My name is Grigory Vakulenko, I serve in the Ukrainian army. When I joined the army, I immediately realized that this was my calling, I realized that being a military man was my profession. But when I started, I could not even imagine that I would see this... After training in the army, I was almost immediately sent to the Chernobyl exclusion zone. There I was seated on a cozy sofa and forced to sit, drink beer and sometimes walk around the perimeter to check if anyone was trying to break through the fence. You may think that this is a trivial matter, for which you also receive money, I thought so too, but only for the first month of my “work”.
2 weeks later I watched movies in the evening and drank beer; today was not my duty, so while my comrades were running around the perimeter, I could relax. But suddenly, somewhere in the zone, a roar was heard, the earth shook, and 30 seconds later the sky was illuminated with a terrible blinding light. Everyone outside the building died instantly.
The next morning, the senior ranks did not answer my questions, and the others, like me, did not understand what was happening. After a couple of days, they assured us that this would not happen again and made us forget about what happened.
But after another 2 weeks, a helicopter flew into the zone, but neither the helicopter nor the crew returned on time as promised. It was decided to send a group on a search, but one person was missing, and for some reason they decided to take me in his place, despite the fact that I was not yet entirely experienced in this matter.
We took off, and half an hour later we successfully reached our destination, but as soon as we wanted to land, something strange began to happen... At first, the helicopter simply hovered in the air, the pilots tried to fly further, but some enormous force prevented the helicopter from moving from places. Then the helicopter spun at great speed, and we were thrown 50 meters forward. I and several other people fell out of the helicopter even before the “touch,” and the rest scattered to the sides along with the wreckage of the helicopter. 9 more people fell with me, the terrain was flat, there were few stones, so I and 6 of my colleagues survived, but three were unlucky and fell on the stones.
We wanted to hobble to the base, but the major forbade it, saying that we would get to the base in any case, but the commander would get angry if we didn’t bring the necessary things (as the captain said, these are some kind of documents). We argued for a long time, but our argument was interrupted by a roar, followed by a trembling of the earth. Soon the sky was illuminated with that unbearable light. We ran to the factory, under which there was supposedly an underground laboratory, which was confirmed by a sealed door. The major quickly entered the code, we entered and closed the door behind us. The major decided that we should split up. The first group, consisting of me, a major and a lieutenant, went to the left wing, and the second, consisting of 3 lieutenants, went to the right, and one remained at the entrance.
We walked along a long corridor, looking into each room along the way, and eventually came to a large door. Having opened it, we entered the room and fell into shock. There were corpses of soldiers from the previous group lying everywhere here. Almost all of them were in perfect condition, only a few were deformed, but they were all drained of blood. We were looking around the room when suddenly we heard something like snoring, we went to the source of the sound and saw the silhouette of a man. He did not respond to the call or greeting, after which we came closer and he turned to face us. We didn’t quite understand then: whether it was a person or not, he was completely covered with hair, a round skull, with an elongated chin, red eyes, claws on his legs and arms, and bloody tentacles hanging from under his mouth.
It moved away, hid in a corner and began to examine, we tried to understand who was standing in front of us, but if we were in shock, then this creature did not need to think for long, it rushed at us in an instant, grabbed the major by the throat and ran into the next room. We ran after it, but it was too late, it had already dealt with the major. The lieutenant raised the barrel and fired a burst at the creature. It recoiled and disappeared, it simply took over and dissolved. Somewhere in the distance a roar was heard, then machine gun fire and screams.
Suddenly the lieutenant's head came off his body and flew to the side. The creature materialized out of thin air behind me. It looked and growled at me. After a second it began to become transparent, and soon became completely invisible. The only thing that reminded him of him were his red, burning eyes and strange sounds reminiscent of heavy breathing. I felt it approaching me, but I quickly ran around this creature and rushed along the corridor. I heard these sounds, I understood that it was catching up and tried to run with all my might.
But suddenly a lieutenant from another group ran out from the other wing and we collided. He was raving, talking about some flying balls, but I took his hand and ran on. The creature was already catching up, I saw the door and ran towards it, but the lieutenant twitched and escaped from my hand. The creature immediately attacked him and began tearing him into pieces, while I ran into the room, locked the door and barricaded him with a closet. I heard the lieutenant’s screams, heard the creature suck the blood from his body, heard how joyfully it smacked its lips.
