Scary Stories

Ancient chronicles mention the existence of deceased individuals whose bodies remained perfectly preserved for centuries, appearing as if they had just fallen asleep. These "living corpses" found by ordinary people evoked a sense of mystical fear. Strange corpses were mistaken for vampires - their heads were cut off, an aspen stake was driven into their hearts, and then their bodies were burned, thereby destroying evidence of the phenomenon of immortality. And now, people interested in this phenomenon are forced to collect information piece by piece......

It is clear that ritual killings, human sacrifices, which are known to us primarily from the history and sacred books of different peoples, sharply contradict modern morality and culture. However, this contradiction should not hinder the understanding of the natural origin of this tragic custom. According to the researcher of primitive culture, Edward Tylor, sacrifice originated in the same animistic system as prayer. Just as prayer is an appeal to a deity as if it were a person, so too is sacrifice the offering of gifts to a deity as a person. The everyday forms of both prayer and sacrifice can be observed in public life to this day. However, sacrifice, as understandable as prayer was in antiquity, later changed, both in its ritual aspect and in relation to the underlying motives. And of course, the practice of sacrificing a human being is very rare and not legalized in any country in the world. A classic example is the story of Jacob in the Old Testament, who offered his son to God. However, there are many such examples in the Old Testament. The king of Moab, seeing that victory was turning against him, sacrificed his eldest son on the city wall. According to the Bible, Yahweh requires that all the firstborn of Israel be dedicated to him (Ex. 34:20; Num. 3:12-13, 40-50). According to some researchers, this means that in ancient times these firstborn were actually sacrificed to God - that is, killed. In general, ancient peoples often sacrificed children, using their physical and mental helplessness. Children served as a kind of exchange currency in trade with the gods. Children served as a kind of exchange currency in trade with the gods. When the Inca in Peru were sick, they would offer one of their sons as a sacrifice to a deity, pleading for the deity to accept the sacrifice in their place. The Greeks, for their part, found it sufficient to use criminals or prisoners for this purpose. Similarly, the pagan tribes of Northern Europe, it is said, were sold slaves for this purpose by Christian merchants. However, the practice of buying people for ritual killings dates back to before Christianity. One of the most typical examples of this is during the Punic Wars (264-146 BC). The Carthaginians, who had lost the war and were being driven out by Scipio Africanus, attributed their defeat to the wrath of the gods. In the past, their god Kronos had sacrificed chosen children of his people, but later they began to buy and fatten up children from other families for this purpose. Now, they believed that the deity was avenging them for using false sacrifices. It was decided to compensate for the deception. Two hundred children from the most prominent families were sacrificed to the idol. "Because they had a copper statue of Kronos with arms bent in such a way that a child placed on them would roll into a deep pit filled with fire." Something similar happened in Syria and Phoenicia. The cult of the god Hadad required brutal, bloody sacrifices, especially of newborn children. This is not only evidenced by historical sources, but also by archaeological finds - large accumulations of children's bones have been found near the remains of Hadad's altars in temples. The name of the Phoenician god Moloch has also become a synonymous term for a ferocious, life-devouring god. It is believed that the name Moloch comes from the word "molk", which means sacrificing children. Another bloodthirsty pagan god is Baal, whom researchers once identified with Moloch. " Human sacrifices to Baal are mentioned, for example, in the book of the prophet Jeremiah (19.5). The Phoenicians, in order to appease Baal and other gods, sacrificed their most beloved children. They increased the value of the sacrifice by choosing them from noble families, believing that the sacrifice's worth was measured by the loss. Heliogabalus brought this Asian custom to Italy, choosing boys from the most noble families of the country as sacrifices to his solar deity. Other countries and peoples did not reach such a scale of infant killing (except for the African tribe of the Yaga, but that is a special case), but they nevertheless used them in their cults. For example, among some peoples, the Mundas (pre-Aryan India) practiced sacrificing boys to the goddess of the earth. In Virginia, the Indians killed children, believing that the Oke (spirit) sucked blood from their left breasts. Ritual killings related to war occupy a special place in the history of sacrifices. The Iroquois sacrificed people to the god of war, Ari, while uttering the following prayer: "For you, spirit of Ari, we sacrifice this person so that you may be sated with its flesh and send us luck and victory over our enemies!" The Aztecs, during war, turned to Tezcatlipoca-Yaultli: "Lord of Battles, it is known to all that a great war is being planned, prescribed, and carried out. The god of war opens his mouth, eager to consume the blood of many who must fall in this war. The sun and the god of the earth, Tlaltecutli, seem to be gathering to have fun and intend to provide food and drink to the gods of the sky and hell, holding a feast of meat and blood from those who