The village was probably really abandoned, it was dark in the windows of the houses, you could not hear the barking of dogs, the voices of people.
It was very quiet, and it made them uneasy, although they had already seen more than one abandoned village.
The girl really wanted to turn around and rush to run from here to the nearest village without looking back, she was so scared, but she understood that she was hardly able to overcome such a distance today.
Pavel dragged her by the hand to a small house at the end of the street.
The flimsy wooden door was unlocked, and they entered the dark hall. Inside there were two rooms, one of them, with a stove, apparently served the owners once as a kitchen, the second bedroom and living room.
The furniture was old, worn, but, oddly enough, there was no dust on it, and the house was cleaned. It feels like the owners have gone somewhere for a while.
For some reason it was very cold in the house, even the jacket did not save. Its good that there was firewood near the stove, and Pavel flooded the stove.
What if someone lives here, comes, and we are here? Natasha was worried. Hell report it to the police!
Dont be afraid, Pavel put his backpack on the floor and searched for something in it, No one will come. And what can we steal here? Some old things. Better click for the collection.
Natasha took a digital camera out of her bag and photographed the interior of the house.
They had dinner with canned food, which they took on the road, and went to bed. And if Pavel fell asleep quickly, then Natasha tossed and turned for a long time before falling asleep, but she didnt have to sleep for a long time.
The girl was awakened by a sound. At first Natasha did not understand what it was, she listened someone was walking outside the window.
Maybe she imagined it? But no, the sound of footsteps was distinct. It was a full moon, and in the moonlight Natasha saw a shadow flicker outside the window, then there was some kind of grinding, as if someone was driving something iron on the outer wall of the house.
Pavel, wake up! She jumped up and shook her companion by the shoulder.
Why are you yelling? «What is it?» he asked sleepily.
Someone is walking on the street!
Do not invent, who can walk here? Maybe some animal ran in from the forest. Paul always considered mysticism to be nothing more than an invention.
But I definitely heard someone walking.
She spent the rest of the night without sleep, dozing off only in the morning. In the morning they hitched a ride at the intersection where they turned into the village. The driver turned out to be talkative.
Where does the young people lead the way from? He asked, turning on the radio in the car.
«We were in a whirlwind, Natasha replied.
It was warm in the car, music was playing, and the night incident seemed like a dream.
From where? the driver looked at the girl in surprise, as if she had said something out of the ordinary.
From Vikhreev, there is a village nearby, Pavel intervened.
Dont you confuse anything, guys? the driver was surprised. Here to the nearest village about twenty kilometers, and there is nothing closer.
Then he paused, and said:
Vihreevo, something familiar.
Then he slapped the steering wheel.
I remember! Before the war, there was a village called Vikhreevo here. Here, during the war, the Germans killed almost the entire village, after the war they did not restore it, those who survived moved to other places. So you messed up, theres nowhere to spend the night. Last year I was fishing there nearby, so I only saw piles of boards and bricks on the site of houses.
The driver dropped them off at the square in the nearest village.
Maybe the uncle played a trick on us? Natasha suggested.
«We can go back and check his words,» Pavel said.
No way, said Natasha, Im not going there.
At home, the girl uploaded the photos to the computer and began to look at them.
In the photos taken in that village, there really were no houses. And instead of them there were bricks and planks.
A terrible curse. One urban legend
Preface
The hatred of a dying person will forever remain in the world of the living. And sometimes it becomes a monstrous curse from which there is no escape. The curse is worse than death itself.
Every day we do something, both good and bad.
But do we think that our every action will come back to us like a boomerang?
For good, we get happiness, health, love, and for evil, troubles and sufferings fall upon us.
The reckoning can come both on the day of the offense, and after many years.
And sometimes a terrible curse falls on a person who has committed a grave sin, which turns this persons life into a horror as black as a moonless night.
When retribution is many times more terrible than evil deeds, and when death becomes mercy. The heroes of this story considered themselves gods in life and never thought about the consequences of their actions.
Murder
1996.
The gloomy, gray sky hung low over the ground, and it seemed that it was about to crush the landings and smear passing cars on the asphalt. A fine, nasty rain was falling, and despite the fact that it was the height of summer, the northwest wind was blowing, always bringing bad weather and dampness. The weather that day was cool and chilly, like late autumn.
A Zhiguli «Six» appeared on the federal highway, driving at a fairly high speed, the car turned off the landing and then drove along a dirt road, threatening to get stuck in the mud at any second.
After driving away from the busy highway, the car stopped, and three shaven-headed, hefty lads got out of it.
Shivering from the coolness and wrapping themselves in their leather jackets, the guys walked around the car and approached the trunk.
Well, come on, Koshchey, unlock it, said one of the guys.
The one who was called Koshchei opened the trunk.
The guys saw a beaten and bloody homeless man lying in the bowels of the trunk.
One of the bandits, with obvious disgust on his face, pulled this man of indeterminate age into the light of day and with a sharp push sent him to the nearest puddle to swim.
For what? What have I done to you? What? The tramp looked hunted at his tormentors.
Shut up, you bastard! The bandit replied. «Just because youre a rotten, smelly, always drunk brute, just for that you should be sent to eternal rest.
The guys considered themselves cool, gods and thought they had the right to decide the fate of people.
Killing homeless people was their favorite pastime: no one would look for them, no one would miss them.
There was a man and there is no man. All three rushed to beat the unfortunate homeless man with their feet, trampling him into the mud.
Well, thats it, good, said one of them. Its time
A knife flashed in Koshcheis hand.
What do you say finally, eh, trash?
The tramp got up from the ground with great difficulty and knelt down, blood was flowing from his broken mouth, his nose was broken.
Bubbling and gurgling sounds came from the broken chest. The man stretched out his hands to the sky:
«May you be cursed, cursed forever, forever and ever. You will burn in the fiery Hell. And you, you son of a bitch,» the homeless man pointed his finger at the Iron Man standing in front of him with a knife, «May punishment befall you: all your relatives, all those who gave birth to you and whom you will give birth to, let them all die in suffering, as I suffered, so they will suffer for your sins, you will bury everyone!