the keys to the car, pressed the button to turn off the alarm. When the noise stopped, I lay back down and tried to sleep. Suddenly, the alarm went off again. I didn't feel like getting up, so I just grabbed my keys and pressed the button again.

Five minutes later, the alarm went off for the third time. Once or twice it might have been an accident, but now I was wondering what was going on. Can someone play with me at night? I reluctantly got up and pressed the button to turn off the siren, but this time I decided to observe what was happening. I hid at the window and began to peer into the darkness of the village night.

A few minutes later, I saw something by the light of the moon. The shadows of the bushes appeared and slowly began to move towards the car. The shadow suddenly took shape. It was something tall and skinny and black. The figure reached out with its slender arms and slammed into the car. The alarm went off and immediately the figure quickly dived back into the bush.

At that moment, I did not understand what was happening, and began to tremble with fear. Because I kept watching and turned off the alarm. Something came out of the bush again and silently slid to the gate, stuck a long arm through the fence of them and closed the latch that holds the gate. I was trapped. Thousands of thoughts raced through my head and I began to panic.

What was it? What does he want from me? What will it do next?

A shiver ran through me from the top of my head to my toes. My heart was beating like crazy. I clenched my teeth and was afraid to breathe.

After a while I came to my senses and ran down the stairs as fast as I could. I had to find something to protect myself. However, before I tried to fumble for the switch and turn on the light, my eyes fell on the window and what I saw made me freeze in place in horror.

A black figure stood at the window. Her face was leaning against the glass as she looked around the room to see if anyone was home. I ducked like a rock down behind the sofa and cautiously peered out. And then I realized that all these alarm tricks were needed in order to lure me out.

I couldn't take my eyes off the ugly face. The skin was ash-colored and covered with wrinkles and folds. The eyes were small as buttons and completely black. A hole instead of a nose. There were no lips on the face, only two rows of sharp, yellow teeth. His breathing was so heavy and hoarse that the outside of the window was fogged up.

I just knew it wasn't going to go away. After standing at the window for a few minutes, I heard a rustle, and realized that it had come to the front door. I watched as it tried to slip its fingers through the gap under the door. The handle began to jerk up and down. And then the creature made a chilling sound... it didn't sound like a voice. It was the vile, vicious sound with which an angry dog ​​tears apart a bone.

I knew that if it heard me, it would look for a way to get into the house. I just hid behind the couch, in the shade, and desperately tried not to make a sound. Tears started streaming down my face no matter how much I tried to stop them. I could hear my own pulse, I was trembling like an aspen leaf and just praying that this would end.

I don't know how long I sat there cringing. I must have passed out. When I woke up and looked at the door, the creature was gone. The door was still in place and everything seemed to be gone. I have never been so glad in my life. I ran to the second floor and looked out the window. It was already light outside, and there was no sign of the strange monster.

I realized that this was my chance for salvation, I grabbed the keys and, without stopping to collect my things, ran to the car. I jumped in, locked the doors, and kicked the gas in order to get out of the village as quickly as possible. On the way, I never stopped until I reached the city.

When I returned to my apartment, I turned on the radio and the news announcer said that in the village, near my house, the bodies of two girls were found that night. They were mutilated and thrown into the swamp. I assume the creature found what it was looking for...

mystical creatures are real stories about mystical creatures from the lives of our readers. Scary stories of people who saw with their own eyes different mythical creatures.

Throughout history, people have believed and written about countless mystical beings. Legendary monsters and supernatural monsters. Do they even exist? Or is this someone's fiction or the harm of a sick fantasy?! We think that mystical beings exist. Because they themselves read thousands of stories and evidence of their real existence.

Our world is not so harmless. After all, somewhere out there, in the dark, in forests isolated from the eyes and in the deep bowels of reservoirs, mysterious mystical creatures live. They appear suddenly and just as suddenly disappear. Frightened bystanders are dumbfounded and bewildered. But there are eyewitnesses who saw them with their own eyes. And some even managed to film or photograph. Let some creatures be more incredible than others, but it is up to everyone to decide whether they really exist ... .

In some cases, they act in relation to humans as pests. But sometimes they provide us with invaluable services. They are not a myth, but the same reality as ourselves. If we do not see them, it only means that we do not see them yet. But the meeting can happen at any moment. You have to be ready for it.
There are thousands of examples of human contact with intelligent life forms of unknown origin. Colloquially referred to as "evil spirits" or mystical creatures.

mystical creatures These are eyewitness accounts. Those who were lucky enough to see with their own eyes mystical creatures that were considered fabulous. Stories of encounters with giant kites and flying people. Giants, brownies, mermaids and many other amazing creatures. It turns out that these creatures are found not only in fairy tales, legends, books and films. They really exist!

Goblin hides in impenetrable thickets, swampy swamps are the abode of kikimor. And mermaids are splashing in the reservoirs, which can easily drag a gaping swimmer to the bottom. River, lake and sea monsters are also not a myth - these stories are proof.

