"Everyone has already heard about the village evil spirits. Brownies, kikimors, goblin, middays and ghouls - all these representatives of the non-human family seem to be annoying flies at noon, who decided to annoy the owner of the house a little. It is much worse when the evil spirits themselves, without the knowledge of the owner, enter the house and begins to rage and frighten all household members. They are the most arrogant ... and the most dangerous. "
1946 My great-grandfather, God rest his soul, lived in a village. Or rather, in the most often Siberian taiga. There was a period of recovery of the country from the consequences of the Second World War. Therefore, my great-grandfather did not get bored. From Novosibirsk, to the village, I traveled every day. And once, on a spring evening, my great-grandfather was sitting on the porch and smoking. He sat to himself, did not touch anyone, but then there was fuss in the bushes opposite. He looks closely, but nothing is visible, it is twilight on the street, and what can you see. He spat, finished smoking, and returned home. He comes in, and after him such a strong draft burst in that the hanging curtains on the stove almost twisted into a tube. Great-grandfather went nuts from such, even crossed himself, closed the door and stands on the threshold.
It is worth it, but somehow it became hard for yourself, as if someone had sat on your neck. And then the curtains on the stove would take off, how they would dance, as if someone intensely wants to rip them off. Great-grandfather was taken aback, he began to pray, he was baptized, and then, as someone yelled in bass from his bedroom.
- Go away!
My grandfather flew out of the house like a bullet, and to the former father in a direct move. The former father was a drunken, swollen muzzle. After the Bolsheviks plundered the church and dismantled it brick by brick, and kicked him out of the clergy, he earned a reputation as a drunkard. Pitiful fate. But he was still a priest.
Grandfather got to his house, let's bang on the door. The priest opened it for him and in a low voice asked what he supposedly needed. Grandfather described the situation to him, they say:
- I have devilry, father, kicked me out of the house, won't let me.
After looking at the grandfather for half a minute, the drunken priest hid behind the door, and a minute later he was upstairs with an icon and holy water. Grandfather was surprised, they say:
- Where did you get the icon from? They've all been torn apart! - The priest muttered something and went straight to the grandfather's house.
They approach his house, and outside they hear how something is being smashed, broken, thrown. They come in, and there is real bedlam. The stove was scratched, the furniture was shattered, the carpet on the wall hung from it in shreds, the doors were all wide open, the mirrors were beaten, the chandelier rested on the floor like a defeated beast. Seeing this, the grandfather turned pale, and this drunken priest began to bawl out a prayer, waving his brush, splashing every corner. What started here.
At first there was silence, and then the broken chair suddenly took off on its own and immediately rushed towards the priest. As if someone had thrown it. He jumped back and a chair right out the window. Glass fell down, some right on my grandfather. And the priest himself, with an imperturbable air, further bawls out a prayer and further sprinkles the corners. From the corridor they shouted in bass:
- You bastard is finished, what are you doing to me, shut your mouth brute!
And he reads further and sprinkles holy water. Then such a sigh was heard, as if someone was dying and the front door was knocked out, the wind rose and rushed to the exit. The drunken priest finished bawling and turned to his grandfather.
- Everyone, kicked out the evil spirits.
- Thank you, father, anything you want to ask!
- A bottle of moonshine - and in the calculation.
Then grandfather removed all the destruction that was the fault of this black force for a whole week. And damn it, after such a story, the last thing you want to be sure is that the other world does not exist. That's it. Thank you for attention.
Hello dear readers! I beg you to believe me! This strange mystical story happened to me in the summer of 2005.
My partner and I have a small shipping company. In order to save money, we do not hire a driver, but we deliver the goods ourselves on the GAZelle. The work is as easy as shelling pears: load a batch in the city, bring it to the specified place - basically, to private shops in all sorts of villages, unload and return to the base. There is a lot of work, we are spinning as best we can, sometimes we have to earn money until midnight. On one of these nights, this amazing incident happened to us.
We - my companion Gosha and I - were returning from a holiday village not far from Kstov. During the day, we were both tired, in a hurry to go home - so we decided to take a shortcut, which was by no means in our rules. We always passed by one of the villages along the ring road - we had to give a hefty detour, but we always made it. There was a legend among drivers that it is better not to drive past the old cemetery outside the village - it’s more expensive for yourself, and even more so at night. This is not a good place, any driver can tell you. We were never interested in what exactly it was bad, but we observed a long-standing driving tradition - we drove around the cemetery even in daylight. And here we decided to take a chance - to go past him after midnight.
In general, we are going. There is not a soul around, not a breeze, as they say, "silence, and the dead with braids stand." The cemetery is like a cemetery - old, with crooked crosses, it can be seen with the naked eye that no one has been buried here for a long time. It's terrifying in my heart, something is scratching. And suddenly we see - on the side of the road is a girl! Quite young, in a short mini-skirt, in a transparent blouse. She saw us and raised her hand to vote. And my companion was just driving, he is a single guy, avid for beauties, so take it and slow down. “We are in the car,” he says, “and it’s creepy, and how will she go home past such a place? You have to take it."