Soon there was a knock on the door, I heard a voice: “Hey, is there anyone? What’s going on here? Why the hell is the fly lying on the floor?..” He didn’t finish, a moment later the creature attacked him, it didn’t even kill him. She simply threw her to the ground and began to suck out the blood.
I’ve been sitting here for 5 hours, the creature has eaten and rested. But, it seems, she still remembers about me, and besides, apparently, she was hungry. I hear how she walks and taps the walls, I hear how she is looking for a way to enter the room, how she is looking for empty or weak walls. But the laboratory is only about 5 years old, the walls are still strong. But still, one thing worries me, namely, that instead of a ventilation grille in my room there is a huge hole, and now I sit and pray to God that it doesn’t think of getting into the ventilation...
Oddly enough, before the army I never believed in scary stories, or indeed in anything paranormal. But it was after an incident at my post that my worldview expanded significantly.
After my studies, I ended up in my native part, although I didn’t realize it at the time. I won’t describe my entire service with all the bullshit and vice versa, let’s just say they lied about a lot of things, they simply didn’t know about others. Although it was possible to serve. I had grandfathers - God forbid everyone. The set of guys is also adequate, one professor was worth it, a graduate student was unfinished. But more on that another time.
In general, it took a long time or a short time before my first guard duty. They put everyone in good places, but they shoved me to hell in the middle of nowhere. Guard a warehouse with felt boots and foot wraps at the very edge of the base. Not a soul around. The rest of the buildings are about fifty meters away. On the other side is a fence with a gate. There is even a checkpoint here. Only all the doors have already been welded shut; they haven’t left here for fifteen years.
And behind the fence there is a narrow country road. I don’t know where it leads. There was no interest in walking along it. I will only say that when I later asked my comrades, no one had ever seen anyone driving along it. Well, that means they put me in this half-forgotten place, it’s unclear from whom to protect me. It seems that, God forbid, felt boots are stolen at night, the entire combat effectiveness of the Russian army will drop.
They set it and set it. You don't have to choose. It was just terribly cold. After about two hours, my hands began to freeze, and I had to clench them into fists in my mittens. Well, at least there was no wind. The weather is clear, although frosty.
I look like someone is coming from that abandoned road. There was no snow yet, although it was cold, so the road was still visible. There are small gaps in the gate, and you can look through them. Really. With every minute, it becomes more and more clear that some figure is moving. He walks, seemingly limping on one leg, and in no hurry.
Later I began to distinguish that it was like a grandmother. She’s dressed poorly, it’s not clear what she’s wearing at all. It’s not even a jacket, but it looks like she’s wearing some kind of sweatshirt. He sniffs and looks at his feet. She approached the gate, and from the side where she was least seen and spoken.
- Misha, hello.
Out of surprise, I forgot the entire charter. My name is really Misha.
- Who are you?
- I'm your mother's friend. She’s really bad, I’m afraid she’ll die today. Everything is calling you.
“I only spoke to her the day before yesterday on the phone!”
- This is how it happens in life. You run to the elder. Tell me what and how.
I don’t know why I had some doubt. Apparently, he was embarrassed that an old woman had come from a dead road.
- What’s your name?
This question greatly confused the old woman. She muttered something barely audible. Slowly at first, and then faster and louder. This gibberish started to give me such a terrible headache and a feeling inside... I wanted to howl. I took off the mitten, set it to single shot, pulled the bolt and fired into the air. Everything stopped.
I look. But there is no grandmother. Just now she was standing here, but she’s no longer there. I can’t think of anything due to my excitement. Suddenly, to my right, this whisper is heard again, and so threatening. I turned around, and there was this old woman standing there, pointing her finger at me and muttering. He poked the gun at her and fired. I expected him to fall and moan. Of course. It was as if no one was there.
Our duty officer had already come running. What and how. Who shot? It's all devilry, of course, but I told him how it happened. He ran away, and ten minutes later he returned with Remza, a grandfather from my company. He replaced me. I didn’t watch to the end the first time.
We went to hand over our weapons, and he gave me two cartridges and said that nothing happened. I'm not a fool, I understood everything. I don't need any fuss myself. He came and fell asleep like a dead man.