Scientists have been arguing for decades about whether Bigfoot exists. The authors of these stories do not doubt it. After all, some of them personally saw the mysterious Yeti or traces of his stay.

We are accustomed to refer to them as heroes of myths and legends, and see them only in films. And few people know that these fantastic creatures are not at all the fruit of human imagination. They really exist. It's just that they are very rarely seen by humans. And yet such meetings do occur from time to time. And the proof of that is in these stories.

mystical creatures are also legends about mythical creatures. Myths and legends about fabulous and mythological creatures of our planet.
The articles in this column, about mysterious and rare creatures, will not only help you better understand the mysteries of nature, but also expand your consciousness, which is too busy with its own existence.

Strange mythological and folklore animals. Half people, half beasts, bird people and snake people, spirits of all earthly elements. They help us learn more about the ancient roots of humanity. So, better understand yourself and your own path.

Life stories Legends Myths Horror stories

All about mystical creatures

Author: Eldar Seidaliev
The sky was cloudy and predicted rain. As if reflected from the asphalt, it was gray all the way to the horizon. I rode in an old, half-empty bus between decrepit, wooden houses and bare, dry trees, past forgotten, lonely bus stops and dead factories. Along a curved, broken road, teeming with cracks and pits, on which the wheels of the bus so often fell and shook it so that it seemed to me that it was about to fall apart. There was an unbearable smell of alcohol and urine in the cabin. The culprits of these stench were two men sitting opposite. Dressed in shabby and already torn rags, they followed the dull landscape outside the window with lifeless faces and dull eyes. A couple of times I made an effort to move to another seat, but the obsessive thought that this might somehow offend them kept me. A prisoner of my indecision, I often turned my head back to breathe in clean air, but I stumbled upon a twisted old woman with a large gray bag of pies, which, due to strong shaking, fell on dirty seats or rolled under her crooked legs. Raising with nervous movements something that looked like a grubby kolobok, she blew on them a couple of times, wiping them on the edge of her black jacket, and put them back in her bag. The overall picture made me unbearably sad. Neither the music on my record player, nor the thoughts of good things could dispel my sadness or erase this disgusting reality. And something ominous began to envelop me - and my heart sank, and my body went limp, as if an invisible shell was put on it, under the weight of which I bent and began to feel deeply depressed and broken. At that moment, the spire of a familiar chapel appeared in the distance, which (I believed) was one of the main causes of my mental illness. Putting my hand in my pocket, I felt the chill of the coins, which I counted out to the driver in disgust. Rain is coming. And ahead was a long way to the chapel through a wasteland. A narrow, inconspicuous path led to it. There were no roads or signs, but this place was known to everyone in the town. For local residents, it caused the most unpleasant sensations and painful memories. Many bypassed it and did not appear here for no reason. But sooner or later they came: some of their own free will - others under duress, some for a time - others forever. I also hated him and (as hard as it was to admit) was afraid. But it so happened by fate that I was here every day. There were no trees or plants in the wasteland. But the "vacant lot" was not like that at all: a path through the dunes of household garbage and building materials, leading to the old cemetery where I worked. And now I quickened my pace and wrapped my cloak around myself better, as the cold began to pierce me inside and out: was it due to nerves or bad weather (hell!) - I don’t know. Many tales were told about this wasteland, but I did not believe in them ... except for one. The wasteland was supposed to become a recreation center - and all the preliminary preparations were made. But when construction began - for some unknown reason - it was curtailed after several months of work. Maybe the financier, having learned better about the gloomy climate of this area, decided that this is not the best place for a camp site? But the fact remains: there were many assumptions, but the true reason for the escape of the builders from the wasteland remained a mystery to this day. I walked and looked at the huge gray slabs - the very building materials that remained as a memory from the unfinished construction. Large, cold, gray slabs - they reminded me of stone coffins in which giants could be buried. And around is an endless dump of scraps of old clothes, torn books, broken strollers, rocking chairs, bare tires, bent sofas, rusty pipes and washbasins. Along the way, I just as often came across disabled dolls, cars without wheels, tattered stuffed bears and rattles lying lifeless on the stony hills. Passing by, I was flooded with a flood of those childhood memories and impressions that made me feel uncomfortable. Cold sweat began to break out on my forehead. Since childhood, I have been squeamish and wary of dolls. It was my phobia and, accordingly, a big secret in the society of people. And now, looking at all this abandoned utensils, I suppose that the main difference between things and people is that they must belong to someone in order to have some value; on the other hand, a person who belongs to someone loses his freedom. But isn't freedom the main value for him? People, like these things, become rejected and unnecessary. These toys, buried alive, seemed to beg me to come and give them some of the attention that they were once surrounded by. But I walked - and walked only forward, accelerating my steps, and at one moment I suddenly realized that I was already running. The headwind tore off my scarf and carried it towards the garbage hills. This scarf was my mother's last gift and meant so much more to me than just a piece of wool. I