The girl climbed into our "gazelle" and let's twitter. Allegedly, she is going home from a disco, tired, exhausted, and here is our car. He sits next to me and chirps, and claps his eyes, and pouts his lips, but I feel uncomfortable. It smells somehow strange from a young girl sometimes - stinking, like from an old grave; and her eyes are not young - dark green, like water in an old well, cunning, unkind. Yes, and where did she come from - to the nearest club, where the youth gathers, fifty kilometers, no less. She didn’t go all this way in high-heeled shoes?! Painfully, the girl looks fresh. And no one from the locals will go through the cemetery.
Thinking so, I accidentally looked at the girl's reflections in the side mirror - and almost lost my mind. An old woman in a white shroud was sitting next to me: vile, half-decomposed, as if she had just crawled out of the grave! Only her eyes were the same: dark green, like swamp lights.
I screamed and pushed the girl out of the cab. Gosh almost lost his mind: “What are you doing ?!” - screams. And the girl hung on the doorknob like a bulldog, doesn't let go, stares at me with her green peepers and is silent. And suddenly I see - not just a girl hanging on a handle, but as if floating behind us through the air, and you won’t understand: either a person, or some kind of ghost. And a minute later the girl was gone: an old woman in a white shroud hangs next to me, reaches out to me, looks straight into my eyes, and neither I nor Gaucher can take my eyes off her. We are trying to scream, the voice is gone, Gosha is trying to add speed - his legs do not obey.
The car's headlights went out on their own. And so we go - with the door open, in the dark, and outside the windows on one side there is a forest, and on the other - old graves. The old woman reaches out to me, tries to grab my sweater, but I can’t move, I look into her eyes. Finally, I found the strength in myself: I hit the old woman on the fingers with a tire iron and slammed the door. Well, I think it passed. Nothing of the kind: the old woman hung outside our window for a long time, trying to make her look into her eyes again. And the worst thing is that there is no sound, even the night grasshoppers are silent, only the car engine growls.
There are many creepy ones, but when something happens to you, you experience it especially acutely. It's about that case. I never thought that an ordinary pet would make itself afraid.
Everything happened in my native Porfiryevka. It was evening, it was getting dark. My friends dispersed to their homes, and I went to the other end of the village to my friend. He had a computer, unlike me, on which you could play football or some kind of shooter. I went along our main street, which is a wide country road. There are quite a lot of houses here, but there are even more empty premises that remembered better times.
One of them was the church. For as long as I can remember, it has always been destroyed. Of course, young people did not gather there, unlike, for example, an abandoned house away or a closed store, but the locals calmly dragged away part of the building materials. Let it be a holy place, but we didn’t consider it a desecration here.
It was near this church that a terribly terrible story happened to me. When I came up with the building, I saw a goat trampling near it. I look and I can’t understand whose, I see for the first time, but the animal is painfully noticeable. He is all black as pitch, and his beard is white-white. A broken rope around his neck, apparently, he escaped from the leash.
I began to approach to take him by the rope. I think I'll bring it home, then whose parents will figure it out. Maybe we'll get something. And this goat is looking at me and as if his eyes are laughing. Only three steps will remain before him, he will jump aside and stand. I approach again. It seems that I’m already thinking I’ll grab it now, and the animal away.
We danced like that for five minutes. I see that they even moved away from the church deep into the wasteland. Then the goat began to flicker, only doing strange things, sort of giggling at the end. I suddenly got a headache from this sound, I have no strength. And he doesn't stop. Then he began to rush from place to place. My eyes can’t even keep up with him, he just stood on a stone, already near a branch.
Everything flashed before my eyes, swam. It’s dark around, I just remember that I hit my head painfully. And then back hurt. And everything fell into a fog.
I woke up when, in front of me, our uncle Igor is standing, a mechanic. My T-shirt was pulled up, my back hurts, I looked, and it was scratched. Uncle Igor helped me up, asked how I was, after which I heard a terrible story.
He was returning home. He got up to light a cigarette, right next to the church, and then it seemed to him that something was moving in the dark. Looked true. He got closer, looks - some man is dragging the body towards the forest. Uncle Igor called out to him, the stranger turned around. He is swarthy as hell, his hair is short and straight. The only thing is that the beard on the chin seemed to have faded - white as snow. This guy is standing, like he's thinking. Then the mechanic raised his stick and went in his direction. The stranger immediately threw the burden and how it explodes into the forest, only he saw him. And closer Uncle Igor came up, looks, I'm lying.
And so ended this terribly scary story. My parents and I did not understand what or who it was. And what did he want from me? Only a couple of days later, two more from our village saw that same goat. And all not far from the forest, as if he called them there. But that was already after my case, so they took care. And then the goat disappeared altogether. Who knows where he is now.
Hi all!!! I recently stumbled upon your site, give me, I think, I’ll throw off a couple of my stories ..
