Recently I met with one old, still school friend, Slavik. He, having learned about my interest in all sorts of unusual events in life, told this story ...
According to Slava, this incomprehensible epic began in those distant years, when he was an eighth-grader at a Novosibirsk high school.
Once, on New Year's holidays, a friend from a small Ural town came to visit him. The New Year then began in Novosibirsk with wild frosts under forty. Although the Siberian and Ural boys are not afraid of the cold, in such weather for a long time they could not drive the puck on the rink on the ice ringing from the fierce cold. Therefore, willy-nilly, Slavka had to hang out at home with his Ural friend Vasya.
In those days, the kid had neither computers, nor smartphones with tablets, nor color TV sets with a bunch of films and programs to channel the seething energy into a safe channel. So the boys were tired of boredom, sitting in a large apartment and having already played enough hide and seek and unpretentious board games.
But soon, locked in frost and in a confined space, the boys found entertainment for themselves. Having opened a thick phone book, we sat down at the apparatus and started calling everyone at random - to wish a Happy New Year. Fortunately, both Slavkin's parents are at work and there is no one to stop fucking.
The guest Vaska especially liked this kind of entertainment. At home, in the two-story barrack where his family lived, there were no such wonders of civilization as the telephone. Again, there is a chance to meet an urban chick. To boast later to their Ural friends ...
In the directory, in addition to phone numbers and addresses, the full names of the subscribers were registered. So the boys chose mainly female names. Well, they did not disdain funny names either, in order to soak some unsightly joke to the unsuspecting poor fellow who answered the phone. If the surname is Kill the Wolf or Golopupenko, there is always something to say and how to "amuse" a person!
Innocently having fun in this manner, the guys dialed the next number. Slavka had a telephone at home with an additional pipe, so both could listen and speak at the same time.
At the other end of the line to Vaskino, the greeting “Hello! Happy New Year! I wish you happiness in your personal life ... etc. " a young female voice replied:
Thanks!!! So nice to hear that! .. And who are you? ..
It should be noted here that the boy Vaska, who grew up on the outskirts of a small Ural town, in civilized Novosibirsk, has an aggravated provincial complex. In addition, the name Vasya, everything is so rustic, he was a little embarrassed. So, in conversations with the girls and girls who answered, he introduced himself as Ruslan, then Timur, then something else, but not by his real name. And to this girl who answered affably, he called himself another beautiful pseudonym invented on the go.
And the girl turned out to be the same, as it was indicated in the phone book - Sukhorukova Lyudmila.
My friend Slavka remembered this name and surname. In addition, as it turned out many years later, even then the first prophecy sounded in them. But more on that later ...
In short, Vaska talked for two hours with a very romantic and sociable Lyudmila. And then, having abandoned the phone book with other numbers, all subsequent days of vacation began to call only her. Even when the weather improved, and Slavka and other guys dragged him to the street, Vasyok looked for any reason to return home. And there he instantly screwed up the dial of the phone and dialed the number of his beautiful stranger.
Of course, he, oh, how he wanted to meet the mysterious Lyudochka! But, firstly, she lived very far away, somewhere in the area of the Tolmachevo airport. And secondly, Vaska was terribly shy. In addition, it seemed from her voice that she was twenty years old. Those. older than the boy in love, five years, or even more.
In general, they did not get goodbye, and the holidays were over. Before leaving, Vaska decided to tell Lyudmila his real name, and at the same time to offer to exchange addresses in order to correspond.
But for some reason this time the conversation between the doves did not go well. Slavka hung on a parallel tube and heard. As a friend, he was forcedly silent, then he carried hopeless nonsense. Where are all his sparkling jokes, which he used to fall asleep on the girl before? ..
Finally, after another protracted pause, Vaska blurts out in a trembling voice for no apparent reason:
Luda, I love you !!! ..
Slavka even clamped his mouth shut so as not to laugh.
But what happened later became a bolt from the blue for both boys ...
After Vaska's words, there was silence on the other end of the line, and then there was a squeaky and disgusting old woman's laugh !!! This terrible laugh lasted for a minute, and then the same disgusting grinding voice said:
Do you know how old I am, Vasya?! ..
And again, at the other end, they burst out with a hoarse old woman's laughter.
But the dumbfounded guys were not at all laughing. And very much the opposite. A feeling of unimaginable horror gripped both of them. Needless to say, Vasily, who was already slowing down that day, was completely speechless. And the telephone receiver just fell out of my hands.
