Lopatinsky forest

My grandfather (everyone just called him Grandpa Shurka) was a driver in an old broken—down car, either a GAZIKA or a UAZ - in general, everyone called this car a goat. The noise and screech from it would have been enough for an entire convoy, but Shurka's grandfather dearly loved his "goat" and strongly resisted its decommissioning. As a child, the greatest pleasure for me was to go somewhere with my grandfather on this very "goat" - for example, to take the mail, or something else. Shurka's grandfather took me with him willingly, telling me all sorts of stories along the way — about hunting, about fishing, about how he drove generals in the army. Listen to me!

One day, my grandfather was going to go, but he didn't invite me with him. I came to him with a grudge — what happened, why without me? It turned out that my grandfather was taking mail to Lopatino, so he didn't take fellow travelers. In the evening, you will have to return through the Lopatinsky forest, and there, as my grandfather put it, "it can be scary." Allegedly, my grandfather is afraid to damage me with those fears. And he was talking about everything so seriously, it's obvious he wasn't joking. I stuck to him — take it and take it. And suddenly he said: "I'll take it!" The only condition is that I hang a cross around my neck on the way bac day, my grandfather was going to go, but he didn't invite me with him. I came to hith a grudge — what happened, why without me? It turned out that myt for now.

Go. The road as a road is the same as all the roads in those places: a winding path between the trees. But Grandpa Shurka could drive! From the very beginning of the journey, I began to pester my grandfather: "Tell me, what kind of fears are there?" And my grandfather started telling me a story. However, sparing my childish ears, he omitted many details, but the essence was clear enough. Many years ago, somewhere near Lopatino, there lived a lady who was a natural witch who knew evil spirits. I can't count how many people I've lived with. She didn't do magic, but she harassed the peasants with her machinations as best she could. And she was rich, she had a lot of serfs — there was a place to turn around. And what was worse, she was having all the fun she wanted, which was getting more and more indecent. For example, he will gather young women, tell them to strip naked, and put a bag on their heads. And then he calls their husbands and grooms and tells them, without touching the women, to recognize their wife or bride in this form. I found out — get a woman and go home, and if someone made a mistake... Unidentified women were given away for the amusement of household slaves, or the lady took them to "make mistakes" with her. And be kind enough to part with it, otherwise you will get to the master's dogs, "for sin" with trained women.

As soon as such cases became known in St. Petersburg, a whole commission went to Lopatino. But she was too late — there was outrage among the people, the sadistic lady was taken to a remote forest and tied naked to a tree - not to move. Either the wolves will tear her apart, or she will starve to death. The commission, of course, went to that forest and found only scraps of rope. The lady disappeared: either she untied the ropes with her teeth and nails, or the devil helped. But since then, there has been a legend about a scary naked woman who attacks passers-by near the Lopatinsky forest and shouts: "Give me something! Give me a drink!" — eats unwary travelers and drinks their blood.

The story seemed interesting to me, but too old, because, judging by my grandfather's story, two hundred years have passed since then. In Lopatino, Shurka's grandfather handed over the mail, and we drove back. It was just getting dark, everything was calm, and suddenly Shurka's grandfather, who had been silent earlier, commanded: "Cross your neck!". I really didn't want to put on the cross, I was stubborn — and suddenly at that moment I heard a scream or a howl. The words were mostly unintelligible, but I could make out one thing clearly: "Give it to me!" I immediately put the cross around my neck, and immediately there was a noise from behind. I turned around and realized that the expression "hair stood on end" was not an exaggeration at all. Running behind the car was a naked woman, very thin, like a skeleton covered in skin. She was right next to us, banging on our rear window with her hand and shouting something all the time. I couldn't make out the words because of the goat's howl. Grandfather stepped on the gas, the car picked up speed, and the woman began to lag behind. "It's okay," my grandfather told me, "as long as we have a cross on us, she won't dare come near us." I was half dead with fear. We sat there in silence all the way until we got home. Grandfather, apparently, was used to such meetings: he behaved cheerfully and even looked slyly in my direction, and that night I had terrible nightmares.

However, I didn't stop loving trips with Grandpa Shurka because of this terrible hike. I accompanied him on the goat many more times, but I never went to Lopatinsky forest.