Monday, November 10, 2025

Intensive care

 I work in the intensive care unit of an infectious diseases hospital, where strange things happen almost every night. Since we have almost all hopeless patients who are living out their last hours and days, we cannot sleep at night, and we often have to declare death.

Maybe someone knows that in intensive care all patients are tied to the bed, because during the illness many do not control their actions, they can get up and piss on the devices, and some come across violent, rush at the medical staff.

So, on June 23 of this year, as usual, I went on duty (I am an infectious diseases doctor). I remember looking at the time — it was 18 o'clock, and I went to make my rounds. I looked at all of them, and it turned out that one ward was empty. I asked the girls nurses to wash it, turn on the quartz lamp and close it. I went to the resident's office myself to fill out medical records.

At 00:30, I had to go to the bathroom, I pass by an empty ward (we have windows instead of walls so that patients can be seen) and I see a girl tied to a bed, undressed, everything is as it should be, and she looks at me. It happens that patients in our intensive care unit regain consciousness.

I was surprised how it was, they admitted a patient and didn't tell me anything. Well, I think I'll check her out, then I'll go fuck the girls. I walk in, the door is open, the lamp is on, well, I think the girls have overworked it. I go up to her and say:

— Did you join us today?

She to me:

- no.

I think they've let someone down from the department (the intensive care unit is in the basement). I say:

— Now I'm going to examine you and ask you a few questions, do you mind?

- no.

"That's good.

I put on my gloves. I look at my eyes, and the pupil covers the entire iris. It happens after some medications. And she looks at me like that:

"Are you new here?"

I think he asks strange questions, but I answer them myself.:

— I've been working for six months.

"I haven't seen you here."

I was totally stunned. I examined her, the liver is enlarged, the skin is jaundiced. Hepatitis. I'll go, I think, I'll go to the nurses, I'll give a damn, and at the same time I'll take a medical history. I came out of the room, looked around, and she was looking at me with a kind of scary look from under her brows.

I go into the nurses' room, the girls are drinking tea. I say:

— Well, you brought the patient, but you didn't tell me anything.

They say:

"Which patient?" No one was brought to us.

I'm scared, I say:

"Let's go take a look."

We arrive, and it's empty, the door is closed.

They to me:

— What a joke you have, Alexander Romanovich.

I'm not in the mood for jokes. I went to the nursing room with them and didn't come out until morning. And in the morning the manager came, I went to him.:

— Pyotr Alexandrovich, a similar incident happened to me today.

And I told him everything. And he told me:

"You're not the first one to see her." Five years ago, a girl died in terrible agony in this ward. There was nothing we could do to help her. Since then, she has been coming to this ward every year.

I'm standing there in shock.

"It's okay," he says, "she's not the only one." There are more of them, and you'll get to know them again.



Sunday, November 9, 2025

Revenge of the orphan

My cousin Sveta got married twenty years ago to a military college cadet. Accordingly, I spent five years with him in all the garrisons before returning back to Moscow. At that time, they lived somewhere far away in Siberia, in a military dormitory, and there was an orphanage across the street from the dormitory. Svetka is very good, compassionate, loves children, and she became attached to an orphan girl. Actually, the girl was not a complete orphan — she formally had a grandmother, but she renounced all rights to her granddaughter and handed her over to an orphanage herself. The girl's name was Nadia, and she was about five years old. At that time, Svetka had a son, but she took care of both children equally. She agreed with the orphanage administration that the girl would stay with her. And they are only happy: a woman with a cart is easier for a mare. The orphans were compensated by the state. As it is, Nadia was unofficially adopted, and the money for her continues to flow into the orphanage account...

In general, Sveta lived with her husband and children in Omutninsk for five years, and it was time to return home. Nadia, of course, was taken with them. Sveta's husband, Zhenya, has already taken up Nadia's official adoption. And it had to happen that already in Moscow, at the last stage of applying for adoption, Nadia was caught stealing from the already meager family treasury. What are the salaries of the military? A scandal broke out with tears and screams, and the question arose of sending Nadia back home. Like, if a girl steals from people who tear off the last piece of themselves for her, then what happens next? My light is in tears. He screams: "Let's forgive for the first time? A child, after all! You're still stupid!" But Zhenya firmly said that he did not want to take any chances. And he sent the girl back to Omutninsk... Svetka later told with tears how she stood on the platform of the station, and Nadia shouted through the window: "Mommy, forgive me!". Svetka was terribly worried. I cried for a long time. I couldn't forgive Eugene.

And then years passed, a second son was born, and everything gradually faded away. But with the birth of the youngest Danka in the family, Svetka began to have problems and troubles. The eldest son, Seryozha, kept breaking his arms and legs, and had three concussions in six months... Like a ten—year-old boy, it's clear that there will be bruises and bumps and fractures, but not in the same amount, and everything is almost out of the blue. The youngest child, as they brought him from the hospital, did not get off the sick leave.: sometimes it's a terrible allergy, sometimes it's asthma (it's a month-old baby), or something worse... Eugene's back began to torment him. The doctor said it was an intervertebral hernia. The family discord has begun. Sometimes in ten years there hasn't been a single major quarrel, except for that incident with Nadia, then every day there is a squabble until the divorce. There was no face on Svetka. I haven't been to work for weeks: the children are sick, and there's no one to leave them with. At that time, Svetka worked as a cashier at the Arbat Prestige store. Her colleagues began to look at her suspiciously: there was a beautiful ruddy-cheeked girl with her husband, a major, and now there is only one shadow left. And now a colleague comes up to her (by the way, Svetka didn't have any friends at work. So, hello, goodbye) and says: "Sveta, I don't know what happened there, but I'll give you a tip: go to your grandmother alone. Don't interrupt, let me tell you everything. This is in the Tambov region, you need to go there for at least a week. And the whole family. I come from there myself, and I have an old apartment there. I'll give you the keys, but you'll need to live somewhere. Anyway, think about it." Svetka waved it off, and in the evening, for some reason, she told Eugene about the conversation.