How did they know his name on the other end ?!
Neither he himself nor his friend Slavka spoke about him! ..
And what kind of old witch is this that sweet-voiced Lyudochka suddenly turned into? !!
Having come to their senses a little, the boys decided to run to Slavka's classmate and ask her to dial Lyudmila's number. They themselves no longer dared to do it.
The girl responded to a simple request and called the indicated number. To the question: "Please call Lyudmila Sukhorukov to the phone," she heard a creaky old woman's voice in response:
I'm listening to…
To say that the boys were puzzled is to say nothing. Especially crushed in his pure youthful dreams Vaska. Until the very departure, he walked as if dropped into the water, even ceasing to smile. Slavka's parents were even worried - were they sick?
And the next day he was taken to the train and the sad Vasyok went home to the Urals.
Fate decreed that friends Slavka and Vaska did not see each other for many, many years after those New Year holidays. At first they were in correspondence, and then it was interrupted. In rare letters, none of them recalled the unpleasant episode with Sukhorukova Lyudmila ...
But the ways of the Lord are inscrutable, and it often happens that former acquaintances scattered in different parts of the earth are suddenly brought together again by some incomprehensible force of chance.
So the paths, already grown-up uncles, Stas and Vasily crossed in one Black Sea sanatorium, after almost four decades.
Slavka went to this cultural and recreational institution to see his friends. Then I came across Vaska, who was vacationing on a preferential social ticket. Despite the age that changed the appearance of both, the men immediately recognized each other. As usual, we sat down to celebrate the meeting. It was over a "cup of tea" that Vasily told his childhood friend his further story. And whether she was connected with that same Lyudmila or not, decide for yourself ...
After returning home from New Year's Novosibirsk, although not immediately, but the stranger Lyudmila, who had so excited his boyish soul, Vasya gradually forgot.
I went to the army. I got married. I waited for the child. But, unfortunately, the little daughter did not live long. Before reaching even a year old, she died of some kind of sore. After that, he and his wife tried several more times to have children, but did not work for various reasons. And then, the still young couple scattered altogether.
After the divorce, Vaska lived in a civil marriage with several women, but in a serious way it did not work out with anyone. He was never a stay-at-home: now with friends in the garage, then into the forest for berries and mushrooms. There are few housewives who will humbly look at the eternally absent man. Yes, even to wash his unlucky and courteous. So Vaska spent his last years without a woman. But he is his own master. I wanted it - I knocked over a little with the men, I wanted it - to go fishing or to pick mushrooms.
On one of these forest hikes, he witnessed a strange and even terrible episode. As often happened, he went to pick mushrooms alone. Places have long been found, the company is especially useless here. I quickly collected the duty bucket and went home.
Having already decided to return to the station for the train, I suddenly heard sounds incomprehensible to the thicket. Like a chicken clucking. Yes, so loud! Really what wandered into the thicket and got lost?! ..
I went to the sound of clucking and soon after the pines and trees I saw a small gap. Approaching closer he paused. Painfully unexpected picture opened. A hefty old tree stump stood in a small patch of forest. On the mossy surface, there were a dozen stout redheads sticking out. And around the stump a completely naked old woman was hopping around! It was not very clear from behind the trees, but it seemed to Vasily that the grandmother was at least ninety, or even hundreds of years old. The skin is yellow, wrinkled, covered the ridge of the spine and convex p?
Sconce. Long gray hair is loose, dangling back and forth from her jumps. Therefore, the face cannot be made out properly. Most of all, the crazy grandmother resembled a dancing skeleton.
In one bony hand, the old woman was gripping a knife, and in the other, by both paws, she firmly held a black rooster with a small fleshy comb. Where she found a rooster in the forest remained a mystery, but Vasya immediately guessed that a skiff would come to him soon.
The rooster, it seems, did not doubt this either, flapping its wings and unsuccessfully trying to escape from the tenacious old woman's claws. But the cackling sounds were made, as it turned out, not by him, but by the granny herself!
Having jumped in her wild dance around the stump for another five minutes and clucking enough, the grandmother at a gallop with an imperceptible movement demolished the kochet's hammered head ... And then the most terrible thing began! She began to drink blood splashing from the headless bird's neck, thrusting a stump with feathers into her mouth!
Periodically breaking away from the nightmare "vessel" she poured gurgling blood over her face and chest. Vasily almost turned inside out! But fearing to find himself, he continued to stand, without moving, behind the trees.
