That was a long time ago. Of course, I did not find my great-grandfather, but this story was told to me by my grandmother - his daughter, therefore. Ivan Bogdanovich (or simply Bogdanych) was a stern peasant, without sentimentality. I was not afraid of anything, I was not careful. He was not large, but wiry. I went to church on Sundays, but I didn't believe in any unclean power. And then one day he was going to a neighboring village, to his sister and her husband: to visit and talk about business.
Then they lived in a small village near Pskov. It was early autumn, it was getting dark already. Mist rose from the lowlands like a gray blanket. They had to go through the field, and then through the forest. You can, of course, on the road, but it takes longer. And this is not a forest at all, but a small grove. He knew these places well: he went for mushrooms, and for berries, and for firewood. In general, there was only a short walk, and by the night I planned to return home. I didn't take food or drink with me - it took me three hours. I took only gifts for the tribesmen - sugar cockerels on a stick.
He walked the field quickly and efficiently. Pulled by mud - it means that the swamp is not far. It was already getting dark, and the bumps, along which this swamp always crossed, were almost invisible. He took a wooden stick - that's safer - and let's jump over the bumps. He quickly crossed to the other side and began to climb the hill to the grove. Looks - but there is no grove. Only the field is ahead. Strange, he had already passed the field. He looked around - and behind him was the forest. How did it happen? Did you mix it up, did you cross the swamp incorrectly? He returned and again began to cross the bog. He walked, but looked around - is he going there? Yes, that's right, he goes to the forest. True, it is already dark, but the silhouettes of trees can be seen ahead. I climbed a hillock - a field. Where is the forest? And what is this field? Behind him, after all, the village should be seen, from which he left, but there is no village. No houses, no lights, only thorny stubble, and beyond it - as black as an abyss.
Bogdanych felt uneasy, he crossed himself just in case, returned to the quagmire. I tried to switch again - the same result. Well, he didn’t know the place, but he knew them almost from childhood. Here he got really scared and remembered all the stories about goblin and evil spirits. It seems that he shouldn't have believed in them. Tired great-grandfather terribly, exhausted, tormented by thirst. But a strange foreboding, a kind of melancholy, prevailed even more. A feeling came over him that everything he would do was useless. The dull gray fog was such a dense wall that nothing could be seen beyond two steps. He went to the hillock, sat down under a small bush. I could not sleep, so with my eyes closed I sat until dawn. Mentally, I read prayers to myself and was baptized, although I was never very devout.
Promotional video:
In the morning, through the jelly of the fog, a faint cry of a rooster broke through, and my great-grandfather went to the sound. A few minutes later I went out to my village. I went into the house - my great-grandmother did not recognize him, aged ten years. At first he was silent, did not say anything, only drank a few buckets of water and climbed onto the stove, slept until evening. On Sunday I went to church, prayed earnestly, lit candles for all the saints. And only then, many months later, he told what had happened to him. My great-grandfather was sure that it was his goblin circling. Since then, he never mentioned unclean spirits aloud - and did not allow others.
Here's a real story. Oh yes, I forgot to say - the sugar cockerels are gone. Either he lost them, or the goblin was eating …
What do you think, what really happened there?