The supernatural is always there. Even if we don't believe it. Our editorial office receives more and more mystical letters. Some of the stories of the author of the rubric are no longer surprising. That is why we publish the most interesting ones.
Meeting at the cemetery
This story was told to me by a friend, let's call her Galina. At that time, and it was about twenty years ago, she was a very young girl who barely celebrated her 18th birthday. On vacation, as always, the girl went to her grandparents in the village, which is located somewhere beyond Irkutsk and Ust-Orda.
August was stifling that year. But, no matter how lazy it was, I had to go to the mow from morning to night. They returned home after dark. One evening it turned out that everyone had already left, and Galya and the drunk tractor driver Vaska remained on the field. Apparently, they thought that Vasily would not get drunk to the state of manure, but would take the girl home, or maybe in a hurry and out of fatigue they simply forgot about my girlfriend. Galyunya stands in the middle of the hay and thinks: whether to stay with a drunk guy for the night, or to walk to the village through the cemetery.
- Gaa-ala, - Vasya drawled in a drunken voice, - come here, we'll lie down together.
The drunken mutters of the tractor driver finally convinced the girl: "You must be afraid of the living, like Vaska, not the dead." Having made up her mind, Galya briskly moved towards the cemetery. It was, of course, uncomfortable, especially the terrible beliefs associated with this particular burial place, she heard a lot. The fact is that Russians and Buryats lived very amicably in the village, only they were buried in different cemeteries. Every nation has its own burial customs: say, for example, it is not customary for the Buryats to go to the grave after death, therefore the Buryat cemetery looked deserted and therefore more frightening. But my Galya is not from a timid dozen. She walked calmly, along the way, managing to read the tablets with the names of the deceased.
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Suddenly a chill ran down the girl's neck, as if inspired by the breeze. Girlfriend already winced from the unpleasant sensation, I had to accelerate my step. Meanwhile, a woman's laughter and melodic dialect in the Buryat language sounded distinctly behind. There was a complete feeling that two women were catching up with Galya, laughing along the way and talking with each other.
Not daring to turn around, Galina was already running. The thought stubbornly stuck in my head that I needed to run to the stream. Here we will make a small digression: the fact is that, according to legends, spirits are afraid of water and, therefore, they must lag behind a stream. Meanwhile, the voices were growing: it seemed to Gala that the dead literally surrounded her and were trying to take her into the ring.
Blinking her eyes, in one breath, the girl ran to the stream and ran across the water right in her shoes. Behind there was silence, only the trees swayed their branches in time with the breathlessness.
In the morning, Galina told her neighbor, grandmother Soelma, a terrible story. In response, she just shook her head: “Ehh, honey, they probably followed me, but they scared you. Since you only heard women, it means that they will come for the woman. The grandmother told her young acquaintance that the spirits, or, as the Buryats say, Boholdoi usually begin to follow the person who is time for the next world ahead of time, they rarely appear to people, but they are well heard, especially at the cemetery … By the way, grandmother Soelma died a month later, just in time for Gali's departure.
Ada Chernova
Meeting with a reel
Together with my husband and son, I stayed with my mother-in-law in the village of Dunda-Kiret, Bichursky district. When evening came, and it was time to sleep, my son and I were laid near the window in the hall. Everyone fell asleep, including myself, but somewhere around 1 am I felt a soft touch on my cheek. Without opening my eyes, I felt someone's gaze, and when I opened my eyes, I saw a dark, short figure.
At first I tried to calm myself: it's just a dream! But the figure was moving, and I could see it very well: short stature, long black hair, eyes as black as olives, and on the head there were horns and ears. Instead of legs, he had hooves, also covered with black wool. Such a piercing look … He watched me with interest. I could not move, I was shackled by horror and fear. Somehow I pulled the covers over myself and tried to turn away from him.
Ten minutes later, I plucked up courage and turned to see if he was worth it, but he was gone. Somehow waiting for the morning, I told my family about the night visit. My husband's mother, having listened, said that it was a bastard who lives in their home. We just took his place of residence. I will remember this meeting for a long time!
Zoya Safonova
Toy with a riddle
I was seven years old when Chuchundra appeared among my toys. It was a tiny funny man with a shock of fiery red and very tangled hair, because of the incomprehensible head of hair the toy got its name. Who gave me or bought Chuchundra, I do not remember, as if she herself suddenly found herself in a box. I remember how I took her out to the guys in the yard. The girls laughed: "Olka, throw her out, what a horror!" Offended, I violently threw the toy into the sand and ran home. In the evening, while cleaning the room, I found Chuchundra: as if nothing had happened, she was lying among the dolls, smiling maliciously, and the street sand was stuck in the shock of tangled strands. I felt uneasy.
Moments later, the nasty doll was thrown into the driveway garbage disposal. Waking up early in the morning, the first thing I did was to check the box with toys: Chuchundra was not there. The box was empty the next day. I calmed down and already forgot to think about the strange incident, how I fell out of the school backpack … and you yourself have already guessed who.
Since then, I have not made any attempts to get rid of the doll, but, on the contrary, even began to consider it my talisman. And, you know, she really helps me: with her I feel more confident and calmer.
Anna Mitypova
Onohoi Poltergeist
We have apartment buildings in the village, that is, there are ordinary apartments with a bathroom and central heating. My grandmother lived in one of these apartments. Granny passed away, and I inherited her home. The family council decided to make a good renovation before planning the move. In general, we hired a team of workers and began large-scale alterations: it was even decided to demolish the wall between the toilet and the bathroom and change all the plumbing.
But from the first day everything went wrong: first, a thick piece of concrete fell on the worker who was breaking the wall. The unhappy man received a concussion and was temporarily disabled. The chief in the brigade found a replacement for him - the repairs continued. But then another hard worker fell out of the blue, and even so unsuccessfully that he got a broken leg!
After this incident, a bad suspicion crept in, but that was not all. No sooner had we survived the situation with a broken leg, as, you will not believe, a representative of a window company fell out of the window. Fortunately, our apartment is on the first floor, and the man got off with only a couple of scratches. Later, the poor fellow claimed that he was literally thrown out into the street: "Something or someone grabbed my legs and pushed me." Looks like we got very superstitious workers. Neither promises to increase the fee, nor threats stopped the guys: they almost ran away from the "bad" apartment.
Finally, one muttered: “You know, it's so scary here at night that you don't want any money. Everything knocks, makes noise, and all the time it seems like someone is shuffling in the kitchen. Having spat on the panties, my wife and brothers and I decided to do the repair ourselves. Surprisingly, we, the absolute laymen in the construction business, coped with the task very quickly. Everything worked out and worked out the first time. Apparently, the grandmother simply did not want strangers to be in charge in her native nest.
Oleg Severyanov