will fall in war." The ruler of the Maya (Mexico), calling his warriors to battle, made incisions on their bodies and dedicated drops of their blood to the gods. His wife also tortured her flesh to gain the favor of the deities. If the battle ended in victory, the gods craved the blood of the defeated. Captured enemies were subjected to ritualistic tortures, which ended in death. Noble people wore shoelaces with knots on their wrists: the number of knots indicated the number of lives sacrificed. Death also ended the ritualistic game of ball for the prisoners. Like Roman gladiators, the prisoners fought on large fields, not for life, but for death. Blood was an integral part of many Mayan rituals, but there was also a way to sacrifice without blood. In the ruins of the once powerful city of Chichen Itza (Yucatan Peninsula) is the so-called "Sacred Well" ("Well of Sacrifice"). The first mentions of it date back to the 12th century; in the 16th century, Spanish priest Diego de Landa wrote: "They (the Yucatec Indians, one of the ethnic groups of the Mayans) had the custom of throwing living people into this well as sacrifices to the gods during droughts... This well has survived to this day, although the city itself is long abandoned and ruined. "Even now, eight centuries later, one feels an involuntary shiver when standing at the edge of the giant pit with its yellowish-white sloping walls, covered with creeping plants," says historian V. Gulyaev, who visited Chichen Itza in 1980. "The eye of the circular funnel with a diameter of more than 60 meters captivates, attracts. The jagged layers of limestone steeply descend downwards to the dark green water, which hides the secrets of bygone centuries. From the edge of the well to the surface of the water is more than twenty meters. And its depth, as I was told, is more than half that. " Is it surprising that the gloomy beauty of the cenote and its relative inaccessibility evoked almost superstitious terror in the ancient Maya, and that they apparently chose this place for sacrifices to their gods? Since permanent sacrifices required humans, neighboring with Mexico states often made agreements with each other to... periodically resume war with the sole purpose of capturing prisoners. The Aztecs often pre-fed many of the prisoners, placing them in wooden cages for this purpose, and then used them "for their intended purpose." During the conquest of Mexico, Cortés and his companions, while examining one of the large Aztec temples, "came upon a large jade stone, on which sacrifices were made; they were killed with obsidian knives - volcanic glass - and saw the statue of the god Huizilopochtli... The body of this obscene god - the Aztec god of war - was adorned with a serpent made of pearls and precious stones. Bernal Díaz... averted his gaze; and it was here that he saw something even more terrifying: all the walls of this vast room were stained with blood. "The stench," he wrote later, "was stronger than that of a slaughterhouse in Castile." He looked at the altar: there were three hearts lying on it, which, in his opinion, were still twitching and smoking. Descending down the countless steps, the Spanish noticed a large building that stood on the hill. Entering it, they saw that it was filled to the ceiling with neatly arranged skulls: these were the skulls of countless victims. One of the soldiers began to count them and came to the conclusion that there must be at least 136,000. The cults of many gods among the Aztecs were associated with the sacrifice of humans. So, during the festival in honor of Tlasolteotl, the goddess of the earth, fertility, sexual sins, and repentance, a young woman was sacrificed, and her skin was later used to make a coat for the priest who represented the goddess. The spring sacrifice in honor of the great god Tepeotlpoctli was particularly lavish. He was chosen in advance (a year before the festival) as the most beautiful prisoner, without any physical defects. This chosen one was considered the embodiment of the god on earth. He was surrounded by luxury and honors, his whims and caprices were indulged, he was fed the finest food, and dressed in the finest clothes. However, of course, he was closely watched to ensure he didn't escape. When the festival was 20 days away, the chosen one received four beautiful young women as servants; they were also revered as goddesses. The "high" came on the day of the festival: the divine prisoner was led to the temple, laid face down on a stone altar, and the high priest would cut open his chest to extract the still-beating, bloody heart and offer it to the sun god. Also, prisoners in Ancient Egypt were offered to the sun god Amun-Ra. After returning from military campaigns, high-ranking prisoners were hanged (often near the walls of temples) or killed with a club in the presence of a large crowd. Obviously, in ancient times, rare peoples did not resort to sacrificial killings during wars and during funeral rituals. Our Slavic ancestors also did so. I will refer to the accounts of the battles of the Scythian tribes with the Romans by the Byzantine historian Leo Diacon (10th century): "And when night fell and the full moon shone, the Scythians emerged onto the plain and began to collect their dead. " They piled them up before the wall, arranged many fires, and burned them, while also sacrificing numerous prisoners, both men and women, according to ancestral customs. After committing this bloody sacrifice, they suffocated [several] infants and roosters, drowning them in the waters of the Istr. Human sacrifices were widely practiced among the ancient Celts; partly this was related to the divination ritual. In India, cults of orgiastic and