Eugene just needs to know before approaching him with this kind of conversation: a hefty mustachioed man, a major in the Presidential courier service, the devil himself is not a brother to such a man. I've seen things in my life that a healthy brain can't handle. But Zhenya doesn't care. And for talking about money, you could easily get a two-hour lecture from Eugene about the dangers of drugs. But then a strange thing happened — Eugene listened to his wife and said: "I'll take a week off, let's go to Grandma's." There's a light and a fall, like winter crops. But let's go.

We arrived, settled into the apartment of Svetka's colleague, and the next day went to that grandmother. A colleague warned me that I had to walk to my grandmother. No cars, buses, or even bicycles. Only on foot, like pilgrims. Their grandmother wouldn't let them go beyond the threshold. She said, "Are the children unbaptized? And if they're baptized, why don't they have crosses? Go to the church, buy them the simplest crosses and come back." The church was in the same village, not far away, so they went there and bought the children simple crosses on a consecrated string. We put them on and went back to Grandma. The eldest son walked by himself, and Svetka carried the youngest in her arms. And then, about a hundred meters from his grandmother's house, junior suddenly began to scream in Svetka's arms, squirm and scratch his neck. Svetka turned back her collar, and there were blisters on the spot where the baby's cross rope ran, as if from burns. Svetka's hair stands on end. Eugene is also pale, but he tries to keep calm. He took the child from Svetka and went to his grandmother's house. With each step, the child screamed louder, and his entire neck was already covered with blisters. Svetka even rushed to take off the cross, but Eugene wouldn't let her.

This time, the grandmother let everyone in, read prayers, mumbled, fumbled, the child calmed down, and she let everyone go home, instructing them to come to her tomorrow.

The guys went to see their grandmother for almost a week. She said prayers every time, but nothing else out of the ordinary happened.

On the seventh day, they came to her for the last time. Everything was as usual: grandma was saying prayers, Svetka was sitting in front of grandma with the baby in her arms, and Eugene was standing outside. For some reason, his grandmother scolded him separately. Seryozha was sitting by the window and looking out. I can't tell you any more in my own words, I'm telling you in my own words.:

"Grandma is reading something, I almost fell asleep on a chair, and then I hear laughter. It gives me the creeps. People don't laugh like that. It's disgusting, disgusting, and completely un-human. I've lost my sleep, goosebumps, and I start looking around until it dawns on me that it's my son Seryozha laughing! He was just sitting there, with his back to me, facing the window, and laughing terribly. That laugh made my hair stand on end. Then Grandma turns to Seryozha, looks at his back, then turns to me and says, "Ugh on you! I didn't see your boy right away! If I had seen it right away, I would never have contacted you!" Then she goes up to Serezha, puts her hand on his head and asks, "What's your name?" Seryozha turns around, and then, sorry for the details, I naturally made a puddle: it wasn't my son! His face was blue, his eyes were completely rolled back under his forehead, and only the whites were visible, his mouth was bared, his teeth were out, drool was dripping from them, and he was laughing... Then I screamed. And grandma's going to yell at me.: "Get out! Get out! Call your father!" I grab Danila, I go outside, I'm all wet, God forgive me, I jump out, I shout to Eugene to come in, I fall to the ground and howl with animal fear. A minute later, I hear my grandmother's voice: "Mother! Call your mother!" I fly into the hut, and grandma shouts to me: "Pray!", I also shout: "I can't!", and grandma says to me: "As you can, so pray! Fall down in front of the icons!" I'm on my knees, and I don't know any prayers! And I don't know what to say either. I'm just screaming: "Lord, save and have mercy!" My Eugene is huddled in a corner, gray-haired all over... At the age of thirty, he turned gray in a minute! Serezha, or I don't know who, is sitting on a chair and still laughing like a madman, and those white eyes, teeth bared... Grandma shouts, "What's your name, answer me?!" and Sergei didn't even say, but spat out, "Nadia!" And Grandma says to him, "Why did you put such trash on your father's back, Nadia?" and Seryozha laughs even louder: "May you all die here, you bastards! I hate it!" That's when I lost consciousness, apparently. I woke up on the street. Next to him, Eugene is gray-haired and my Earring, completely normal, only pale and scared. And I'm afraid to look at him. I don't know who's with me now: my son or an unknown creature? Zhenya says to me, "Go to your grandmother. She asked when you'd wake up..." I'm coming in. Grandma says to me, "What kind of Nadia is this?" I honestly answer, "I have no idea. I don't know a single Nadia." Grandma says again, "Remember. There was a Nadia in your life. And Nadia's grandmother was not a good one. Oh, it's not good." And then I got hit on the head by Nadia! Nadia is from Siberia! I immediately told my grandmother that long-ago story. And the grandmother swears: "You fools! At least they could make some inquiries about the girl. She had a grandmother, God forbid she should meet one on her way. Even I wouldn't try to compete. And before she died, she told Nadia everything. And the girl has a big grudge against you. Remember: did you leave any personal belongings for her?" I say, "Well, what kind of things? She took our gifts with her, of course. Am I going to take her gifts away from the child? There were also my things there: I didn't have much money, I was sewing my skirts and blouses for Nadia. She left in them." Grandma said to me, "Well, congratulations on that. She put a death spell on your whole family through your stuff. Everyone would get out, one by one." Then I burst into tears: "What should I do?". Grandma paused, chewed her lips, and said, "Send your father home tomorrow. And let him take the younger one away. You and the older one will stay here. And you will come to me every day."