The headless rooster flapped its wings for some time and twitched in grandma's hand. And when he calmed down, she threw him aside and, continuing to cackle and growl, made a real sodomy on the stump, which I, naturally, will not describe here.
Vasily, unable to bear the nightmarish spectacle any longer, turned around to get away as quickly as possible, when suddenly a branch cracked under his foot, and the grandmother's clucking immediately stopped.
And Vasya, without turning around and not wasting a second, has already rushed away through the bushes and windbreak, not making out the road ...
For a long time I could not stop, on the run I lost half of the collected mushrooms from the bucket. It all seemed that a terrible old woman was rushing on his heels and was about to grab hold of her bony, bloody fingers from behind.
Because of this hectic bustle, in spite of the fact that he was always well oriented in the forest, he lost his way. Then, out of spite, it started raining. The forest darkened as if in the evening. The trees swayed ominously. And behind every bush and dead wood, this Baba Yaga dreamed.
Nevertheless, after two hours of wandering, I got out to one stop. Not the one that he planned in advance. Commercials took him to the side. Although with a great unplanned delay, I got on a passing train. It takes about an hour to get to the house. I decided to take a nap on the way after long forest wanderings and nervous adventures. In the train carriage, the light is half-dimmed, it does not hit the eyes. The most thing is to pokemarize for an hour ...
But before Vasya had time to start nodding, he felt someone's gaze in his gut. As soon as I opened my eyes, I forgot to think about sleep. What a dream there is! In general, I did not rush into the aisle out of surprise!
An old woman was sitting across one seat, directly opposite. No, she was not naked. And the hair is hidden under the handkerchief. And the cock's blood did not fill the distorted crazy face, but ...
It was her!
That same Baba Yaga from the forest !!
Vasily froze with horror. Involuntarily, he glanced over his shoulder to determine the number of passengers. Unfortunately, it was a weekday, and it was too late. In different corners of the carriage, three or four pensioners are hooking up. Contrary to the sinister old woman - not an option at all.
And the old woman sits and does not take yellow eyes from the peasant. He wants to burn a hole with a glance, or what! Eyes are directly burning in the twilight, like a predator!
She seemed to read all his thoughts and was aware that he was watching her there in a clearing in the forest ...
How Vasya endured until the first suburban station, he himself does not know. But approaching it, he decided not to wait for the central station (where he should have been), but to get off here. To the house on the cross-over: get there by tram or shuttle bus. If only to quickly hide away from the piercing eyes of the nightmare old woman.
About ten minutes before the long-awaited station, I was standing and shaking in a spattered vestibule, away from the terrible babulence.
Finally the train stopped. The man jumped out and sighed with relief ... But then he choked. Grandma, that damn Yaga, also crawled out onto the platform !! Only from the other end of the carriage! The train stops here for three minutes. Now it's already started! Vaska, without hesitation, jumped into the moving carriage again.
Standing in the vestibule, I watched with satisfaction the granny who remained on the platform floating by. Fuu! Finally got off! What an obsession !! ..
But the old woman did not even look at the unlucky man. She fumbled with something in her basket.
Vasya returned to the carriage, sat down in his seat and finally calmed down. Maybe it all seemed to him? No, not what happened in the forest. Everything was real there! Horror, of course! But, what happens. Everyone goes crazy in different ways. So the granny, you see, flew off the coils in her old age. Yes, and God bless her! .. Or rather, devil! Natural Baba Yaga - Bone Leg! The old woman's legs are really bone! .. And hands too.
And out of fright, he took an ordinary passenger grandmother for a witch! Exactly, it was! And grandma doesn't care about me. I just sat staring at one point. It happens to grandmas. And I just found myself on this trajectory ...
When the electric train with a hiss stopped at the final stop - the central station, Vasya slowly went out into the vestibule and had already put his foot down the step to go to the platform, when he suddenly heard behind him:
Give me your hand ... Vasyatka ...
A thought flashed - someone I knew ... Although no one called him "Vasyatka" for forty years. But turning around, I almost crashed down from the iron steps !!!
Baba Yaga !!! The same one! As in the forest, as well as descended three stations ago !!! How did she end up in the carriage with me again? !! ..
Now he had no doubts. This is a real witch! Doomfully giving the old woman his hand, he helped her down the steep steps to the platform.
Babkina's palm reminded him of a dry old branch. The same tough and rough. But she clung tightly!