perverse practices, related to the images of the gods of love and death, emerged on the basis of the worship of the god Shiva. Followers of one of the most perverse sects, the *Thugs* (soul-killers), sacrificed random travelers on the road to Durga (Shiva's wife). Tacitus reports on the tradition of sacrifices among the Suebi, who occupied a large part of Germany during his time: "On the appointed day, representatives of all peoples related to them by blood gather in the forest, which they consider sacred, where their ancestors received prophecies, and which has always inspired them with pious reverence. After starting with the sacrifice of a human, the entire tribe solemnly performs the terrible rituals of their barbaric rite. As for the exemplary states of antiquity - Rome and Greece? Surely not... Alas, they did too. Many modern historians believe that in the ancient world, human sacrifices were of a sporadic nature (the sacrifice of three Persians before the Battle of Salamis, the burial of four Gauls and Greeks alive in Rome in 228 and 216 BC), however, there are quite a few testimonies about their widespread use, both by the Romans and the Greeks. Although in some ancient cults (such as the cult of Zeus at Olympia), human sacrifices were based on the belief that the gods found pleasure in consuming human flesh, sacrifices were more often offered for "ideological" reasons - to show the god submission and avert his wrath from the entire people. The Romans had the custom of killing people to appease the underworld gods. According to ancient Roman law, certain criminals (such as those accused of treason) were dedicated to the gods. Sacrifices were offered during the festival of Jupiter Latiaris. Ritual killings of children were performed during the festival of Compitalia, which was dedicated to the god Mania (since the time of Julius Brutus, infants were fortunately replaced with heads of garlic or onions). However, in 97 BC, the consuls Cornelius Lentulus and Lucius Crassus prohibited human sacrifices by decree of the Senate. Of course, practice lagged behind theory. The custom of offering human sacrifices, which dates back to the early period of Greek history, was adopted by the Greeks from neighboring peoples, and gradually disappeared with the development of the state. In the extreme case, sacrifices were performed symbolically - by replacing people with animals (this can be seen in the myth of Iphigenia) or inanimate objects. Sometimes, only the spilling of human blood was sufficient (for example, Spartan boys were sacrificed at the altar of Artemis). There was also another way - criminals who had already been sentenced to death by the court were offered to the gods. In this way, they were combining pleasure with profit, and profit with necessity. For example, criminals were annually sacrificed to Apollo in Leucadia, by throwing them off a cliff. In ancient Greece, human sacrifices during burial were not for the gods, but for the spirits of the deceased, to appease their anger or desire for revenge. In many cultures around the world, rulers and chieftains were buried with those who had been killed (or who had committed suicide), to accompany the deceased. Among the Southern and Western Slavs, prominent individuals were buried with their horses, and sometimes their slaves and wives. In the excavation of the underground tomb of Puabi in Southern Mesopotamia, archaeologists discovered guards and women with musical instruments. No signs of violence were found in any of the burials of Puabi. It is likely that they were all poisoned (or drugged), or perhaps they died voluntarily, according to their beliefs about their duty to accompany their mistress in the afterlife. However, this was not always the case. In the excavation of the tomb of King Ur (3500 BC), archaeologist Leonard Woolley discovered 59 people buried with him; there were also many other accompanying dead in other royal tombs. "It seemed," described the researchers, "that these tombs were the sites of terrible battles. In one, Woolley found several guards; next to their bodies were their weapons, and helmets had fallen from their heads. In another, there were the remains of nine court ladies, who were likely wearing their hats when they came to the funeral. Two heavy chariots stood at the entrance to the tomb, with the skeletons of the chariot horses inside; next to the skeletons of the horses, there were the skeletons of the servants. In the tomb of Queen Shub-at, the dead court ladies lay in two rows. There was also a musician playing the harp. " The hands of the deceased were still on the instrument, inlaid with precious stones, on which he was clearly playing when he was struck by a fatal blow. Even on the stretcher, where the queen's coffin was placed, the skeletons of two people were in the position they were found in when death overtook them... The positions of the skeletons, as well as a number of other circumstances, led to the conclusion that these courtiers, soldiers, and servants did not follow their masters willingly... In ancient China, prisoners were mercilessly killed during burial rituals. Human sacrifices were particularly numerous in Chinese tombs from the Qin Dynasty. 