The next day, Eugene and Danka left. And I stayed with Seryoga. I'm ashamed to say, but I was terrified of my own son. I was afraid to stay in the same room with him, I was afraid to turn off the lights at night. I could still hear his inhuman laughter in my ears. Seryozha himself did not remember anything at all, he said that he just sat, looked out the window and listened to his grandmother's mumbling — everything was as usual. The next day, Seryozha and I went to Grandma's again. She sat Serezha on a chair in front of the window and began to whisper something. And then I heard that creepy laugh again. I almost peed myself again. Seryozha was laughing very loudly, but then grandma made some kind of movement with her hands behind his back, and the laughter stopped. The grandmother was making some movements with effort, as if she was breaking or tearing something off. Seryozha began to scream as if in pain. The grandmother "broke" something for about five minutes, and then she opened the window wide and screamed: "Get out of here, get out! Get out, I said!" And then Seryozha says in such a plaintive and unfamiliar voice: "How am I going to go? You broke my wings..." I howled in fear, and Grandma kept yelling, "Whatever you want, fly! Get out, get out of here!" Here, the window will shut with all its might — as soon as the glass doesn't fly out? My earring has dropped his head on the windowsill and seems to be asleep. His grandmother shook him by the shoulder, he raises his head, his eyes sleepy: "Mom, did I fall asleep?". And I'm sitting there crying, covered in snot, and nodding my head like an elephant...

Anyway, we went to Grandma's for three more days, and then we came home. And I'm still so scared, especially when I look at Zhenya's hair... I even quit smoking, I don't drink anything, not even beer, and I don't swear anymore, even in anger. And it always seems to me that my son is not my son. I also bought a prayer belt for myself in church, and I wear it all the time on my naked body. I'm scared...".

Almost ten years have passed since then. Sergei is already nineteen years old, an incredibly charming and talented boy: a musician, plays in a band, performs. I go to his performances. I love this boy very much — it's impossible not to love him: he exudes some incredible aura of charm. But when he stays at my place overnight, for some reason I don't turn off the light in the room either. I don't know why. And I'll never tell Seryozha about it.



Fear

 The sound from the next room struck him with horror — it seemed that even his lungs had forgotten how to breathe. Fear crawled like a nasty cold snake down my spine, made its way to my head and froze there, disabling control over my entire body. And if Kostya hadn't been lying on the couch, he probably would have fallen to the floor because of his weak legs.

That sound couldn't be real. No, it wasn't a scream, a growl, or a child's laugh, which is so popular in horror films, it was the sound of something falling out of wood. And nothing wooden could fall, even if all the windows were wide open, simply because there was only furniture in that room, and the sound of furniture falling would definitely not be like that.

Kostya, a ten-year-old boy, didn't really like it when his parents left him alone in this huge apartment. It wasn't that he was afraid of anything, it was just that he didn't like it, and he couldn't explain why. The only thing Kostya could do after he closed the door behind his mother was to read a book. Neither the TV nor the computer could lure him with their screens. Kostya was lying on the couch and completely immersed in the "King Solomon's Mines" when this sound was heard.

The boy's fingers were covered with sweat and no longer wanted to hold the book. Turning his head with difficulty, Kostya looked through the doorway that led to the corridor:

"Who's there?"

Silence. The child's brain began to cling desperately to reality: "Yes, something fell from the neighbors... What nonsense... there's no one there..."

The only way to check was to go and take a look. Tears began to form in my eyes, and I wanted to scream and hide in a corner. But the fear did not go away, and even at the age of ten, Kostya understood that the best way to calm down was to go into the next room.

Kostya clenched his fists and went to the door. I should have gone out into the hallway and turned right. By the fact that it was dark in the hallway, Kostya realized that the door to the next room was closed, and since he did not hear the sound of the door opening, he most likely could safely leave the room.

That's what the brain said, but fear rarely obeys reason. Kostya walked towards the door on trembling legs. Listening to every rustle, the boy could only hear the beating of his own heart. Half the distance to the door has already been covered, and the fear is becoming more insistent, rejecting all rational explanations... Kostya, on bent legs, began to look out into the hallway towards the next room. Nothing. Everything is as usual. There's the door. Kostya froze, straightened his legs, and then, for some reason, laughter began to rise in his throat. Kostya began to calm down and, almost without fear, reached the closed door leading to the room from which the sound had come.

Kostya grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. The wave of fear returned, but it was too late to do anything else. The boy entered the room. There was nothing wooden on the floor, and anyway, the room was almost the same as always.

Almost. Something was wrong. A nervous laugh escaped Bones's mouth. What's wrong?..

His hand reached for the light switch. The light only reinforced the impression that something had changed. Kostya's gaze stopped at a large mirror hanging on the wall, and his eyes began to widen in surprise — something was reflected in the mirror that was not in the room. Stepping to the right and realizing what it was, Kostya screamed in horror and, stumbling, rushed to where he hid when he was very young — to the toilet.