Story 1:
This incident was told to me by my mother, she was then 6-7 years old, they lived in the village, and one autumn evening they were sitting as a family, having dinner, suddenly they heard a knock on the door, somehow strange, because the yard was already locked, yes, and who will roam at such a time, the father asked:
"Who?" – in the answer only another knock. Well, what to do, my father took the poker and went to the door, just opened it, as two piglets burst into the house and began to rush along the hallway with a wild squeal, everyone was in shock, what kind of pigs, because there is only one big pig on the farm.
Meanwhile, the pigs rushed into the room, all behind them. What they saw shocked everyone - in the middle of the room, piglets stood nearby and silently looked at the icons hanging on the wall. After standing like this for about 10 seconds, the piglets rushed to the exit with a screech and disappeared in the doorway. The father of the family jumped out after them, but there was a deafening silence in the yard. The most interesting thing is that the guard dog, which reacted to every rustle, calmly lay in the booth. The owner quickly found some kind of stick, hewed out a stake and drove it in the middle of the yard, at that moment, as my mother says, she saw a spark run through the stake like electricity and smell of swaddled wool.
“Well, that’s it, I caught it,” said the father, “they’ll come running tomorrow!”
The next morning, the neighbors come running, the husband and wife, both red, steamed, he supposedly goes for nails, and she goes for salt. Everything became clear to everyone, but no one showed it, there were various rumors about this couple in the village for a long time. Nothing like this happened again.
Story 2:
My uncle (mother's brother) told this story, it happened in the same village, only a little later. Once they went with a friend for night fishing, they heard that the fish hides in the reeds at night and it is good to drag it with a net from there. Here they are, it means, along the reeds, waist-deep in water, pulling fry, when they suddenly hear - crackling in the reeds, well, they think the pike is no less than 5 kg, they quietly lowered the landing net into the water and let's hit the reeds with their feet, drive the prey . They hear something heavy hitting the net, they raise the landing net, but what they saw was far from being a fish. In the light of the moon, it seemed to them that it was a beaver, well, why do they need a beaver? They took him by the scruff of the neck and threw him further into the water. And this shaggy "something" sailed about ten meters and let's laugh with would-be fishermen. What can I say, the guys rushed, not feeling the ground under their feet until the very village, everyone abandoned both the landing net and the bag with prey. The uncle says that he remembered this piercing laugh for the rest of his life. They don't go to the river at night anymore.
These are the stories for your judgment, believe it or not.
My friend Lena and I were very fond of calling all kinds of evil spirits. Whom we just did not call: brownies, mermaids, spirits, but, being children, we did not see anything terrible in this. With each call of the "evil spirits", we waited for what would happen next, and our childhood fantasy made us afraid. And it seemed that with every second something unusual, mystical would happen. But every time nothing happened. And little by little it began to bore us.
But then one fine evening everything changed. It happened in February. On one of the winter days of this month, it turns out that it was impossible to summon evil spirits (I don’t remember which one exactly), because. on this day, all evil spirits roam our world. As always, not noticeable to people, but busy with something special on our Earth, if you disturb her, she will get very angry.
But Lena and I were not timid girls, and we obviously didn’t want to sit at home that day, when so many adventures were walking around you. She did not know about this day and I really wanted to tell her about it. I remember how my eyes burned then, how strongly my heart beat, I remember those emotions that overwhelmed and overwhelmed me all!
When a friend found out about this day, we, without thinking twice, began to look for something special that we could call, risking our own lives. Our choice was the Queen of Spades and Lucifer, but after reading the consequences that could await us, we changed our minds and decided to call the usual brownie.
We read a new way to call a brownie, went to her room, which was located on the second floor (she lived in a private house), and began to prepare. They spread a white tablecloth on the table, put gingerbread cookies there, when suddenly her younger sister Katya flew into the room. The girl just amazed us with her behavior. She sat down on the floor next to the table and started shouting something unintelligible (she was then 1.5 years old). We soon figured out what these words were: “Where is my porridge?”. She shouted it very loudly, began to hysteria and cry, while repeating these words all the time. Soon Lena's brother came (he was 8) and took the baby with him.
When everything calmed down, Lena plopped down on the sofa. She was kind of pale, I asked her: “What is wrong with you?”, To which she replied: “Katya has never had such tantrums, and the most amazing thing is that she can’t stand porridge, and only this The word already disgusts her. Especially since she is small, then how could she open the doorknob?”
Of course, we got a little creepy, because we knew that brownies were very fond of porridge and perhaps we should put some porridge on the table. But it was too late to think about it - it was time to start the ceremony. We held hands and as soon as our mouths opened, a light flickered in the room. Lena's house was new and of course the light bulbs were also new, and it was an ordinary winter evening outside. Lena yelled at her brother if he noticed the light flickering, but he said he didn't notice anything. She went downstairs to her parents, but they also said that there was nothing mystical.
Then we got really scared. We again returned to that room, but, having approached the table, we froze and turned pale: there was no plate with gingerbread. We already decided that it was her little sister who stole the sweets, and began to read the words, when suddenly a snowball crashed through the window. We looked out into the courtyard, but there was no one there ... After that, we did not dare to call evil spirits ...