Resigned to fate, the man was already expecting the worst. Maybe he'll slash his throat with his sharp knife, like that rooster, maybe he'll turn it into a kid ...
But the grandmother just gazed into the face of the timid peasant with her predatory amber eyes and said, grinning:
Vasyatka ...
And waddled quietly away, bent over in three deaths. It didn’t fit in my head that only three hours ago, this pimped-up woman was writing out a pretzel in a naked form around a forest stump and sprinkling everything around with cock's blood! ..
Vaska did not see the crazy old woman again. Neither in the city, nor in the forest, where he began to visit much less often.
But the meeting with the sinister grandmother did not go without consequences.
The hand he held out to her at the station soon began to ache and dry out. The fingers began to bend and curl less and less. The skin turned yellow and wrinkled up to the shoulder. And two years later, the hand and forearm lost all sensitivity.
For this reason, Vasily received a disability. Well, accordingly, the state provided a ticket to the sanatorium. Just in that Black Sea, where fate again brought him together with his childhood friend Slavik ...
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So the holidays came, and with them - and a trip to visit my grandmother.
Little Lenka loved such trips more than anything else - no more school, gymnastics clubs, boring textbooks and school hooligans. But there is a spacious and quiet grandmother's apartment, grandfather's tales and the forest under the window. This was perhaps the most beautiful thing. The house was separated from a small forest only by a playground and an access road. Old, full of potholes and cracks in the asphalt. And what wonderful puddles were obtained from these pits!
And of course summer friends and comrades. Games in the yard until dark, collecting strawberries and blueberries in a race and equipping expeditions to the forest without parental permission. Once, having delved into the forest to "search for the treasure", a group of children really found a mysterious mound. True, instead of the treasure of the goblin there was a cat buried by someone, but this find did not discourage the children from enthusiasm. The cat was given over to a secondary burial, as an excuse, blades of grass with strawberries strung on them were laid on the grave, and the expedition went into the thicket deeper.
The second find was more interesting. The found thing was most of all like a small galoshe, only it was made of thin silver metal. An engraving in the form of schematically depicted herbs served as the decoration of the haloche. Children passed on a strange thing to each other, looked at and wondered what it was and how to proceed with the find. You cannot drag home - firstly, the parents will arrange an interrogation with prejudice and, most likely, the shoe will be taken away. And second, how do you decide who gets the value? There are three guys, and one galoshes.
As a result, it was decided to make a new treasure out of it. A place under a noticeable bush was quickly chosen, a hole was dug, the bottom was lined with burdock leaves and a galosh was solemnly lowered onto the leaves. She shone so beautifully against the background of soft green leaves! Lenka could not stand it, grabbed the find from the hole and tried it on on her left leg. She showed off in front of her comrades, showing them her tongue and teasing that none of them was worthy to wear a silver shoe, for which she received a couple of tweaks and was left without galoshes. The galoshes were measured in turn. It fit equally well on all childish legs, sat comfortably on both the right and left legs, and the children played with it for a long time before finally hiding it.
The next day passed unnoticed, and after supper the friendly company gathered again in the yard. This time older guys joined them. First, they made funny puzzles and riddles for the little ones, and then switched to scary stories. Here they talked about ghosts, and about the surrounding maniacs, and about ghouls, and about werewolves, and about goblin with mermaids and witches. Lenka absorbed each story with all her being, numb with sweet horror and imagining how exactly along this road on a dark moonless night a procession of bluish ghosts swims. Like a mysterious tower rises behind the forest on strictly defined nights, and from the upper window, a magic owl looks around the surroundings with yellow round eyes. And God forbid any of them catch the eye! They will devour, devour and do not think!
So the holidays came, and with them - and a trip to visit my grandmother.
Little Lenka loved such trips more than anything else - no more school, gymnastics clubs, boring textbooks and school hooligans. But there is a spacious and quiet grandmother's apartment, grandfather's tales and the forest under the window. This was perhaps the most beautiful thing. The house was separated from a small forest only by a playground and an access road. Old, full of potholes and cracks in the asphalt. And what wonderful puddles were obtained from these pits!
And of course summer friends and comrades. Games in the yard until dark, collecting strawberries and blueberries in a race and equipping expeditions into the forest without parental permission. Once, having delved into the forest to "search for the treasure", a group of children really found a mysterious mound. True, instead of the treasure of the goblin there was a cat buried by someone, but this find did not discourage the children from enthusiasm. The cat was given over to a secondary burial, as an excuse, blades of grass with strawberries strung on them were laid on the grave, and the expedition went into the thicket deeper.