There was a coffin in the mirror in the middle of the room.

His legs gave way, and Kostya fell before reaching his hiding place. The horror was so overwhelming that for a moment Kostya lost all ability to move. Looking back towards the room, the boy realized that no one was following him, and this gave him strength for a moment. The bathroom door was ajar, and light was streaming in — it was at least some kind of salvation, although subconsciously Kostya wanted to lock himself in the toilet, which was a little further away. He always did that when he was a kid. The small bathroom always gave him some peace of mind. But now there was no choice: the toilet was closed, and it was dark in there —and it would take precious seconds to turn on the light. All these thoughts flashed through Bones's subconscious in an instant, and he rushed into the bathroom.

The gray veil of fear receded a little as he slammed the door behind him. Kostya slid to the floor on weak legs and, afraid to make any sound, began to cry softly. "This just can't be happening," his father's reasonable voice sounded in his head. "It's impossible." But the details of what he saw began to surface in his head.

The coffin, upholstered in red velvet, stood on stools in the middle of the room. There was a lid on the floor next to him, and Kostya realized that its fall had made the sound that started this nightmare. As far as Kostya could see, there was no one in the coffin. At the thought of where, exactly, the one who was there, the boy began to tremble. His mind refused to process anything, and for twenty minutes Kostya huddled and shivered on the floor near the sink. It was quiet outside the door—so quiet that it seemed as if the whole world had disappeared somewhere. There was only the little boy and the reflection of the coffin in the room.

Mirror.... There's a mirror in the bathroom too! As soon as this thought occurred to Bones, the trembling immediately disappeared. His whole body went limp, and Kostya felt like he was going to die. His heart skipped a beat, but after a couple of seconds it started beating again, and Kostya found the last of his strength to look at the mirror. Actually, it was poorly visible from below, from the floor. Anyway, even standing on his feet, Kostya couldn't see himself in it, because he hadn't grown to that level yet.

To see herself in this mirror, Kostya had to stand with her feet on the edge of the tub. He had strength from nowhere, and he forced himself to stand on his feet.

The reflection in the mirror was ordinary — the ceiling and part of the wall. Kostya leaned against the sink and began to climb onto the edge of the tub. Standing up with weak legs, Kostya began to climb the wall with his hands, peering fearfully at the view in the mirror. Nothing... everything is as usual. It reflected what should have been reflected. Here's the washing machine, here are the towels, here's the door.

And then my heart stopped beating again. The latch tab in the reflection was in the "open" position. Kostya blinked and looked at the lock. Closed. In the mirror. Is open...

And then the light went out.

Kostya bit his tongue until it hurt so as not to make a single sound. The light bulb didn't burn out, the light was turned off outside — a moment before dark, Kostya heard the switch click. His chin trembled treacherously. In another second, Kostya would have screamed. But then something happened that made him lose consciousness — the door in the reflection began to open...

Falling from the height of the bathtub and hitting his elbow on the sink did not prevent Kostya's consciousness from shutting down. His adrenaline-soaked body was given a few minutes to calm down.

It was still dark in the bathroom when Kostya came to his senses. Turning to the only spot of light, Kostya realized that this light was coming from the mirror — the light from THAT reflected corridor was coming through the open reflected bathroom door, and it was Kostya who saw it as soon as he came to himself. So the door had opened after all.

The boy didn't care what was in the mirror anymore. Curled up, he pressed himself into the corner between the bathroom and the wall like a cub. His chin was shaking, his teeth were chattering, and his mind was having a hard time understanding what was going on around him. After ten minutes of this state, Kostya began to come to his senses. Covering his mouth with his hand, he began to roar. All the fear of the last hour began to come out in those tears. With tear-stained eyes, Kostya stared at the streak of light in the reflected bathroom ceiling. Suddenly, the strip narrowed slightly, as if someone had appeared in the passage.

The boy's heart was about to jump out of his chest. He pressed both hands to his mouth, afraid to make a sound. Nothing changed for five minutes. Kostya closed his eyes and tried to stand up. It was scarier with his eyes closed, and as soon as Kostya opened them, his gaze immediately fell on the mirror. An old woman stared at him unblinkingly. In a shroud, with a piece of paper on her forehead, she looked straight into the boy's eyes.

Kostya, not realizing what he was doing, rushed to the door, opened the latch with numb fingers and rushed out of the bathroom. In the first moments, daylight blinded him, and it was enough for the boy to stumble over the threshold. Getting up, Kostya rushed into the room, the one where he had seen the coffin in the reflection. There was a mirrored wardrobe in the hallway, and Kostya saw out of the corner of his eye in the mirror that the old woman was coming out of the bathroom, inexplicably still looking at him.

Suddenly, there was a creaky old man's whisper: "Why didn't you close the mirrors?.. Why didn't you cover the mirrors with sheets?.." Kostya barely heard it. He could only see the window and the blue sky behind it...


"City News", March 12, 19.. of the year: "A terrible incident occurred today on N street. A ten-year-old boy broke a window and jumped out of an eighth-floor window. No traces of a crime were found in the apartment. A criminal case has been opened. The most likely cause of the incident is suicide, as the apartment was locked from the inside. An investigation is underway."



Silhouettes

 I was 11 years old at the time. I didn't have a father, but I did have a stepfather. My mother and I stayed in our two-room apartment, and he went on a business trip to another city. We went to bed, and that's when it all started...