The next day, Remza, who replaced me, calls me over. And he says, tell me what happened and how it happened. I resisted, it seemed like there was nothing. Then he was taken aback: “Did the old woman come?” It turns out that there is a terrible legend in the unit. There was a house on the site of one of the warehouses. A crazy grandmother lived there alone. Accordingly, she was evicted and given an apartment in the city, but she still did not let up. She came and asked everyone to go into the house. Even when part of it was already built.
It was rumored that she was a witch. And many years later there were cases of this grandmother appearing. Not often, and usually among young people. The authorities tried to hush them up, because it still needed to be described. And so they will ridicule, at best.
By the way, I called my mother that same day. The grandmother lied, thank God, everything was fine with her. And after that terrible story, I became friends with Remza. And in general, serving somehow became easier.
This category publishes mystical stories that happened in war or during military service, as well as stories about unusual phenomena in places of active hostilities, burials of remains, and mass graves. The main characters of the stories published in this section are most often soldiers.
This also happened in the army. I served in the Vladikavkaz border detachment from 2001 to 2003. The territory was located near the old Ossetian cemetery, and they say that the detachment itself stood in the old cemetery... So, I didn’t see this myself, but the old-timers, mostly officers, but many contract soldiers, told a lot of stories about the ghosts living there.
There was a summer soldier's swimming pool in which there was no water; it was never poured there during our service. They say that in the late 90s, when water was poured into the pool, luminous entities flying above it were seen many times at night. The guards got scared many times and opened fire... Everything disappeared after the water was released.
An incident in the army. It was in the spring, young guys (they served for 2 years), after being initiated into “Grandfathers”, decided to chase the seagull at night. We agreed with the ensign on duty in the battalion that he “does not see” them (having treated him as expected - appeasing him). We started drinking tea.
The windows in the storeroom were covered with blankets, tea was set, everything was organized for the table as it should be - bread, sugar, strong tea, lard was cut and some other relatives sent candy (the youth shared), fellow countrymen were called and the Holiday began.
There was no alcohol, they didn’t smoke cigarettes in the storeroom - the strict Sergeant Major would hit you in the neck later... Therefore, everything is civilized - a camera, parades, someone almost made an album for demobilization, and who knows what - a guitar, and songs about distant girls, about Home, about Service.
Sasha Kabanov (he changed his last name a little) and I are the same age. The first time I was in first grade I was assigned to one. Only we were never on friendly terms. Sasha was a typical mama's boy. Or rather, grandma's granddaughter. Already in the first grade, he stood out because he was too plump for a normal boy. He didn’t like outdoor games and preferred to sit at home under the tutelage of his caring grandmother instead of running around with a ball after school. I visited Sasha several times. Immense as a mountain, granny invariably treated us to pies, especially persistently serving her beloved granddaughter. And he didn’t refuse his granddaughters. While I ate one pie, Sashulya managed to eat three.
In appearance, the squat, fat man was very reminiscent of a well-fed pig.
Several years ago I had the opportunity to visit distant relatives on the Volga. I had never been to that village before. We talked very rarely. The old fashioned way, by letters. And then I decided to visit my Volga and Chuvash relatives. Well, I also stopped by this distant village.
The village people are simple, unsophisticated. With such people you quickly come into intimate contact. Especially with rustic homemade beer and moonshine. At the evening feast, the military topic accidentally came up in conversation. No wonder - in the family where I was staying, there were three front-line soldiers - three siblings. Was. Now everyone is dead. Although, maybe not everything... But first things first.
In the midst of the conversation, the mistress of the house opened the lid of a forged chest in the corner of the room and took out into the light of God... a chain mail shirt!
The incident is described according to the story of my uncle, a front-line soldier, Georgy.
A fighter named Yakov served in their mortar division. Well, as a fighter... Of course, he had a gun. But it still didn’t work out to shoot. And Yasha wasn’t particularly eager to fight. He was assigned to the horses. That’s why he sat away from the front line during hot moments. Not to mention hand-to-hand combat with a fierce enemy. In addition, mortar men have other tasks.
Despite his relatively safe military duty, Yasha was constantly dressed in bandages. Either his horse will bite him, or his horse will step on his foot, or he will be hit by a cart... A sufferer, in a word. And he was also a whiner.
The incident was told by my uncle, a front-line soldier, Georgy.