The second find was more interesting. The found thing was most of all like a small galoshe, only it was made of thin silver metal. An engraving in the form of schematically depicted grasses served as the decoration of the haloche. Children passed on a strange thing to each other, looked at and wondered what it was and how to proceed with the find. You cannot drag home - firstly, the parents will arrange an interrogation with prejudice and, most likely, the shoe will be taken away. And second, how do you decide who gets the value? There are three guys, and one galoshes.
As a result, it was decided to make a new treasure out of it. A place under a noticeable bush was quickly chosen, a hole was dug, the bottom was lined with burdock leaves and a galosh was solemnly lowered onto the leaves. She shone so beautifully against the background of soft green leaves! Lenka could not stand it, grabbed the find from the hole and tried it on on her left leg. She showed off in front of her comrades, showing them her tongue and teasing that none of them was worthy to wear a silver shoe, for which she received a couple of tweaks and was left without galoshes. The galoshes were measured in turn. It fit equally well on all childish legs, sat comfortably on both the right and left legs, and the children played with it for a long time before finally hiding it.
The next day passed unnoticed, and after supper the friendly company gathered again in the yard. This time older guys joined them. First, they made funny puzzles and riddles for the little ones, and then moved on to scary stories. Here they talked about ghosts, and about the surrounding maniacs, and about ghouls, and about werewolves, and about goblin with mermaids and witches. Lenka absorbed each story with all her being, numb with sweet horror and imagining how exactly along this road on a dark moonless night a procession of bluish ghosts swims. Like a mysterious tower rises behind the forest on strictly defined nights, and from the upper window, a magic owl looks around the surroundings with yellow round eyes. And God forbid any of them catch the eye! They will devour, devour and do not hesitate!
But all good things come to an end sooner or later, and the parents began to call their children home. Lenka also went home.
In the courtyard, for several entrances, no lanterns were lit, but there was no absolute darkness, and Lenka walked slowly, carefully looking at her feet and thinking about the horror stories she had just heard. The familiar door to the entrance opened with difficulty, creaking as usual. There was no light in the stairwell either, and she almost felt the steps up the stairs, counting the steps.
First ... second ... third ...
The entrance door creaked long and long. Maybe which of the tenants was late?
Fourth ... fifth ...
When the flight of stairs ended, Lenka thought that the steps of a person could not be heard. Probably waiting for his eyes to get used to the dark. And here is the second flight.
The first step ... the second ... the third ...
A heavy sigh was heard at the entrance, and the girl stumbled on the fourth step.
Fifth ... sixth ...
Below - shuffling steps. Slow, senile.
Lenka instantly slipped through the second floor and carefully looked down. An even brighter spot was discerned on the railing, brightening in the darkness, and a man's hand was guessed in its outlines. Only the fingers were too long, and they seemed to bend too strangely.
She ran the third flight of stairs as fast as she could. Then she stopped between floors and listened. The steps seemed to have also quickened and sounded different. One foot stepped softly, slightly rustling on the floor, while the other shuffled much louder and knocked slightly, stepping over the step.
Lenka began to climb even more hastily, but stumbled on the steps invisible in the dark and again began to count them to herself, so as not to make any more mistakes. She tried not to think about the rather painful bruise.
First ... second ... third ... fourth ... fifth ...
Footsteps sounded too close - the pursuer invisible in the dark stepped on the first step of the same flight.
Lenka screamed and rushed forward.
Up-up-up - turn. And repeat again. And further.
She barely had time to pull her hand away when someone else's palm touched the railing in the same place. Oh, this time Lenka saw the hand better. Clawed, long-fingered palm with gnarled phalanges. And there were three phalanges on each finger. Everything inside the girl snapped, she pressed her hands to her face, covering her mouth twisted in horror, and an unknown person seized the moment, grabbing the girl by the ankle. Lenka howled pitifully and rushed to run, pulling the leg out of someone else's grasp.
Step, step, step more ...
The steps from behind were approaching, but the home door was also approaching.
Lenka finally found herself near the door, drummed her fists into it:
- Grandma, open it! Grandma, hurry up!
And the unknown from behind kept approaching, and Lenka turned around, pressing her shoulder blades against the door and getting ready to somehow protect herself.