I woke up in the middle of the night, I don't know exactly what time it was. I woke up terrified: there was a shadow over my bed. It was a human silhouette, slightly elongated, the head was oval, the shoulders were narrow, and the "silhouette" itself seemed to be slightly elongated. It stood motionless, but I could feel it staring at me. I was terribly scared, and I couldn't think of anything better than to hide under the covers. I wanted to scream and call my mother for help, but I thought she wouldn't believe me.

I don't know how much time has passed, but I decided to look out from under the covers. After removing the blanket from my face, I saw that the silhouette had disappeared somewhere. I still don't understand how I had the courage to go out into the hallway, but that's exactly what I did. In the dark, I groped for my toy vending machine (funny, but I thought it would help me), and decided to look into my mother's room. For some reason, it seemed to me that she was in danger.

Then there was something unimaginable. After taking a couple of steps down the hall (I didn't have the sense to turn on the light), I could already look into my mother's open room. I was probably too scared: there were already THREE such silhouettes above my mother's sofa. The "elongated" one, the second one — he had human legs, but his head was just huge, his toothy open mouth was visible... I don't even know what to call them... paws instead of front arms. And he bent over my mother. The third was sitting on all fours and was as motionless as the "stretched out" one.

I ran like a bullet to my room and jumped back under the covers, shaking like an aspen leaf. I was so scared that I decided to scream and call my mother for help. And I screamed. I called her several times, but she never came. After lying down for a while longer, I decided to go to her to check if everything was okay. But as soon as I got out from under the covers, I saw that THEY were standing next to my bed. The three creatures that were next to my mother were already near me, and as one, they stared at me. For the first time, this "elongated" one became animated. He started walking around the apartment. At first, he came a little closer to me and seemed to tilt his head, looking into my eyes, then he went out into the corridor and went to my mother, as I understood it. Then he came back and froze again. The other two just stood there and did nothing.

All this time I was watching what was happening. At some point, I thought that I was imagining it all, it was just a dream, and decided to turn away from them to the wall, covering myself with a blanket. I wish I hadn't done that... Turning to the wall, I saw my reflection on it — on a wall where there are no mirrors, just plain paper wallpaper, I saw myself! Only it wasn't me: when the reflection abruptly opened its eyes, I saw that they were yellow, like a cat's. It stared at me blankly, and then began to climb up somewhere. I squeezed my eyes shut and fell into oblivion.

I woke up at dawn, as if nothing had happened. The first thing I did was check on my mother—she was lying on her couch as if nothing had happened. Then he didn't tell her anything, because he thought she wouldn't believe him.



Red Eye

 I want to share a story that happened to me as a child. It was 1978; I was a five-year-old boy and lived in a Siberian village in the Kemerovo region with my parents and my aunt (my mother's sister) in a house that my father had built. My aunt went to boarding school and lived with us in my room.

One winter evening, my parents were sleeping in their room, and my aunt was doing her homework (history, I think). I asked her to tell me a story, and she read her homework to me from a textbook in the dim light of the sconce above her bed. I must admit, I wasn't interested in listening to her homework, because I asked her to tell me a story. And at that moment, something on the other side of the door began to climb it. There was a distinct noise, as if someone small was clinging to the ledges of the door and climbing up. I should add that the door was wooden, and there was a gap on top between the jamb and the door, about the width of a matchbox. My aunt and I immediately fell silent and stared at the door expectantly. Something from the other side got to the top...

The first thing we saw in the crack was a small hand, similar to a human's, only black. She reached through the crack and grabbed the top edge of the door. Fear took my breath away. I stared at the hand without taking my eyes off it, just like my aunt. At this time, a second hand appeared, which also caught on the edge of the door: the creature began to pull itself up on its hands.

What my aunt and I saw then, I still can't describe in detail. It looked like a huge bright red eye the size of a tennis ball, which began to stare at us. I couldn't see the rest of the creature, because the terrified aunt abruptly told me to cover myself with a blanket over my head, and she covered herself too. So we sat under the blankets most of the night.

We told our parents everything in the morning. My father didn't believe us and said that my aunt should do her homework earlier, and not stay up late, then she wouldn't be imagining things. Recently, my aunt and I recalled the night when I came to visit her, but we were still unable to rationalize this incident.



Wife

 This story happened to my brother. He once came with his wife to the village to visit his wife's mother. Our grandmother lives in the same village, so we visit there often. The village is populated and beautiful, but there is always something going on there that is incomprehensible in terms of supernatural phenomena. Further from the words of my brother:

"We arrived late in the evening. My mother-in-law greeted me joyfully, as she lives alone and has no one to talk to. She immediately bombarded us with questions about how, what, and where. I understand her, she misses her daughter and granddaughters, that's why she welcomes them. After the "interrogation" we went to our room to do business, that is, to put things out and put the kids to bed. My wife said she wanted to take another shower, and left the room, and I lay down on the couch — after all, I was tired, I started thinking about something else. There was a night light on the table, as children are afraid to sleep in the dark. I'm lying on my side, the door to the room is closed. And then I feel someone lying down next to me, from behind, and, of course, I immediately fell into a stupor from fright. I feel like I've been hugged — this makes me even more tense, my thoughts are confused: my wife seems to have left, she's not in the room, the children are asleep, my mother-in-law definitely wouldn't have hugged me, then who is it? And then I hear my wife's voice saying to me, "Kitty, are you still awake?"