stopped, but it took me quite a bit of time to gather all my will into a fist and return for him. And the clouds continued to cry on my head. To my dismay, the scarf was nowhere to be found, which meant I would have to climb all the hills to find it. In order to broaden my horizons, I chose the highest hill of broken toys. I'm sure it will be easier to find him from there. Stumbling and falling, getting up and again crushing the heads of the dolls, I climbed this hill; and he all crumbled until the moment until he plunged into it to the waist. Suddenly I felt a terrible pain in my leg. Something pierced her and pierced right through. Terrified, I started calling for help. But even if someone was passing, it is unlikely that he could hear me, because I moved fifty meters away from the path, and the loud noise of rain deafened everything around. I made a couple of efforts to break out of captivity and get out myself, but nothing worked - and (as it seemed to me) with every movement I sank more and more into this dump. Pain and fear made me feel sick - and I lost consciousness. I do not know how much time has passed, but when I woke up, it was dark and damp around. Apparently, I fell right into the center of this hill, and the daylight did not come here well. And from all corners, water flowed on me so that it became difficult to breathe, and I again began to call for help. When I was already hoarse and even internally ceased to understand myself, I stopped and began to cry. He cried, but in his head he scrolled through all the possible options for his death. If anyone passes along the path, it will be either relatives carrying a coffin to the cemetery, or undertakers returning or going to work. The third option could be a garbage truck that comes here once a week to further increase the garbage capital. She will just bury me alive - and no one will even know about my death until the smell of my decaying body becomes so unbearable that someone will probably call the police if they do not already mistake a stray dog ​​for the corpse. The beat of my heart became distinct and echoed in my ears. Now any movement brought me so much torment that I gave up all attempts to get out of here on my own. I was completely chilled and started to freeze. I began to be drawn to sleep. To the very dream from which you can not wake up. How many hours did I spend here? Having no concept of time, I mentally began to say goodbye to everyone I loved. And the list of these people miraculously turned out to be more than I expected. Clinging to pleasant memories, he did not even notice how he fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, then (to my surprise) I realized that I had not died. But I woke up from the fact that a stream was already pouring on me from the upper rows of a toy dump and the body of a children's dump truck was an excellent drowning agent. I realized that if I didn’t die from hypothermia, I would simply choke in the water. Apparently, I fell into a circular plate with a large diameter. Feeling one side of it, it seemed to me oval. Resigned to this seemingly irreconcilable fact, I began to try to find something with my hands. It seemed that in some miraculous way she could help me. Touching and trying to snatch something from the garbage, which tightly squeezed me from all sides, I suddenly distinctly heard the phrase “My life for you”. A chilling spark ran through his entire body. When the fear gradually began to recede, I began to listen. Only the sound of rain - and nothing, no other similar sounds. Perhaps these are auditory hallucinations, because it is quite possible that I happened to spend more than one day in these catacombs. I again tried to call for help, but, apparently, my voice was already strained, and the heat in my body indicated that I was sick. And most likely angina. Even if a person passes within five meters from this place, he still will not hear me. Quite a lot of time has passed. The sound of rain has stopped. It was clear that I did not have long. Only now I realized that all this time I was losing blood: my leg was pierced deeply and seriously, and I didn’t feel it at all. I went into rather gloomy reflections, trying to be ironic that the gravedigger was buried alive in a pile of toys. Isn't that the irony of fate? I have always carefully and diligently dug graves for people, knowing that they have been constantly deceived by butchers, repairers, tax offices, doctors and policemen throughout their long or short life. And therefore, the last service was mine: to dig a hole deep and wide enough so that at least in the last business in this world everything would be honest and beautiful. And I always did this in good conscience, but partly because I didn’t want the souls of the dead to visit me later and rush to the next world. From these thoughts I was distracted by a child's voice, which seemed to come from another world. Then another voice was heard less distinctly: a masculine and hoarse one, such a voice is either among retired colonels, or among boatswains on a ship.
— Jessica! Stop! Don't go there!
But the children's laughter became more and more distinct. I understood that the child behaves as usual, does not obey. The voice was very close and then I realized that this was my last chance to break out of this crypt, and I would not have another like this. I began to scream, but my vocal cords were inflamed - and no sound or lowing was produced anymore. Then, in a panic, he began to beat on the walls with his fists, when he suddenly heard the word “My life for you” again. I stretched my body as far as I could, and began to grope for this object. He continued to beat in the direction from which the sound came: the same word over and over again "My life for you". The last thing I heard was a child's cry:
- Grandpa, there is someone there!
… I opened my eyes in a white chamber. They put a cast on my leg and pierced my hands with droppers. On the table, next to a vase of dried flowers, sat a red-haired doll with big blue eyes in a pink dress and one shoe. There was a familiar sound coming from her. And only in the sleepy silence of the hospital ward did I understand the words of a dead battery: “I love you!”.