66 people, buried with Qin ruler Hu-gun, 177 people, buried with ruler Mu-gun, etc., are just a drop in the bucket compared to the number of people killed to accompany Qin Shi Huang to the afterlife. Over 700,000 people worked on his tomb for 10 years. The tomb was a palace with hundreds of halls filled with precious stones; artificial lakes and rivers of mercury were created. Artists painted celestial phenomena on the walls, and the flora and fauna of the earth were depicted on the floor. It is clear that such a large tomb required a corresponding number of people. That is why Emperor Er Shi ordered all the beautiful women from the 270 surrounding palaces, who did not have children, to accompany Qin Shi Huang to the afterlife. According to experts, there were at least 3,000 of them! In addition, Er Shi, fearing that the builders would reveal the location of the treasures, buried all the people working inside the tomb alive. The practice of burial sacrifice is still preserved in several countries. So, in some castes of Northern India, sati (self-immolation of a widow on her husband's funeral pyre) [\*](http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim#prim) - is practiced constantly, which is mentioned in the Rigveda, the sacred book of the Vedic priests. This means that the practice has been practiced for at least 3 thousand years. "Sati was once considered a privilege of the chosen few," writes I. Karavanov, who has studied this issue in detail. "It was only practiced by the widows of rulers and military leaders. In the giant funeral pyre of Maharaja Vijayanagar, three thousand of his wives and concubines were burned at once. The bodies of the last raja, Tandra, were burned with two of his wives. Their charred bones were ground into powder, mixed with cooked rice, and eaten by 12 priests of one of the temples as atonement for the sins of the deceased. Gradually, self-immolation spread to representatives of higher castes and began to mean not only an expression of devoted love and marital duty, but also loyalty to their lord after death." A Russian traveler, Prince A. D. Saltykov, who visited India in the mid-19th century, writes in one of his letters: "The Madras governor, Lord Elphinston, once showed me a place on the seashore where corpses were burned. For the poor, cow dung is used to fuel the fire, and for the rich, sandalwood is used... They say that when the wind blows from the sea, the smell of roasted mutton from the funeral pyre can be smelled, just like from a kitchen. It's good that only the dead are burned, otherwise, sometimes, the living are also burned." My new acquaintance, Pudukottai Raj, has a very intelligent and very kind mother who loves her children fiercely, and when her husband died, she desperately wanted to immolate herself; she was only dissuaded from this act by the names of her children. However, after the death of Tajor Raj, the situation was not so simple: his wife immolated herself with remarkable composure. She was barely persuaded not to immolate herself on the pyre where her husband's body lay, and she preferred to die in a large fire. She agreed and threw herself into a pit of burning wood, where she was instantly incinerated. Before her death, she apologized to her family and to the ministers, entrusting them with her children. Sometimes, an entire crowd of living people would immolate themselves on the funeral pyre of the deceased. For example, in 1833, along with the body of Raj, his seven wives, two concubines, four servants, and a servant were immolated. The British, who colonized India, banned sati in 1829, but even today, several thousand Indian widows pay tribute to this barbaric custom annually [""][http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim1#prim1]. In 1987, India established criminal liability for inciting sati and even for its commission (if, of course, the woman survives), but the number of victims does not decrease. In principle, the widow voluntarily goes to self-immolation, but this voluntary act is often illusory, as it is often driven by the fanaticism of men and the "observing gazes of calm, tanned women," as Akhmatova might say. What Europeans consider to be a barbaric act is, for many Indians, a spiritual elevation, a feat, and a reliable way to atone for sins or, at the very least, to improve their karma in order to suffer less in the next incarnation. Sacrifices in ancient peoples were not only associated with war and burial, but also with ordinary peaceful activities, such as obtaining a good harvest and laying the foundation for a house, etc. In New Zealand, there was a ritual called "feeding the wind," which included the sacrifice of people and animals to the local deity. Something similar existed among many peoples of Oceania. Victims were usually poor people or slaves, who did not represent "social value." The victims were usually killed beforehand and then brought to the sanctuary to perform the ritual sacrifice to the gods. In some peoples (the Moray), the sanctuaries were the burial grounds of the tribal nobility. In ancient Egypt, there was a custom of throwing a young woman in a beautiful dress (a bride) into the Nile during the floods, in order to obtain a full flood. During droughts, the Aztecs sacrificed a man to the goddess Tlazolteotl. He was tied to a pole and shot with darts. The blood that dripped from the wounds represented rain. In the pantheon of the Sapote people, who lived in one of the centers of South America - Monte Alban, the god of rain and lightning, Kosio-Pitao, occupied an important place. Since, according to the beliefs of the Sapote people, it was he who determined the fertility of the land, Kosho-Pitao had to be appeased with human sacrifices of infants. A common reason for ritual killings among many peoples of Europe and the East was the loss of the king (chieftain) or the supreme priest of the tribe, whose "miraculous" power allowed him to control natural phenomena. African researchers also speak of a similar practice, noting that in later stages this custom was often used by the ruling class to eliminate unwanted rulers. The most striking example is the ritual suicides of the Alafin among the Yoruba after