I was even more taken aback.: How can this be? After all, she went to the shower, and I don't remember her coming back. Well, I think I either fell asleep and didn't notice that she was back, but I didn't seem to sleep, or I was hallucinating and she didn't leave the room. Nevertheless, it made me feel better to realize that this was my wife after all, and not some otherworldly creature.

Turning to her, I tried to hug her too. I felt that she was naked, and even somehow cold—well, she was probably frozen. I covered her with a blanket and told her that I thought she was coming out. She didn't say anything about it, and we started talking—or rather, she started talking about the supernatural and the incomprehensible. She asked for my opinion and my idea of the afterlife, and I began to rant about this topic, telling her that I had seen and heard some strange things and sounds a couple of times, but attributed everything to fatigue or hallucinations, etc. I can't say for sure how long we lay there talking, but it seemed like a very long time. She kept telling me something.

Then the door opens and my wife comes into the room! My gaze falls on her, then on what was lying next to me, and I discover that "it" has already disappeared! There was no limit to my—I don't even know what to call it—fear, misunderstanding, and other feelings. Jumping up from the couch, all I could think of was to ask, "Where did you come from? You were just lying with me!" My wife looked at me like I was sick in the head. Well, I understand her about that. I started telling her everything that happened here, and she believed me anyway and told me that they had had strange cases on this site, where the house stands, and I'm not the only one who has encountered something like this.


In general, until the morning, my wife and I (already a real one) We couldn't sleep because we were scared. But I still couldn't fully explain who or what it was, especially since it was in the likeness of my wife."



Saturday, November 8, 2025

Experiment with a mirror

 What I want to tell you happened five years ago. My husband and I were working in Mongolia at the time. There was a tense situation with literature, so any book, newspaper or magazine brought back from vacation was literally passed around. And so in one magazine, I don't remember the name anymore, I came across an article about the magical power of mirrors. At one time, I learned to predict the future of my friends from coffee grounds, but I couldn't look into my own future in this way, I simply couldn't see anything in my cup. And in this article it was said that a mirror can show both the future and the past, depending on what you focus on.

This idea has sunk into my soul. It was just the right time: the children had already left, the husband had gone on a business trip. And then one day on the weekend, when all the business was already over, the sun went down, and I decided to experiment with the mirror. I put a stool in the hall, installed a table mirror on it, and arranged it so that I could see my face completely. She placed two candles on either side of him, lit them, and sat on the floor in front of the mirror. She tried to look at her face in a relaxed manner, avoiding eye contact with her reflection.; as I understand it now, I was looking into the supposed area of the "third eye."

At first, nothing interesting happened. I was already beginning to think that nothing would work out, when suddenly my face began to lose its contours, and I saw myself the same, but much younger. It seemed as if the mirror was flipping through the pages of my life, but not towards the future, but showing me my past. The changes were slow at first, so I could keep track of these visions. The faces of my relatives and children flashed by, and I even saw my first love.

Then something changed, the change of faces began to happen faster; I almost couldn't figure out who I was seeing in front of me, and it seemed that the mirror was darkening. And the faces that appeared in it seemed angry, dissatisfied, sometimes even angry. I felt uneasy somehow - fear enveloped me in sticky threads, and when the evil, distorted face of a completely unfamiliar old woman appeared in the mirror, who looked into my eyes and, as it seemed to me, began to stretch out her hand towards me, my nerves could not stand it, and I abruptly turned away from myself The mirror.

What was that? Did I really see my future, or did I just do something wrong and cause some other entities? I don't know. I didn't even risk putting out the candles right away, so as not to stay in the dark — I blew them out only after I turned on the light in the room. My heart was pounding in my chest, my whole face was covered in sweat, and for a long time after that I couldn't come to my senses. I no longer had the desire to repeat this experience, and my attitude towards mirrors has changed.: I began to look at them rarely, whenever possible in a good mood. I try to clean them more often and I do not advise anyone to conduct such experiments without careful preparation.



Cream

 A birthday is perceived by a birthday boy as a bright holiday only in childhood. Later, it becomes clear that the celebration that is being held does not arise by itself, and you need to put a lot of work and a lot of money into it to get something worthy. Some, however, put a lot of alcohol into it and rush into their new year on wine fumes and without unnecessary mental anguish. For a woman, it's even more deplorable. Firstly, there is a lot of demand from the hostess of the celebration, and secondly, every year she gets further and further away from the coveted youth and beauty.

These were the sad thoughts that plagued Sveta shortly before the holiday. Her friends had already notified her and warned her that they would definitely come to her for the holiday, so that she would not even think about giving an excuse to get together and have a good walk. Sveta was counting the money remaining from her last paycheck, squinting at expensive miracle creams in stores that promised to give her five years of youth, and desperately did not want to spend the remaining funds in one evening.

She was not a stupid woman and understood that she would not be able to get away, which meant that she had to look for benefits in this position. Therefore, she, in turn, a week before the celebration, handed her friend a sheet from a notebook.:

— Here, give it to me for my birthday. I don't need a dozen souvenirs, and you don't have to give me bouquets. Damn it, they won't save me. I know it's not cheap, but if you divide the amount by all of them, then it's fine. You just give the others an idea.

The friend was old and trusted, and she treated the request with due attention and delicacy. That evening, she called everyone else and warned them that she had already chosen a gift, and that all that remained was to raise money for it and buy it. It was necessary — two days later, Lizaveta collected the last installment and went to the store. But the right thing wasn't in it. It's New Year's Eve, and the goods are expensive, but they're all sold out, sorry.

