So much has been written, filmed and told about ghosts, ghosts and other evil spirits that it is hardly enough for one century of serious analysis. People often see not what they then call otherworldly manifestations.
After all, you probably noticed how the appearance of various afterlife creatures changed from time to time. After all, it is quite obvious that in the Middle Ages it was customary to observe a devil with horns and hooves, but today gray creatures with large heads, black eyes and in shiny overalls are in trend.
Therefore, the projections of what comes to us from another world always adjust to the way of thinking and development of the observer. In other words, the more intelligent and educated a person is, the more technologically advanced the otherworldly manifestations will be.
But that's not the point. As a kid, thirty years ago, thanks to my parents, I began to think about the essence of things early. And since I was madly in love with dinosaurs and other interesting things, my curiosity went far beyond the black coffin, in the black room. No, I can't say that I was not scared, but my young and lively brain demanded an explanation of the essence of things. Therefore, thanks to childish naivety, I did not distinguish between mysticism and physical phenomena. And by the way, it helped me a lot then. I intuitively found answers for myself, although not always the correct ones.
All this I mean is that in fact there are a lot of amazing events and phenomena. But if they cannot be explained by optics or thermodynamics, they immediately turn into the category of stupidity, prejudice, or even madness. And what if physics and mathematics have nothing to do with it, or their influence on the phenomenon has a different nature? Alas, only a child can think so, to whom, over time, pundits will hammer into his head postulates that cannot be questioned in the least.
One joyful morning my parents informed me that in a week I was going to the Young Gagarinets pioneer camp. The camp was departmental and served the children of the Air Force. My father also worked in a military organization and apparently got a ticket there. Realizing that I would be on vacation among the children of pilots, I read a little different literature on aviation, so as not to fall face down in the mud when I had to lie that my father was a test pilot. In other words, I was sure that the company of at least boys would match their fathers and the guys would be technically advanced and scientifically interesting.
But in reality, everything turned out to be much worse. After settling in the boys' wing, I immediately noticed that the intellectual level of the local public is far from aviation and from the developed world in particular. Those who had already been on shift for some time were busy looking for a place to smoke. At counselors' meetings, wine and sex flowed like a river, and entertainment on interesting topics was catastrophically small.
Gathering a group of like-minded people from those who managed to save from the clutches of smokers and cherry hunters of local residents, we decided to have fun as it should be for civilized children who conquer the sky and space of their fathers. But all that was enough research thought, there were sessions of spiritualism. That is, at night we were busy trying to summon spirits. Fortunately, the girls from our detachment had a good command of magic and for several years have been professionally guessing and trying to see their constricted in mirrors with candles.
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Having received the necessary instructions from them, we prepared everything we needed. Two mirrors from the shower room went into business, and several candles that had to be stolen from the caretaker. I must say that despite the absurdity of our venture, everyone looked at what was happening with great enthusiasm. We did not so much want to summon spirits as we wanted to understand the reason for their appearance and study the nature of this phenomenon. It seemed to us that we were on the verge of a great discovery.
On the first night, everything went wrong. We did everything wrong, the candles were constantly extinguished and for some reason we couldn't get a good magic mirror corridor through which the spirit was supposed to come. But the next night we were fully armed. And all because we were kindly helped by the girl Alina, who told us that her mother was an air traffic controller and fortune-teller in combination. She really very professionally arranged all the occult objects so that we only had to wait for the night.
At twelve sharp we started. Two candles burned evenly and without soot, the corridor from the mirror image went somewhere into infinity, and we began to call. Unfortunately, we were unable to come up with something original and started with the Queen of Spades. Alas, we had little idea what kind of woman she was, and naturally contact with her failed.
The second contender was Peter I. But he also considered that we were not so important persons that time wasted on us. The third was, of course, Vladimir Vysotsky. Just then, I noticed a shadow out of the corner of my eye crawling along the wall. It looked like an ink stain, and the smudges diverging in all directions served as paws.
At first I thought it was candle bunnies in my eyes. But when he turned around, he realized that things were bad. Three of my new friends and researchers were closely watching the spot. It continued to move along the wall like a large insect. The spot was in the form of an uneven oval about 15 by 30 cm in diameter, and moved like an insect, stopping, then accelerating. We got cold inside and our hair moved. The whole body was screaming run, but the legs did not obey. The stain crawled for a few more seconds, then separated from the wall, squeezed into a dense matte dark blue ball and simply evaporated. At the same time, the room smelled strongly of the basement.
I believe my eyes and the eyes of those who were around. And I'm sure something that was crawling up the wall came from our actions. But that's why it happened, our descendants will have to figure it out.
BUKHRANSKY SERGEY