During the Great Patriotic War, mortarman Georgy was wounded in the hospital. There he became friends with his peer from an infantry regiment, who was also healing from battle wounds. This infantryman told his new comrade an unusual story that happened quite recently.
A young fighter from a distant Siberian village served in their infantry regiment. Georgy didn’t remember his name, it was quite simple. Let it be Ivan. The guy is extremely brave. I didn’t hide from bullets or shrapnel. During artillery shelling and bombing, he calmly smoked a cigarette, laughing at his comrades flopping in the dust and dirt. He was always the first to attack and fought in close combat like an angry bear.
Good day, dear readers, I want to say right away that I did not believe in all this supernatural until that moment. The story that happened to me is real and defies any explanation, no matter how much I look for logical explanations for it. I was 20 years old, after graduating from university, I, like all students, was drafted into the army in order to repay my debt to the country, but since I graduated from a university and studied at the military department, I joined the army with the rank of lieutenant.
I and two other fellow students ended up in a unit that is located in the south of Azerbaijan; I will not write the unit number and location, I will only say that this area is located next to the resort area. So, our military unit was located about a hundred meters from the old dilapidated part of the internal troops. The abandoned military unit was almost in ruins, but the barracks, food block and a couple of storage rooms still remained. As a lieutenant, I had under my command a small detachment of nine privates and one sergeant.
By the way, when I first entered the abandoned part, I felt uneasy: everything was broken, tumbled down, broken, there were fragments of windows everywhere, well, I really felt somehow uneasy, and such an unpleasant feeling appeared, even in the daytime. Since this is a strategic military facility, it must be guarded by either a patrol or a person on duty, who changes every 2 hours.
Before this, they told me all sorts of horror stories, they say, there, in 1976, in the barracks, 40 soldiers hanged themselves from a ceiling beam in one night: they said that there were ghosts and phantoms, and other nonsense of such content, well, somehow I really treated it all with a grin, or something.
I would like to describe the unit to you, so that you, dear readers, have a little idea: the parade ground was in the middle of the unit, the barracks was on the far side of the unit, the medical station was on the right side of the checkpoint. That is, she was not so big, well, and not small, as you understand.
It was 10 o'clock in the evening when I began to wake up the private so that he could take up his post; the soldiers served before my arrival, well, for about 5 months, no more.
He wakes up with a fright, standing at attention; I give the order to get dressed and go to the combat post - he was scalded: he began to beg me not to go to the post, began to waste everything on his health, allegedly felt unwell, tried in every possible way to avoid serving.
Well, this won’t work for me, I know how to convince - let’s move forward. Since the walk from our unit to that ill-fated one was 100 meters, a conversation ensued. The private tried not to accept the post until the last moment. Lord, no matter what he offered, no matter what he told me, he begged me to stay on duty with him, otherwise, after I left, he promised to leave his post and run away. I decided to keep watch with him, and at that moment I was so worried that I didn’t want to sleep at all.
Yes, I forgot to say, when I left the rest room, there were a couple of officers there, one of whom was both a local resident and served in the unit on a long-term basis. He says after him: “Good luck to you, just you,” he says, “make sure you don’t screw it up.” The words hurt, of course, well, as they did, it became unpleasant. I nodded and said, “We’ll talk later,” and left the room.
Let's get back to the fact that the private is begging, almost crying. To be honest, subconsciously I thought: “Why is he killing himself so much, it cannot be that because of 2 hours of fasting a person would humiliate himself so much and be ready to do literally anything in order not to stand at his post,” flashed through my mind in my head, and God bless him.
We approached the place of the old checkpoint, some kind of fuss was heard in the checkpoint room. “Rats,” I thought, but, to be honest, I was shocked.
You had to stand 10 meters from the control gate (checkpoint). The room was very dirty: there was nowhere to sit or stand. So, my gavrik is standing, well, and I am with him, and I just wondered why he was killing himself so much.
We are standing, and the darkness is terrible, well, not counting the light from the lamp that hangs on the pole: the only source of light. Well, of course, we have lanterns, but still the barracks are not illuminated, only a small space - that’s all. I hear water flowing from a tap in the courtyard of the unit: the trickle is small, but it echoes and is audible enough. I ask him to go and turn off the tap so that it doesn’t get on my nerves, and then he almost hits me: “I won’t go. Kill me, I won’t go.” I was timid, to be honest, and already gave the order: “Get up, go, close it!” Well, the crane is not that far away, although you can’t see it because it’s so dark. He turns on the flashlight and slowly, as if about to be shot, trudges into the darkness. At the same time, he talks to me, saying, “Can you see me here?” Naturally, I guide him with the light of a flashlight. “Yes, I see you, go close it, I’m here - don’t be afraid.”