receiving the symbol of judgment from the council of nobles - a parrot egg or an empty calabash. The Kayans of Borneo had the custom of offering human sacrifices when a very important chief moved into a newly built house. E. Taylor cites a case in which, as early as around 1847, a Malay slave girl was bought and killed by having her blood drawn. Her blood was sprinkled on the pillars and foundation of the house, and her body was thrown into the river. In Africa, in Galame, before the gates of the new fortified settlement, it was customary to bury a boy and a girl alive - to make the settlement impregnable. In the Great Bassam and Yarribe, such sacrifices were offered when a house or village was being built. In Polynesia, the central column of one of the temples of Mawa was erected over the body of a human sacrifice. On the island of Borneo, a medieval traveler witnessed how, when building a large house, a deep pit was dug for the first pillar and the man was hanged over it. A slave girl was then lowered into the pit and the ropes were cut. The large beam fell into the pit and crushed her to death. In 1463... In Noga (Europe), when it was necessary to repair the damaged dam, the peasants got a vagrant beggar drunk and buried him there, following the advice to "incorporate" a living person into the dam "for strength." The Serbs have a remarkable legend about how three brothers agreed to build the Skadar fortress (Skutari), but every night, the mermaid, endowed with magical power, would destroy what the 300 stonemasons had built during the day. It was necessary to appease her with a sacrifice. To do this, they decided to choose the first of the three wives of the brothers, who would provide food for the workers. At the same time, it was agreed not to tell the wives about this agreement. But the older brothers, out of pity for their wives, revealed the secret to them. The wife of the youngest brother, unaware of anything, came to the construction site, and she was walled up. But she begged to be allowed to leave a hole so that she could feed her child while he was a year old. Similar legends, related to the real practice of sacrifices, also exist among other peoples of Europe. In North America, they are relatively rare, but there were cases when Native Americans sacrificed to natural phenomena - the sun, stars, wind - not only material values, but also living people. The countries of Oceania, despite their isolation from the centers of civilization, did not lag behind in ritual killings. The sailors of James Cook's expedition, who visited the Polynesian island of Tahiti in 1777, witnessed a human sacrifice to the god Oro. Such rituals were often accompanied by cannibalism, but it is difficult to say what was the primary cause of the ritual - faith or hunger. Most likely, they supported each other, especially during difficult years for agriculture and fishing. And, on the other hand, there was the natural naivety of indigenous thought, uncorrupted by civilization: if you killed an enemy, why not the body? In several African countries, the cult of the deceased leaders demanded huge human sacrifices - not only at funerals, but also at memorial services, held on the anniversary of the leader's death. The victims were slaves or convicted criminals, or, more rarely, members of the tribe (in Benin, at the burial of the king, slaves and close courtiers were sent to the grave, but this was more the exception than the rule). At memorial services for leaders, the number of victims sometimes reached 400-500 people at a time! If there were not enough convicted criminals, then free, innocent people were often taken. In some West African peoples, those sacrificed at memorial services were believed to be intermediaries between the living and the dead, who should report to the deceased leader that everything was going well in his earthly kingdom. These remnants of ritual killings still exist in several African countries. For example, in the Akwapim community, near the capital of Ghana, Accra, the burial of a leader must traditionally be accompanied by a ritual human sacrifice. In 1979, a four-year-old boy was kidnapped for this purpose, but fortunately, the police were able to prevent the crime. However, in another case - in Liberia - it was not possible to prevent the ritual killing, because one of the participants was... the Minister of Internal Affairs! In June 1989, the Minister was convicted of participating in a ritual sacrifice (the victim was beheaded and his heart was torn out). Another case. In 1989, the bodies of two mutilated girls were found in Zimbabwe. Their genitalia, tongues, and internal organs were extracted for sale as amulets that bring good fortune. In Nepal, there is a cult of the goddess Kali, who, according to legend, centuries ago, on a single black, moonless night, defeated 108 demons and, intoxicated with blood, danced the wild Tandava dance on their corpses. It was she, this bloodthirsty deity, who "created the world, protects it, and eternally devours it." Among the rituals performed by members of the lowest caste, the Taho, who worship the goddess Kali, is the annual sacrifice of 108 buffaloes, whose heads are then cut off, and their blood is drunk directly from the throats of the dead animals. Local residents say that the Taho bury a child every 12 years to sacrifice to their goddess. However, civilized Europe should not boast before Africa and Asia. There are also terrible perversions in the Old World. The French writer Jean-Paul Bourre, for example, describes one of the "Luciferian" sects, called "Gypsies-praisers." The followers of this sect perform their main rituals, which they call "full initiation," at night in the outskirts