Stories from grandma in the village. A village horror story told by grandma

My grandmother on my mother’s side, Anastasia Fedorovna, was born in 1947 in the village of Zhuravkino, Zubovo-Polyansky district of Mordovia. The village was located on the territory Mordovian Moksha, which have their own dialect, unlike Erzya, where Mordovian speech is slightly different. Speaking of language, Dutch words remind my mother of Mordovian. Of course, the differences between Moksha and Erzya were not only in speech, but also, for example, in clothing, but this will be discussed later.

Grandmother had 4 brothers and one sister - large families were commonplace at that time. Talking about life in the village, the grandmother said that they used soda and ash for washing, salt for brushing their teeth (they brushed with their fingers), and washed their hair with scented milk, the one that was left over from the production of cream. Grandma says that she washed her hair once a week and her hair was silky, and she did not use any face creams. Neither my grandmother nor her mother used cosmetics. Although my grandmother said that there was one girl in the village who loved to preen herself - she painted her face with starch, her cheeks with beets, and her eyebrows with soot. However, I did not specify whether men liked that girl. There was also cologne in the village - well-known to everyone: “Carnation”, “Chypre” and “Triple”. Female version The perfume was “Red Poppy”.

In the village, not all products could be bought, and what was possible to buy was made with their own hands in order to save money. For example, felt boots were made by ourselves, although they were sold on the market. Usually, felt felters went from house to house and asked who needed felt boots. Then they stayed in one house in the village and everyone brought orders there. You could also buy clothes at the market, although my grandmother’s mother knew how to sew and sewed not only for her family, but also to order for her neighbors.

New Year was not so popular in the village. Christmas and Easter were especially celebrated. Epiphany and patronal feasts were also celebrated - those designated by the village church. In Kovylkino, such temple holidays were celebrated on November 21, December 22, as well as on the 6th day of Easter - the “life-giving source”.

In winter, at Epiphany, all the women went out with their children in the morning, and the men sprinkled them with snow. Grandma said that they could have “sprinkled snow with shovels.” It’s hard for me to imagine this, but the granny continued with a smile: “Two men used to lead a woman from both sides, and with the snow, she didn’t want to go, but they dragged her.”

Trinity, which is celebrated in the summer and always on Sunday, began to be celebrated on Saturday. The girls gathered, broke thin birch trees and made gates out of them, this was done in a clearing, and festivities took place there. On Monday, the “tenants” came out, also made gates from birch trees, took tables out into the street, moonshine, wine, food - whoever had what, and celebrated. Grandmother said that there were only women (yes, wine and moonshine are only for women), because Trinity is a women's holiday. “But of course,” said the grandmother.

I haven't visited my grandma for a long time. All the time was occupied first by study, then by work. And I devoted the time I had free from these matters to my personal life, so I never thought about visiting my beloved grandmother. And then one day, while on vacation, I finally decided to visit her, especially since it was the beginning of summer season. I thought just loved one I'll visit you, and at the same time fresh air I'll breathe. Quickly getting ready and taking a ticket, I went to the village, which was located in Siberia. I didn’t inform her about my arrival, so my person after so many years was a surprise for her, but a joyful surprise. The last time I was here was when I was a child, and then twice - mostly she came to visit us.

Grandma thoroughly treated me to delicious pancakes, piping hot, and hot tea, after which we talked a little about this and that. And since it was already getting close to night, grandma went to bed, having first made my bed and told me not to stay too long. To which I replied that I wanted to take a little walk. And as always, grandma did not fail to complain: “You won’t understand, young people - like a magnet, or something, you are drawn to the street at night...”. After groaning and grumbling a little, she finally went to bed. I finished my tea and went outside.

The coolness of the street in the late evening enveloped my entire body, and I, cowering, began to wander around the village, immersed in my thoughts. And, apparently, she was so lost in these thoughts that she did not notice how she ended up at the end of the street. In many villages there are one or two huts on the outskirts, and this village was no exception; there was also a hut on the outskirts closer to the forest. No, she was not scary and wretched, but her appearance reeked of some kind of loneliness and melancholy. It was clear that no one lived there, since all appearance I talked about it at home. The fence was rickety here and there, one window was broken, the paint was peeling off in some places, and the yard didn’t scream about being well-kept.