Just in case, Lisa ran around the smaller shops for two more days, then she went around all the basement stalls, but she still didn't find anything. And time passed. The savior, quite by chance, was an unknown woman who witnessed Lisa's conversation with a salesman in another store. Yes, she has just that thing. Yes, unopened. From where? My daughter gave it to me, but it's kind of a pity to spend such a treasure on yourself. It's expensive. So why not sell to someone who really needs it?

So, the gift was presented to the happy birthday girl on time.

In the evening, Sveta unwrapped the bundle and smiled. Yes, that's exactly what she asked for. A wonderful cream packed with useful substances so much that, according to reviews, even decrepit old women turned into young girls. Well, if we put aside the exaggerations, she has gained a couple of years for herself — she can manage to get married. Or just enjoy a little more simple female happiness.

Sveta opened the jar and inhaled the light, slightly sour fragrance. What does it smell like? The fresh scent of gooseberries, mown grass, and something else completely elusive came to mind.

The cream was absorbed into the skin instantly, laying on the cheeks with a delicate silk. Sveta finished the evening sacrament and went to bed, happy and, as it seemed to her, weightless.

After a couple of months, she was unrecognizable — rejuvenated, prettier, it seemed that her skin was glowing and filled with strength and health. Even Sveta's look has changed. There was no shortage of fans now, and Lizaveta, looking at her friend, bought a miracle remedy herself. But the cream didn't suit her. Yes, he's good. Yes, it's high-quality, but no miracle happened to her skin. The cream is like a cream, I shouldn't have overpaid.

Towards summer, Sveta finally decided on the choice of her chosen one, set the wedding date for the middle of summer and immersed herself in the atmosphere of preparation for such an important event. This preparation exhausted her so much that the groom could not stand it and once almost forcibly took the woman out of the city. It's not superfluous for anyone to spend a week in the country — there's fresh air, fruits and vegetables from the garden, and fresh milk, and there's practically no connection — an ideal place to relax.

On the second day of my stay at the cottage, I sighed and scraped out the remnants of the cream from the jar, applied it evenly on my face and went to bed. The groom went on a night fishing trip and promised to arrive home with fresh fish when she woke up. Thinking about these simple joys — the groom and the fish, Sveta fell asleep.

And then, for the first time in years, she had a nightmare. She dreamed that she was standing on top of a hill, the ground was bulging under her feet, and the wind was hot and sticky in her face. The wind seems to be blowing, and the hair is hanging like whips, and it's uncomfortable to look through them. She tries to remove them with her hand, but her hand dries up and turns yellow from the wind right in front of her eyes, and the skin scabs off. She tries to scream and feels her dry tongue scratching the roof of her mouth. And then I saw something like white pearls fall under my feet. He tries to sit down, but the bones do not bend, the muscles dry out. With difficulty, she felt the pearls near her feet, brought them to her eyes and recoiled — her teeth were lying in the palm of her hand.

Sveta screamed pitifully, inhaled the sticky wind and coughed, feeling the thin tissue of her lungs tearing.

She tried to get off the hill, but the rocky ground crumbles under her feet, and the body, eaten away by the disease, is not her helper. Sveta couldn't stay on her feet, rolled head over heels on the hot ground, feeling her body crumble, and... woke up.

I woke up in a panic, tossed around in bed, and started crying. And, feeling tears running down her cheeks, she gradually calmed down, stroked her strong, well-shaped body with her hands, counted her teeth with her tongue, was surprised at her own nightmare, and fell asleep again.

The next evening, remembering about the dream, Sveta did not let the groom go fishing. He has nothing to wander around when the lady of his heart needs moral and physical support. The woman fell asleep that evening, resting in the arms of her beloved man, and it seemed to her that she was protected better than anyone in the world.

It seemed wrong, by the way.

I opened the eyes of the Light on the already familiar hill. The same hot sticky wind, the same hot stones underfoot. This time she did not wait for an illness, but immediately tried to go downstairs, where, as it seemed to her, ordinary life was in full swing.

She managed to take two steps, and then she felt salty blood in her mouth, felt a loose tooth with her tongue and rushed down, not understanding the way.

The dust that rose from this enveloped the woman in a vile cloud, and Sveta felt the acrid dust penetrate deep into her body, drying up her flesh. And the eyes! God, my eyes hurt when they were covered with this dust! It felt like all those cones and rods she'd read about in biology classes were bursting from the inside.

When the dust had eaten away the tissues of her face and reached her brain, Sveta woke up in horror.

The girl was waiting for the next night like torture. She was both afraid and at the same time realized that a dream was a dream, and it was stupid to worry about it. These nightmares are the consequences of the excitement before the wedding, and nothing more. It is necessary to overcome yourself and your worries, then the nightmares will recede. Well, as a last resort, the wedding is just around the corner, and after the celebration everything will settle down.

Once on the hill, Sveta forgot all her evening attempts to calm down and panicked. What to do? You can't go down, you can't fly up, and standing here means slowly falling apart. The familiar and hated sticky wind did not take long to wait, and the woman tried to turn away from it, but it turned out that the wind was omnipresent.

She hid her face behind her hands and, slowly and carefully rearranging her legs, began to descend. Her teeth might fall out, her skin might wither, but maybe she could finally make it to the bottom of the hill alive.

One step, two, three. The lower incisors fell on the tongue like heavy beads. Sveta pushed them behind her cheek with her tongue, not daring to open her mouth, and continued her descent.

The nails were next in line. They peeled off in transparent rounded plates and fell into the dust. The dust did not slow down to bite into the unprotected meat, corroding it and causing severe pain.