I hear him close the valve, judging by the sound it was already rusty, because there was such a creaking and grinding sound. “Did you close it?” I shouted. “Yes, yes,” he shouted, and I see him running back. I looked, he was all wet: he was sweating so much, as if he had just been on a forced march, he was so short of breath. “It’s strange,” I thought, “so how can you be afraid?”
Well, we lit a cigarette, we stood under the light of a light bulb, I even looked at the time: it was 22:50. We smoke, we can hear the howling of dogs and owls, and we are like two poplars on Plyushchikha. I heard the grinding of that same tap, and the water flowed again, a thin trickle. He broke into a sweat, his eyes became so big, he looked at me, a cigarette in his mouth. Without thinking twice, I say: “Can’t you close the tap normally, are you stupid?” He answered - not a word, just silence, and not a sound. I’m starting to get nervous, to be honest, and I think: “Well, he was probably in such a hurry that he didn’t screw it properly,” - it happens when you’re in a hurry, you do everything wrong.
I tell him: “Come back and screw it up like it’s supposed to.” He is in tears, and this time, he begs.
I had to go myself. Well, you really peer into the darkness, and it becomes so creepy, especially since it’s unpleasant to be there even during the day, but here, imagine, it’s night—you can’t help but poke out your eyes. Now I’m trudged along, of course, terribly, but I’m a commander, I’m an example, and my own thoughts are scattered, I can’t get myself together, but I have to. I reached the tap; Having turned on the flashlight, I move the light randomly in different directions, well, and the private shouts to me: “I’m covering you here!” He covers me, but this cover doesn’t make me feel any better, well, that’s not the point. I simply closed the valve and knocked it out with a bayonet. I walked back at a fast pace, since my back was to all this darkness and gloom. I got to Gavrik and said: “This is how it should be done.” Then he told me: “You’re great, you weren’t afraid.” I answer: “Why be afraid, this is all fiction and nonsense about ghosts and spirits,” and at that moment the checkpoint door slammed with such force, I really jumped. She is 7-10 meters away - such a noise, I jumped away. This one has been removed from the safety lock and is standing white and white. I'm sure I didn't look any better. And then he says in a whisper: “Don’t say that it’s all nonsense.” I answer in a whisper the same way he addressed me: “I won’t.” The door swings and quietly hits the iron counter. He plucked up courage, walked over and covered it, placing it tightly in the place of the doorway.
Somehow the thought even flashed through my mind: “She’s sitting so tightly, but there’s no wind,” well, you know, I tried in every possible way to drive these thoughts out of my head.
About 10 minutes passed, and then it began: the grinding of the same tap, the valve of which is in my pocket. Without thinking twice, I point the flashlight at the approximate location of the tap, and then the grinding immediately stops. I started cursing, thinking that they were trying to prank me. I began to threaten that I would open fire to kill (by the way, those who served will understand me perfectly: it is a strategic object, and I have the right to open fire to kill). So I scream and yell into the darkness in hysterics. No matter how much I swore, no matter how much I screamed, the result was zero: nothing, no one, but noises began to be heard. The soldier asks to be silent, I began to order him to shoot into the darkness. Thank God he didn't listen to me. I was just seized with panic, moans began to be heard, real moans. I couldn’t understand where, who, there were so many of them, we backed away, moved about 30 meters away, everything became quiet and calm.
The time has come to change the guard, I don’t let him go: “Stay with me, we won’t leave until I find out what you’re up to here.” I involuntarily thought: “I’m a new officer,” they told me a story and started scaring me. It’s such a simple activity.” Okay, but how can you open a faucet without a valve, rusty and crumpled? Yes, okay, you can do this, but it’s unrealistic to hide in 1-2 seconds while I was pointing the flashlight in place... and groans from each of the rooms of the unit... I can’t say that they were heard so clearly, but not only I heard them, but and private. Everything was confused in my head.