I don’t know why, but I suddenly had a strong desire to look into the hut and see its internal appearance. Having opened the gate with a terrible creaking - creaks and rustles haven’t scared me for a long time, so I didn’t pay much attention to it - I walked further into the yard. When I approached the house, I was surprised to find that the house was not locked. Pushing the door forward, I found myself inside the hut. There was no musty smell, there was no feeling of dampness or coolness, on the contrary, the house was cozy and warm, and it smelled like... pies?! This surprised me greatly. After all, when I looked at this house from the outside, I did not at all get the impression that someone lived here. And when I was inside, everything said that this was not so. I wasn’t scared at all - rather, it all just surprised me.

On the chest of drawers, which I approached, there was a candelabra with three candles; I struck a lighter and lit them. It became a little brighter in the hut. I ran my hand over the chest of drawers - dust remained on my palm. Consequently, no one has really lived in the house for a long time, or it simply has careless owners. But this comfort and the aroma of baking, soaring in the atmosphere of the room, did not speak at all about the second assumption. I sat down at the table and thought. In general, I was in such a state as if I was sleeping, I was so fascinated by all this.

A few minutes later, the door to the hut opened with a roar and in walked... a gray-haired old woman with a miniature body structure, wearing a dark chintz dress and a green scarf. She continued to walk towards the adjacent room and, passing me, said: “Why are you, daughter, sitting alone, bored - look, if you want, help yourself to the pies, they are in the oven.” I didn’t say anything, I just sat there, frozen, and watched. And when she disappeared into another room, she just said in a weak voice: "Thank you". And she continued to sit like that for probably another five minutes. Then, as if waking up from a trance, I automatically went to the stove and saw there... I didn’t see anything there, only an empty clay vessel, half split. Quickly turning around and entering the room where the old woman had hidden to ask her why she was joking like that, I saw absolutely no one in the room. What games? True, I didn’t look under the bed - I don’t think she’s at that age to hide there, and why?..

Leaving the room, I noticed a movement near the stove, but since the room was not well lit, I could not clearly see what was the source of the movement. As I came closer, I immediately jumped back. Looking at me... some furry miracle-yudo in the form of a black lump with beady eyes emerald color. Not a cat, not a dog, not a rat. Well, there are no such creatures. I don’t know how long we studied each other like this, as if rooted to the floor from surprise. But then “it” sneezed (well, at least that’s what the sound seemed like to me) and darted into the same room from which I had left. This time my nerves were not enough, and I quickly jumped out of the hut and ran straight to my grandmother’s house.

Entering the house, I undressed and went to bed - but what the hell is sleep?! He didn't match anyone's eyes. So I lay there, tossing and thinking, for probably about three hours. And only having calmed down a little, I was able to fall asleep, having taken my grandmother’s infusion before that.

In the morning, barely opening my eyes, I walked to the washbasin, and then to the kitchen. Grandma was already setting the table. Having sat down at the table, she immediately began to tell her about what happened at night. She listened to me attentively, without interrupting. And when I finished, I said: “I can’t give you an exact explanation, the only thing I can say is that the old woman who lived in that house died years ago. She had some abilities, they knew that she could treat people, she made various decoctions and lotions. But she didn’t harm people, she only helped to the best of her knowledge and capabilities. But she died hard and did not allow anyone to approach her. Before she felt bad, she wrote a note saying that when she died, no one dared to approach her. Three days later she died.

They buried her in the cemetery, which is located in the forest outside the village. But the villagers also noticed that something was wrong with the house. One day, just like you, at night (only the purpose of his visit was different), one villager came into the house in order to profit from something left unattended, and just as quickly flew out of there with the words: “My spirit will not be here anymore!” . After that I became a stutterer. At first they didn’t believe him, but later two other men visited the house in the same way at night. After this visit, they also avoid this home. And they all claimed that the house felt cozy and aroma of baking. That they saw both the old woman and the black lump. But during the day, when you enter the hut, you see only dusty objects and smell dampness, and the whole view from the inside is somehow abandoned, which cannot be said at night. After all these events, people decided not to go to the hut anymore, but to bypass it, let it settle and rot over time, and then fall apart.”

Of course, my grandmother scolded me that, because of my curiosity, I also go where I shouldn’t. After listening to her a little more, I still decided to take a walk to this house again and look at its view from the inside during the day. I didn’t say anything to grandma and walked towards the outskirts of the village.

