It was in 1993, when I was doing my army service in the Moscow region. It was June, but I somehow caught a cold and was successfully placed in the isolation ward of the local medical unit. The isolation ward consisted of two boxes: a large one for 10-12 people, and a small one for three. There was a bathroom between them. All these "apartments" began with a slamming door on a spring. The small box was located at the end of a small corridor and had two beds and a free-standing stretcher instead of a lounger. They put me on one of the beds, and I became the first patient in the isolation ward. There was no one else (even in the big box).
The first night passed quietly, and on the second night, this happened. I didn't sleep very well during my illness, and that night I woke up around one o'clock in the morning. It was a full moon— a huge round moon shone through my window without any interference, flooding the room with pale light. Suddenly, I heard the spring of the front door in the corridor of the isolation ward creak. I wondered who it could be, because there was no one else on the floor, the medical personnel were going to sleep in the barracks, and the paramedic on duty was sleeping on the second floor. Maybe someone went to the bathroom?
Footsteps sounded, passed by a large box and by a toilet. So someone was coming towards me. The door creaked. A female figure appeared on the threshold, went inside and stopped, looking around. The moon shone on her face, and I saw that she was a young woman with black hair. It seemed to me that there was some oriental blood in her features. I hadn't seen her in the medical unit before.
Looking at me, she asked me:
— You have an empty place in your room. Will you let me stay here?
Although I was surprised by this turn of events, I replied:
— Of course, please.
She didn't seem to hear me and repeated her question. I said:
— You can lie down in any available place.
Looking around once more, she suddenly began to wail:
— You have so much free space here! Let me rest!
She took another step, stopped at my feet and started crying. By the light of the moon, I saw some dark liquid dripping from her eyes instead of tears (it seemed to me that it was blood). At the same time, she began to slowly lean towards me. In wild horror, I abruptly turned my face to the wall and squeezed my eyes shut with all my might. The last thing I heard from her was a heavy sigh. The spring of my front door creaked again, I heard the rustle of retreating footsteps, the front door opened and closed. With my eyes closed, I lay for about an hour, listening for the slightest sounds.
The next morning, I found that the door of my box, which I had closed for the night, was ajar. I told the battalion medic about the incident. He sent me for examination to the psychiatric department of the hospital in Podolsk. When I returned from there, I found out that the isolation ward had been moved to another location. My colleagues told me that in my absence, one of the sick "spirits" was placed there, and on the third day he categorically refused to stay in the box overnight. Unfortunately, I was unable to talk to this soldier, as his unit had already been transferred to another location.
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