Sveta restrained herself with the last of her strength and did not scream, and did not hurry. I remembered yesterday's lesson.

Lower and lower she descended, and her hands withered, her legs went wild, her skin burned, and her hair had long been stuck together and hung in heavy icicles. However, not for long. It took her a moment to realize what kind of dark snake had fallen at her feet, but then she felt a sore bald spot on her head with her fingers and realized that the snake was a lock of her hair.

Most of the descent has already been completed, and you can already see the green grasses below, and the wind blowing from below has picked up a pleasant familiar smell. It could smell like gooseberry berries, freshly cut grass, and honey.

But the closer the cherished valley was, the stranger the fragrance became, turning into a suffocating stench that rolled in waves. Sveta had no strength left, and she sank down on the hot stones and crawled forward on all fours, still hoping to find salvation.

The moment the woman reached the heavy-smelling grass, she saw thousands of insects scurrying everywhere. She moaned, dropped her head into her hands, and the goosebumps did not slow down to bite into her thin skin.

The pain was so intense that Sveta had a second wind. Her tortured body was convulsing, and she was scratching at her cheeks and forehead with her fingers, trying to drive away the insects, and the flesh, no longer protected by her nails, was fraying and melting, exposing the bones. The last thing she felt was the overwhelming pain that spread through her body in waves and drilled into her brain.

At that moment, when Sveta began to tear her face with her own nails, Oleg woke up and tried to hold her beloved. But even his strength was not enough to stop the distraught woman, and he could only cling to her hands as the woman tore off the layers of meat and skin from her face. When she finally stopped and went limp, Oleg was horrified to see in the dark the snow-white bones of the skull, freed from such malleable flesh.



In the currant bushes

 It happened to me 12 years ago, when I was still a child. My cousin Borya came to see me every month. He was older than me and loved to scare me — he put on masks, dressing gowns, even took my mother's fur coat to pretend to be a monster. My heart was in my mouth, and he was still laughing.

One day, as usual, his parents came to our cottage. In the evening, everyone gathered at the table, and we were sent outside to play. The August nights in Yakutia are dark, and my brother and I were playing in the courtyard, illuminated by a bright moon. We played hide-and-seek, and I drove that time. My brother hid well. I searched for him for a long time and suddenly I heard a strange sound in the currant bushes, as if someone sighed heavily and sadly. I immediately realized that it was Borya, as always, who decided to scare me, and shouted:

— Borya, get out, I know you're there!

Borya did respond, but behind my back, in a completely different place. Intrigued, I picked up a stick, walked over to the bush and poked it lightly with the stick. An oval, wrinkled, white-and-yellow face peered out from behind a bush in the moonlight. It looked disgusting: the eye sockets were empty, the mouth was wet, without teeth, the lips were cracked like an old man's. I was terrified. It was so wild and creepy that even after 12 years, the very thought of that creature gives me goosebumps.

When I came to my senses, I ran home as fast as I could, sobbing. Then I walked away from the incident for a long time. My parents decided that it was my brother's work and scolded Borya. But I knew for sure that it wasn't him.

That night, when everyone was asleep, I tossed and turned on the bed for a long time without sleep. Lying in my room, which was on the second floor, I could hear the heavy sighs of that creature under the window.



" Gazelle"

 Last summer, my father asked me to stay in his apartment in new buildings while he was on vacation, so that I could water the flowers, feed the cat, etc. I also brought my dog there with me — there was no one to leave her with either. Well, that's how I lived for a while. Every day I went out with the dog for a walk at about half past eleven. And there was a forest park nearby, so I went there with her.

One day, I was walking with her along the highway that passes by the forest park, and there was a gazelle on the side of the road, where there is no asphalt anymore. It was such an ordinary car that had not started for a very long time — well, such an ordinary snowdrop. The body was rusty in places, the wheels had been punctured for a long time — in short, she was standing there and rotting. I've seen this gazelle before. And today, my dog — he's a dachshund, by the way — saw a cat or a rat there and ran right under the car. I couldn't get her out by the tape measure leash, so I bent down to see what she was doing there. Seeing nothing, I straightened up, and then suddenly noticed a face inside the gazelle. A girl was looking right at me and smiling very cheerfully. Actually, it didn't seem surprising to me, since children often laugh when they see dachshunds — they're funny.

I bent down again and pulled on the dog's leash, and she just growled in response. Then I looked at the girl again, and now it seemed to me that she was not taking her eyes off me at all, and that she was not looking at me cheerfully at all, but rather maliciously. Her black hair was disheveled and, as it seemed to me, her shoulders were not covered with anything. She looked to be about nine years old. And then I saw through the glass of the gazelle how she raised her hand, shook her finger at me and hissed in a rather nasty voice: "BITCH!". Then I kind of froze, but finally I saw that she wasn't smiling at all from the very beginning - she just didn't have lips, they were cut off as if along the contour, and only her teeth stuck out, they even seemed to shine. Turning around, I rushed back, but my dog stopped dead and howled very loudly. I tried to run, but the dog was pulling me back, I had to turn around and pick her up, but I was afraid to turn around. It was creepy. I don't remember how it all turned out, but when I reached the nearest store, I calmed down a little. Then my dog howled all night. Maybe I should have called the cops about this gazelle?



Hello, Uncle

 I was lying in bed, but my eyes wouldn't close. There was no sleep in either eye. It was getting annoying, but was it worth getting ang...