Finding myself next to the house, I stomped around the gate for a bit, and then decisively stepped into the yard. The same creak notified the house that it was in Once again decided to visit. Having walked through the yard and entered the house, I actually discovered what granny had previously told me: an unremarkable hut, dust everywhere, and not the same as at night, but more dense, or something; everything is old, no aroma of baking, just stale air. Walking around the room again, I didn’t find anything new, and nothing strange either. An abandoned house is like an abandoned house.

Having gone out into the street and reaching the road, I turned around again to look at last time to a hut, strange and somehow alluring with its inexplicable mystery. When my gaze fell on the window, which was broken at the top, I saw in it... the same elderly gray-haired old woman in a green scarf. There was no malice or reproach in her gaze, but only some kind of old sadness. I closed my eyes in surprise and opened my eyes again. There was no one at the window anymore. Shaking my head, I went to my grandmother’s house, simultaneously convincing myself that it was just my imagination. I didn't say anything to my grandmother.

This was in the late 80s of the last century. Twenty years have passed since then, and I still remember that house and its sad old lady.

So, my grandmother is very superstitious person believes in brownies, goblins, etc. I remember that in the evenings my grandmother always spoiled us with village fables. And then one summer day, grandma told us a story about her meeting with a brownie. This happened winter evening, Granny, after a hard day in the village, finally went to rest, fell asleep instantly, and as she said, she woke up from a strange feeling: it seemed as if someone was looking at her from the darkness.

She looked around at no one, and then tried to fall asleep, but the presence of the gaze on herself did not disappear, on the contrary, it intensified. Granny opens her eyes, and in the aisle between the beds stands a tall creature, as she said, all covered with fur. (I still remember, I laughed so much, grandma thought it was my grandfather, she even called him, saying, “Kol, is that you?” But she didn’t hear an answer). So she stands there, looking and putting her hands to her throat, but strashno.com my fighting granny was not taken aback and screamed: “Go to hell!” And the creature stamped its foot, hooted and disappeared. Then the rooster crowed - it’s time to get up.

Grandma told grandfather everything, but he only twisted it at his temple.

The day passed calmly with household chores, everything seemed to be forgotten. We sat down to dinner. The lights in the village are often turned off and this evening was no exception. Granny set the table and went into the kitchen to get salt. While she was pouring salt into the salt shaker, she heard wheezing. I called out to my grandfather - silence. She runs into the dining room, and grandfather is all blue, barely breathing - he has choked. Grandma, let’s save him, she stuck her hand down his throat, grandfather began to bite his hand involuntarily, the pain was hellish, as she said. He then bit her hand right through, so she barely managed to get a piece of meat and saved her grandfather. The strangest thing is that when the grandfather began to breathe, the grandmother said - the breeze blew strashno.com and the door slammed, and in the light of a candle on the door she saw a shadow... with a scythe. Apparently death came for him, but his grandmother did not let him be taken away.

The grandmother immediately remembered that night creature, apparently it came to warn the grandmother that grandfather was in danger.

Olga Bannykh
A series of stories for children “At Grandma’s in the Village”

How I lost all my chickens grandmothers

When I was visiting in the summer village, I had to help a lot grandparents since they had farming: there were a lot of pets animals: cow, piglet, hens and chicks. In the summer, during haymaking, the adults went to the field to mow the grass, and I, already matured, ten years old, were left at home. They assigned me several simple tasks: clean up the house, feed the chickens, take the chickens out into the box into the clearing and watch them so that the kite doesn’t carry them away or the cats scare them. One day, after redoing everything, I went to “walk” the chickens. Hoping that nothing had happened to the chickens before, and that I was just wasting my time sitting in the clearing with toys near them, I decided to go into the garden to eat some cherries. Satisfied with myself and because I had such an opportunity to calmly eat berries, I wandered around the garden. Suddenly, I heard the frightened squeak of chickens. I rushed out into the street as fast as I could, and oh, horror! The net from the box was moved, a hole was dug under the box, and the chickens scattered along the street, trying to hide in secluded place from neighbor's dog. Trying to catch the chickens, I scared them even more. They hid in the tall nettles near the hedge and, running to the garden, disappeared under the fence. I tried in vain all day to catch the chickens from their hiding place. Frightened, they did not trust anyone. I waited with fear for my arrival Grandmothers and grandfathers. When they arrived, I hid in the bird cherry tree and did not agree to come down from there. She came down only when the grandfather had already found all the chickens at dusk. I asked: “Why were they afraid of me, but not him?” Grandfather answered: “Yes, they just can’t see anything at dusk and that’s why they don’t run away, but sit still.” Grandmother My grandfather and I didn’t scold me, but I realized my guilt. I realized that in addition to pleasure, there is also responsibility, especially if it concerns living beings.