of major European cities. At the light of torches, members of the sect cover a ritual table with objects from their monstrous liturgy: a knife with six blades for sacrifice and a small altar decorated with images of green dragons. The next stage is the abduction of a person, preferably a child, in the nearest city, and the performance of the ritual itself. "When the "Gypsies-praisers" return from hunting humans, they form an unusual procession, singing monotonous songs. Then the victim is tied to a red-painted table, and the priest subjects her to monstrous tortures, carving magical symbols (the most common of which is the swastika) into her living body. " To conclude, cults, before moving on to the liturgical feast, sing cannibalistic hymns, and then eat the victim's heart and other organs. These events shed light on recent events in Spain. In Torrelo and El Escorial, towns near Madrid, graves were desecrated and human bones were found. A police report on the cult operating in El Escorial states that "there is almost complete certainty that a child was sacrificed." Maria Mieres reported that she witnessed a satanic ritual in which "a child of about two years old was killed as part of black magic." According to Interpol sources, more than a hundred murders were committed in Satanist cults in Western Europe, the United States, and Canada in 1989 and the first months of 1990. Some of these deaths may have natural causes, such as blood clots or heart attacks during "the devil's incantation," but there is also direct evidence of premeditated murders with brutal torture. The worship of the devil and the sacrifice of victims has a long history in the Christian world. In the Middle Ages, there were several trials in Europe in which infants killed during so-called "black masses" were involved. For example, the trial of Gilles de Rais [ extit{***}](http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim2#prim2), who allegedly used an unbaptized infant to obtain alchemical gold from the devil, and the trial of Urbain Grandier (persecuted at the behest of Cardinal Richelieu), who was accused of murdering a child during a satanic ritual in Orleans in 1631. While the accusations against de Ré and Grandy are met with skepticism by historians, the evidence against Margarita Monvuaz, the wife of a Parisian jeweler, appears undeniable. In the garden of her house in Saint-Germain, investigators found the remains of over two thousand children and undeveloped embryos. Madame Monvuaz was the main suspect in the "Poison Affair," which implicated many prominent figures, including the mistress of King Louis XIV, the Marquise de Montespan. The affair began in 1677 with the arrest of several "witches." The investigation revealed that Monvuaz and her accomplices not only performed illegal abortions, but also poisoned their husbands on the orders of wealthy women, and held black masses led by Abbé Gibur. The black magician Gibur worshipped the devil for two decades, using the abandoned church of Saint-Marcel for this purpose. The ritual combined elements of Catholic mass and ancient pagan cults, witchcraft, and sexual orgies. During the black masses, Gibur repeatedly killed children. He baked their blood in pastries, sprinkled it on the participants of the ritual. The abbot did not steal the infants, but bought them from the poor of Paris for 5-6 livres. Sometimes the black masses were held "for no reason," while other times there was a specific reason. For example, when the Marquise de Montespan suspected that King Louis XIV had a new mistress, the Marquise de Fontain. "She three times entered the abandoned church to lie on a cold stone table (altar)." Cutting the throat of another infant in the name of Asmodeus and Astaroth, Gibur filled the ritual cauldron three times with blood, as per the black magic ritual, placing it between the legs of the king's mistress... [ extit{ extbf{}}(http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim3#prim3)](http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim3#prim3) J. Frazer in "The Golden Branch" states that black masses, magic, and sacrifices were common among the uneducated French peasantry even in the 19th century. "The Gascon peasants also believe," Frazer notes, "that evil people sometimes persuade a priest to hold a Mass called the Mass of Saint Secreta. Very few people know this Mass, and three out of four would never agree to hold it. Only a wicked priest would dare to perform this disgusting rite, and you can be sure that he will pay dearly for it in the terrible judgment... The Mass of Saint Secreta can only be held in a ruined and neglected church, where indifferent owls hoot, bats fly silently in the twilight, gypsies rest there at night, and frogs hide under the desecrated altar. It is here that the wicked priest comes at night with his mistress [ extit{ extbf{}}(http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim4#prim4)](http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim4#prim4). Exactly at eleven o'clock, he begins to recite the Mass backwards and finishes it as soon as the clock strikes midnight. His mistress helps him. The offering [ extit{ extbf{}}(http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim5#prim5)](http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim5#prim5), which he blesses, is black and triangular in shape. Instead of partaking in the consecrated wine, he drinks water from the well into which the body of an unbaptized infant was thrown."Although Buddhism is inherently very tolerant, there have also been instances of human sacrifices within its practice. In the early 20th century, Lama (Dambijanchan), who led the Mongols against Chinese