Konstantin Gorbenko from Donetsk region reports:
- I am 37 years old. I am not an alcoholic or a drug addict. What happened to me is not hallucinations or dreams. In 1983, our family moved to the apartment in which we live to this day.
Looking ahead, I will say that after that wild incident, my mother and I interviewed our housemates and learned the most unpleasant thing. We, unfortunately, knew nothing about her when we entered the apartment. If they knew about her in advance, they would never have moved here from the old apartment.
And the following turned out in conversations with neighbors. A young married couple lived in the apartment, and the woman was very beautiful. Her husband was constantly jealous of her. And then one day he brutally beat the beauty for alleged infidelity. Disfigured her face. The next morning, a young beauty - more precisely, now a former beauty - prepared poison and poured it into a glass of tea. And then she served the deadly drink to her husband. He drank tea and died on the spot.
During the investigation, the prosecutor's office unequivocally established by fingerprinting: it was the wife who poisoned her husband, and not he himself. Having sent her hubby to the other world, the former beauty took a coil of electrical wire, attached the wire to the hook on which the chandelier hung in the room, and hung herself on that wire. It happened less than a month before the moment when a warrant was issued to my mother to move into this apartment.
“A couple of days after my mother and I moved here,” Konstantin Gorbenko continues his story, “I suddenly woke up in the middle of the night. A female voice woke me up, either humming something inarticulate, or simply howling. I opened my eyes and … was stunned !!!
I see a woman in a nightgown hanging from the ceiling, hanging from a wire looped around her throat. The face turned blue. She convulsively wriggles in the air and tries to put the fingers of both hands under the loop that squeezed her neck. But she fails to do so. Suddenly her hands fell down, and she, with the last twitch of her whole body, at once went limp and somehow unnaturally stretched out.
And then, - recalls Konstantin, - the worst began. The woman who hung herself opened her mouth and began to sing. I again heard the same howl, vaguely similar to a song, that woke me up. The woman suddenly opened her eyes and, slightly tilting her head, looked at me point-blank. Her body began to sway …
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The amplitude of the oscillations became wider. Her bare leg touched my face. My toes moved and, to my complete and utter horror, my thumb and forefinger suddenly gripped my nose, gripping it tightly.
The body of the hanged woman hung obliquely in the air. From above it was held by a loop at the throat of a wire thrown over a hook in the ceiling. And from below … Below was my nose, into which this gallows grabbed with her toes. I shout like a good obscenity: "Ma-ma-ah!.."
And at that very second, the "vision" disappeared. I put the word "vision" in quotation marks because I very clearly felt a severe pain in my nose when the gallows girl squeezed it with her toes like a clothespin.
At Constantine's cry, his alarmed mother came running from the next room. And she, in turn, screamed. For she saw - the whole bed of her son was covered with blood. The blood was bright red, fresh, so to speak; she has not yet had time to curl up.
The mother rushed to her beloved child and began to feel, examine his body. Where does the blood come from? To her great amazement, she did not find a single scratch on Kostya's body. No blood came out of the nose either, even though the hanged aunt treated that nose more than disrespectfully.
The source of the origin of blood has not been established.
- The next day, late in the evening, - says Konstantin Gorbenko, - I was lying on the same bed in the absence of another bed and, as you yourself understand, was afraid to fall asleep. I was tormented by the question: will that howling bitch with a noose around her neck appear in front of me this night too, or not?
I remember I closed my eyelids thinking about it. After a couple of minutes I open my eyes and - oh god! A woman stands in front of me in a wide white cloak, similar to a wedding dress. Instead of a head - something like an oval haze; no face. I hear a woman's voice: "Did you call me?"
I myself do not know why, I say in response: "I want to live." And the lady in white clothes melted into thin air. And a certain weight fell on me. Unbeknownst to me, what pushed me into bed so that the bed creaked.
During the week after these horrible events, I felt surprisingly ill. Actually, I am a very healthy person. I was tormented by a feeling of weakness in the whole body, strange weakness, aches in the ruts and elbows. Headaches were also annoying.
From the book by A. Priima "At the Crossroads of Two Worlds"