Suddenly, a voice came from our unit, saying that Lieutenant So-and-so introduced himself - my soldier and I forgot about all the military laws (“stop whoever is coming,” warning, etc.) I found out, and it made me so happy. As I said above, this was the same officer who lived in this area. I was really glad to see him. Farid (that was his name) saw our faces, the cold sweat that literally bathed me. The only phrase he said: “I told you so, but you didn’t want to believe it.” I tried to control myself, but there is a limit to everything, and, apparently, this limit was exhausted. The three of us witnessed footsteps being heard on the parade ground at half past twelve. Nothing was visible, but the steps were distinct; they could not have come from our unit, since it was lights out time. You know, I even stopped looking in my head for a logical explanation for everything that was happening.
Farid looked into the darkness and reacted calmly. I saw no panic or fear in him. I clutched the bayonet and flashlight so tightly that my hand went numb. Literally 5 minutes later it was all over, the steps stopped, there were no more groans and the doors closed, as they had been closed until the very moment when it all began. Oh yes, and the water stopped flowing.
The three of us looked into the darkness, and I imagined how those 40 soldiers must have suffered and for what reason all this happened to them. The fear remained, but it no longer took hold of me, I was simply painfully sorry for those souls who torment and cannot find peace for themselves. I thought what could push them to do such an act, to take such a terrible sin on their souls and forever wander around the rooms of the unit. Since I am an Orthodox person, I suggested asking the priest to clear the place of spirits or read prayers in order to calm the souls of the dead. Farid, returning, said that it was useless. After we returned, I fell asleep soundly (slept all day, it’s strange that the commander didn’t say a word to me), just like the private who was with me that night.
Afterwards I spoke with the unit commander about this. He grinned, such a smile: “Eh, boy.” The case in part N is closed, no one knows anything, since the reports and archival data were burned in a fire. Just like that!
You know, that night I changed my opinion about the supernatural, I realized that not everything is as simple and complex in our lives as we would like to think. Yes, my soldiers and I were no longer sent to that post, but I often walked past that place and cast my gaze at the buildings and the parade ground. When I quit, I went there and asked for forgiveness from the soldiers who, for some unknown reason, gave their lives, of their own or not of their own free will. No one will know the secret of what happened on January 4, 1976.
Thanks for reading, all the best to you. Sorry if anything is wrong, I told everything as it happened, or, more correctly, everything I remembered.
This story happened to me back in 1991-1993, when I served in the army. I left to serve in the USSR, and ended my service in the CIS. The service took place in the steppe on the territory of the former Soviet republic. It consisted in the fact that we went on combat duty for a week, then lived in the barracks for a week - and this was the case all the time. The duty consisted of two soldiers living in a house in the steppe at a distance of 30 to 70 km from the “base” and guarding the facility. The duty was always calm, because... The object itself is of no use to anyone.
The danger was that bad people might covet our weapons, and these were: a pair of Kalash, a PKT (Kalashnikov tank machine gun) with a spare barrel and mines for the Cactus system minefield. The rest is not life, but raspberries. You are a week away from your bosses, you have a refrigerator, a stove and a lot of food. You are in relative safety (around the guard there are various fences + electric mesh, on the windows there are anti-grenade nets and armored curtains). In general, it’s a soldier’s paradise. Once the commander was distributing the soldiers among guards, and the turn came to the third guard. The major calls 2 names, and I hear the soldiers refuse to join the database (and this is at least a disbat), the commander calls two other names - and again a refusal. This is repeated several times. The officer asks the reason for the refusal.
Everyone starts talking about some kind of devilry. Then the commander turns to me and my fellow countryman Vitka: “Are you informals from Moscow?” “Yes.” “You don’t care?” “Yes.” “Here you go!” We went to change this guard. The guardhouse itself is a separate house, in which there are several adjacent rooms: a bedroom 3x1.5 m, a kitchen 2x2 m and a room with a tracking console 4x3 m. The entrance to the guardroom was through a hatch (located 30 m from the guardhouse) and underground corridor.
To get into the guard, I need to request power from the inside, then a person dials a code from outside, then (if the code is correct) the “wheel-bolt” for opening the hatch starts rotating on the inside, and the alarm goes off, both in our guard and in the "center". Next, a person descends into this hatch 3 m deep and walks along a concrete underground tunnel for about 30 m, then climbs an iron ladder and comes out (as if from under the floor of the room) with a remote control. We arrive at the guardhouse and see that circles are drawn on the floor with chalk (just like in the movie “Viy”). Well, we ask the guys we are replacing what this garbage is. “And you will find out,” the guys answer sarcastically and rush to the exit.