rule, called the killing of enemies a great sacrifice to Buddhist gods. Historian A.V. Burdakov, who personally knew Dambijanchan, writes about one of his military activities in 1912: "Pointing to a brilliant silk banner, which shimmered in the sun, Dambijanchan's associates told of the recently concluded ceremony of consecrating the banner, in which a Chinese prisoner was sacrificed to the banner. However, an inexperienced executioner was unable to decapitate him, so he had to turn to a more experienced one."Just 100-200 years ago, pagan superstitions led to human sacrifices in the Russian Empire [""](http://www.gutted.nm.ru/library/other/death_cult.htm#prim6#prim6). However, as V. Chaliadze rightly notes, ritual killings in Russia "did not constitute a regularly performed rite. Only a serious social tragedy, such as a severe epidemic or a prolonged drought, revived this ancient way of appeasing the wrath of heaven in the popular memory."Russian historian V. Antonovich tells of a case in the village of Gumenets in Podolia, where in 1738, smallpox spread. One night, the villagers organized a procession to "ward off" the disease from the village. They walked with a cross and prayers through the surrounding fields and came across Mikhail Matkovsky, a resident of a neighboring village, who was looking for his missing horses. " Superstitious participants in the procession saw the unknown figure, wandering through the fields at night with a rope in his hands, as an embodiment of the plague. Initially, they limited themselves to beating him, and Matkowski, barely conscious, could only crawl to his house. But the next day, the residents of Гуменца went to the neighboring village, dragged Matkowski out into the street, and beat him again. "Then the priest appeared and, after confessing to Matkowski, said: "My job is to care for the soul, and yours is to care for the body. Burn him quickly." They built a fire and burned the unfortunate man. V. Chalidze in his book "Criminal Russia" cites similar examples from the 19th century. "In 1855, in the Novo-Grodsky district, during a severe cholera epidemic, the peasants, at the advice of the doctor Kozakevich, lured the old woman Lucia Manakova to the cemetery, pushed her alive into the prepared grave, and covered her with earth..." There are also reports of attempts at similar sacrifices in the same district during epidemics in 1831 and 1871. Researcher of Russian customary law, Yakushkin, mentions a case in the Turuhan region, where one peasant, to save himself and his family from the epidemic of 1861, sacrificed his own daughter, burying her alive. Similar sacrifices also occurred sometimes in......

Nesaulkoiyotl (The Hungry Coyote). He was the son and heir to the throne of the great ruler Nezaulpilli. Unlike his father, he was not a warrior, but he believed it was more fitting to delve into magic. People remembered him as a handsome young man, but one who was too angry and resentful towards everyone. Perhaps the fault lies with his father, as in a drunken rage (when drinking was prohibited), he killed his wife, the boy's mother, in front of the young Coyote. As he grew older, the boy never stopped being afraid and silently hated his father. Later, his father founded the city of Texcoco near the powerful city of Azcapotzalco, ruled by the Aztecs (a hostile tribe). The Aztecs had long tolerated Nesaualpil, but when he refused to pay for the rights to his city, the Aztecs decided to take it. In 1418 BC, when the young prince was 15, the Tepequeks attacked Tenochtitlan and Nezahualcoatl, he almost escaped with his father from the besieged city. Almost. But his father did not escape, and the culprit was none other than the young Coyot himself. In the panic, people fled in all directions, but due to his old age, Nezahualcoatl was unable to overcome this crowd of madness and fear. An arrow shot at one of the warriors hit the ruler in the abdomen. Seeing this, despite the general panic, the young Coyote suddenly grew bolder, sensing some kind of protection, whether it was in the simple confidence and desire for revenge for his mother, or in the extraordinary magical aura, no one knows, but the enemy's arrows and spears changed their trajectory if they were aimed at the mage. "The coyote approached the lying father, and a golden sphere formed around them, its boundaries were impenetrable... - Help me up, son! - No! You killed my mother, she couldn't get up from the cold ground, and you can't either!" - The coyote cried, almost in tears. - Your mother deserved to die!" This is a great honor for our people! - There is no honor in being killed by a drunk man! - Get up, and you will pay with your life for insulting your ruler! - The young man screamed, and all his anger, rage, and hatred, which had been accumulating in his soul for years, was directed at his worst enemy.... Coyote's skin became thick bark and stone, and his hands turned into the shape of axes. In a berserk rage, Nezahualcoatl attacked his father.... The people froze in horror. The coyote was hacking and beating his father until his body (the father's) turned into a bloody mess. Then, the attackers scattered in all directions, while the city residents hid in their homes. When the people decided to come out of their homes to see what was happening, they saw only an empty, dilapidated city, and no blood puddle in its center. Absolutely nothing. Neither the prince nor what remained of his father's body was known, but legends say that the young Coyote is now the guardian of the green forests, and anyone who encroaches on his territory will be killed, and all his blood will be drunk, so that the guardian can live forever and replenish his magical powers......