When we were children, we often went to visit our grandmother in the village. Everyone in the village claimed that she was a witch and ran to her for potions and other magical nonsense. But she didn’t deny it and always helped the residents. We, being children, did not attach any importance to this. There were five of us: Me, Timur, Sasha, Masha and Evgenia. It was more interesting for us to listen to grandmother's stories and swim in the river.

There was a small cave not far from the cemetery. Anyone who climbs into it will be cured of any disease, but after 5 minutes consciousness is lost. We really enjoyed our time there. Half an hour later we woke up so rested that it seemed that we had slept not for thirty minutes, but all night without our hind legs.

And I had prophetic dreams in this cave; I don’t remember a single one that didn’t come true. And how Timur broke his leg on a bicycle, and how an oak branch, a second before I take the next step, breaks and falls right in front of me. A lot of things were happening. This cave served as an attraction for us, and grandma asked not to take anyone to it and not to talk about it again. And we didn’t chat, but not because grandmother prohibited us, but because it was Our place.

However, as happens with everyone, we grew up, moved away and lost touch. We did not contact and did not look for each other. Childhood is over, and our friendship goes with it. That's what we thought.

One night I saw my grandmother in a dream. She told me that she died. That her youngest nephew, the deceased, drove her to the grave. The spirit came and did dirty tricks, everyone wanted to find out where her witch records were kept.

I woke up with the strange feeling that I had actually just spoken to her. This feeling was so real that I, without hesitating for a second, got ready to go to the village.

Upon arrival there, I saw my old comrades, already matured, but no less puzzled. We were all standing in front of the dilapidated old house where we spent our childhood. It was awkward for us to start a conversation, however, Timur decided to break the silence:

I understand correctly: grandma came to everyone

- *nod silently*

And what will we do?

Let me let you in - an old voice came from behind. We were scared, but it turned out to be only the elder sister of our deceased grandmother. It was as if she knew we were coming. I was waiting for us to get together again - I have something for you.

She let us into the house and went somewhere deeper into the house while we looked around and indulged in nostalgia. A couple of minutes later she returned, holding a small box in her hands. She opened the box and took out a piece of paper with a message, which she handed over to the person closest to her - Masha. Masha unfolded the piece of paper and read:

“Hello, my grandchildren! I have been waiting for this moment for a long time, but now it has come: I am on the verge of death and the reason for this is my nephew, who inherited our family gift. Being alive, I shared it with each of you. My nephew wants to get everything that I have collected throughout my life and take over all the knowledge and power. Since you are my only heirs, very soon he will come for you, I can feel it. I know. I left each of you a malachite brooch. They will protect you, but be careful! Save the cave, if it is destroyed, an incredible and indomitable force will fall on the world. Keep it. This is my dying order to you."

We were puzzled and decided to go to the cave first, after putting on the brooches left by our grandmother. When we got inside, we didn’t feel the usual warmth and lightness. Everything seemed to have been desecrated by someone. We started to feel sleepy. I was never able to overcome this feeling, although I desperately resisted. In a dream, a man came to me. He whispered to me angrily something that he would get to me, that I had no right to stand in his way and tried to kill me by stabbing me with a knife, but missed the vital organs, I woke up screaming, still feeling this pain from a knife, but safe and sound. My comrades were still sleeping, but I didn’t know what to do. I tried to wake them up, but they didn’t wake up, they weren’t breathing at all. I was sure: he killed them. He reached them. I couldn’t bring people here and I had to help my comrades with at least something, but I couldn’t. I pulled one by one out until everyone was outside and the darkness swallowed me.

I woke up the next day in the hospital, half gray. Next to my bed there were guys, alive and unharmed, but for some reason also gray-haired. I started asking them what happened then. This man came to everyone except Masha and seriously injured them. Masha saw her grandmother, who explained what exactly needed to be done with the cave. After I pulled them out, she began to come to her senses and saw me fall exhausted. She performed the ritual described by my grandmother and took us all to the hospital.