Still, we slow them down and ask them to tell us what’s going on here. And here is the story of Slava Pomortsev. One evening I was sitting at the console, writing a letter home, and Kolyan (partner) was sleeping in the bedroom. Suddenly I hear some wheezing coming from the bedroom. I'm running there. I run in and see: Kolyan is lying on the bed with his eyes closed, he is blue, and his cross is hanging in the air on a rope, and some unknown force is trying to break the rope, thereby suffocating Kolyan. As soon as I appeared in the doorway, everything stopped. And such devilry happens here every day. “Well, you’ll find out everything yourself,” Slavik added and drove into the Kamaz. Vitko and I looked at each other and started laughing.
Looks like the guys made the brew on some kind of magic herb, or maybe they smoked something? In short, they went on duty calmly and happily forgot about all sorts of horrors. 3 days have passed. Life on guard went on as usual and nothing supernatural happened. The fourth day came. It was about 4-5 o'clock on a February evening. The sun began to set, but it was still light outside.
Vitka and I are sitting in the bedroom and playing cards. And then we heard something that made the cards freeze in our hands. We heard STEPS. These were not simple human steps - these were the steps of something. Let me remind you: we are sitting walled up in a house, and around us there is a whole system of fences with sensors and alarms, and it is IMPOSSIBLE to enter the guardhouse without our help. The only entrance is a hatch that opens from the inside, and at the same time the alarm goes off. And then we clearly hear footsteps. The steps were rare and very, very heavy. They were reminiscent of the film "The Stone Guest". It was as if something multi-ton was going on. What or who it was - I don’t know, but IT was approaching. The steps walked the entire underground tunnel (30 m) and began to climb the metal stairs in the next room. From the bedroom we couldn’t see WHAT had crawled out “from under the floor” - and I didn’t feel any particular desire to look. Then I shouted: - Drum! Fuck you! And this SOMETHING began to go down the stairs back down. Then the steps began to move away along the corridor in the opposite direction. And soon everything became quiet.
We sat there dumbfounded. The worst thing is that not a single light bulb was on in this underground tunnel, and our toilet was located just at the other end of the tunnel. He was where SOMETHING came from and then where SOMETHING went. I didn't want to go there at all. Well, as they say, the morning is wiser than the evening. So we, having slept that night, cheered up the little ones. And the morning sun and a plentiful hot breakfast smoothed out the troubles of yesterday. The duty ended normally, and we began to forget this nightmare.
Everything would be fine if it weren't for the trifle. Our fathers-commanders left us on guard for another 4 weeks. Apparently they couldn't find a replacement for us. Once a week they brought us dry rations and bread with eggs. During these five weeks, everything was more or less calm, except for a couple of cases. One day I was sitting at night at the monitoring console and writing letters. The partner was snoring peacefully in the next room. The Versha radio was tuned to some kind of radio wave. This wave was followed by the night program “Country Hour” - music upon request. I’m sitting, calmly writing a letter, the music is playing slowly, the lights on the remote control are glowing welcomingly and squeaking very quietly. And then I fall asleep.
I put my head on the remote control and began to smoke. After a while I woke up. Or rather, I was awakened by someone’s hoarse breathing behind me. But what the hell? It was as if I was paralyzed. I could hear the walkie-talkie playing, the remote control beeping, out of the corner of my eye I saw a dark silhouette behind me and heard his intermittent, hoarse breathing. I saw and heard everything, but could not move. At the same time, I was not afraid. Gathering all my strength into a fist, I tensed my left hand and pushed my right hand. From this push, my right hand flew off the console like a whip and hit the stool with a roar. And immediately everything became quiet. No, not like that. The breathing died down, and the music on the walkie-talkie and the lights on the remote control continued to disturb the silence of the night guard.
Another time, the armored curtains began to open and technical documentation fell out of the box. Otherwise, the guard was quiet and peaceful. The most interesting thing is that a year before I sat on this guard several times, and everything was quiet and smooth. It is unclear to me what served as the catalyst for the activity of unknown forces. Thanks to everyone who read to the end. I'm not much of a writer. Z.Y. The story is pure truth. And I am a participant.
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