An ancient old woman stood opposite the girl. Wrapped in a heavy-smelling shaggy sheepskin coat, unkempt, in a long, wide skirt. In the dark, a silver slipper glittered on one of her legs, the other was barefoot, with the same long strange fingers as on her hands. The old woman took another deep breath, as if sniffing, and held out her hand.
Lenka hit the door with her whole body:
- Grandma, hurry up!
* * *
Dozing in front of the TV, the grandmother shuddered, waking up as soon as the granddaughter banged on the door. Hurry. How could she come sooner? The old legs do not want to walk, the old head does not think well from sleep ...
When Grandmother finally opened the door, the landing was quiet and empty. Only a couple of moths were hovering under the ceiling, by the brightly burning light bulb.
Scary stories are called scary because they make it scary, you know? - explained Baba Yaga, - the listener involuntarily puts himself in the place of a participant in these events. Realized?
Not really, - grumbled Bayun, - Why is my story not terrible?
I didn’t say she’s not scary. But personally, I don't get scared when I hear a story about a girl who smashed a three-liter can of sour cream.
Explain.
I explain, - Yaga nodded, - Now if you hear a story in which someone broke a bottle of vodka - will you be scared?
No, - Bayun winced, - Vodka is disgusting.
But Ivan and Koschei will be scared. Very very! They will even grab the head. Do you understand what I mean?
Bayun scratched behind his ear with his paw.
Now I understand. Stories in which the essence boils down to the spoilage of a product will be scary for those who love this very product. For me - sour cream, for Ivan and Koschei - vodka.
Good girl, - Yaga praised, - Now let's do it again. You can leave the girl as the main character - the events that happen to someone innocent and defenseless will make the listener worry more than usual.
Got it, - Bayun nodded importantly, - So there was a girl who hacked to death the Beast one morning ...
Stop! Events must be scary!
Did the Beast have fun?
How difficult it is with you, - Yaga sighed, - Such a story will scare only the Monsters. And some will start to be afraid of little girls, just in case. A scary story must be scary for everyone! It must be creepy and sinister! Understand?
Of course, - snorted Bayun, - How do you like this beginning of the story: “one night a girl hacked to death someone in an ominous fog”. A? Everyone will be scared.
And why is that?
So it is not known who exactly she hacked to death there.
And why is the fog?
Adds mystery. There must be fog in every scary story.
The girl who chops the Monsters does not look naive and defenseless, - said Yaga, - Let me now invent a scary story for you so that you understand what I mean.
Try it, ”Bayun nodded mockingly.
Yaga thoughtfully rubbed the wart and sat down in a chair.
One day a little girl was returning home from her grandmother. The hour was late, the sun's rays were getting dimmer, and the darkness was getting blacker.
And the fog?
When the girl approached the forest, through which she had to go, it became completely dark, - Yaga continued, - As soon as she stepped two steps through the forest, she found herself in a thick fog, through which she could not even see her hands. But the girl knew that she needed to go straight, and then she would come out to her house - so she put her hands forward so as not to hit the tree, and went.
I'm not scared, "Baiun snorted." Will she hack to death in the fog?
Very soon the girl went out to her house and was so happy that she was not even surprised that the fog was left behind. She went into the house and saw there an old man with an old woman who looked at her with eyes full of horror. “Who are you?” She asked. “We are your parents,” the old man replied. The girl did not believe them, because her parents were young and could not grow old in one evening. “I was gone for only a few hours!” - she said. “No, daughter, you disappeared fifty years ago,” the old woman answered with tears. The girl got scared and also cried, she was very scared. “Don't cry, daughter. Now you are found and everything will be fine, ”the old man told her. They put her on the bed, and she fell fast asleep.
Unusual, but not scary.
And at night the old man and the old woman put together a huge bonfire on the street, - Yaga winked, - “The evil spirit mocks us,” the old man convinced the old woman, “came to us in the guise of our missing daughter to break our spirit and our faith, but I got it through. Take a rope and tie him up before he wakes up. We will not let him mock us anymore. And do not listen to what he will shout at you - this is another deception "...
So stop! - Bayun waved his paws, - This is too much! This is not an evil spirit!
But isn't it scary? - Yaga grinned, - And I didn't have to chop anyone, and the sour cream is intact.
Come on, you with such scary stories, grandmother. You scare scare, but you need to know the measure! As I can imagine, even the tail begins to tremble!