November 19. The Smith Sisters. This is a local legend about a boy named John Smith who loved scary emails and pop-up windows. 1st version: Every day, he would find something new and send it to everyone he knew. He even started creating his own and sending them to strangers. He loved scaring people online. John lived in Plainfield, Wisconsin. One day in November 2007, he opened his Inbox and found a message from two young women. They introduced themselves as the "Smith Sisters" and told him that they were his older sisters, which confused him because he was the only child. They said that many years ago, they lived in this house. He replied that he didn't have any sisters, and asked them to disappear and leave him alone. The next day, he received a frightening message with attached photos. In the first photograph, there were two young girls. The Smith sisters were killed anonymously. The caption on the photo read: The killer of the Smith sisters has not been found. The girls stated in the letter that they were indeed their older sisters. They said that they lived in his house in 1993. His bedroom was their bedroom at that time. They told him about how they grew up and lived there, and how happy they were before that terrible night. He opened another attachment. It contained a scan of an old newspaper article: "In 1993, two sisters were brutally murdered in the small town of Plainfield, Wisconsin." Lisa Smith, 19 years old, and her sister, Sarah Smith, 15 years old, were attacked in their parents' house on the night of November 17th, around 1:30 AM. The Smith sisters were lying in bed when a mad killer broke into the house. No one heard them screaming. In the morning, their parents found the bodies of the Smith sisters hidden in the closet. Their skin was peeled off while they were still alive. The killer has long disappeared and left no trace. The killer was not found. The police conducted a thorough investigation, but without success. The motives for the attack were not discovered, and the perpetrator was not found. The only clue was the strange emails on Lisa's computer. The case was closed in October 2000. In the final part of the letter, the sisters wrote that they were unhappy that the case had been closed and that people had forgotten about them. They were unhappy that their parents also wanted to forget about them. They were unhappy that their parents had decided to start over and had a new child. A young boy named John. They were upset that their parents never talked about their daughters and their tragic murder to their new son, John. John Smith, sent an angry reply, saying that he didn't believe what they were telling him. He didn't believe that the Smith sisters were really involved with him, and he didn't believe that the newspaper article was real. He sent them to hell. Five minutes later, he received another message from them. It said: "If you don't believe us, look in the closet in the bedroom." This was the last message found on John's computer. The police were unable to trace who sent the message. On the floor of the closet, the police found a vague message carved into a piece of wood. It read "Lisa and Sarah – 1993?" Below it was another message: "John 2007?" No one knows what happened to John next, but one morning, John's parents woke up to find their son missing. Then they checked his bedroom, and there they found the biggest shock of their lives. They found the body of their son. He was alive. No one knows what really happened that night. The police were only able to piece together some of the stories they found on John's computer. The parents were devastated. How could this have happened to their family? First, their daughters were killed. And now, after so many years, their son was also killed in the same way, in the same place. It seemed too strange to be just a coincidence. Two sisters were killed, and then, many years later, their brother was killed in the same way, in the same place. And the only evidence in this case were a few disturbing electronic messages... It makes you think. 2nd option: One night, the girl was browsing her Yahoo! Instant Messenger when a boy started writing to her. He told the girl that he was her "secret admirer", but the girl didn't believe him, and told him to stop, but the guy ignored everything she said. Finally, the guy told the girl that he was coming to her house, and hung up. This scared the girl very much, so she closed all the windows and doors, and decided to sleep with her younger sister. However, the girl heard a knock on the window. She went to the window, but saw nothing, and thought it was a branch. The girl returned to the bed next to her sister, and felt a terrible smell. She checked what it was, and discovered that her sister was dead. The sight of her sister's corpse caused her to panic, so she hid in the closet in case the killer was in the room. She didn't know what to do. Then, the girl looked through the gaps in the wardrobe, and noticed a man approaching the wardrobe. When he found the girl, he pulled her out of the wardrobe and killed her. The next morning, the sisters' parents found their bodies. They had peeled their skin off and hung the corpses in the wardrobe. Two years after the murder, they had a new baby. The room where the sisters were killed became the boy's room. Perhaps, twelve years later, the boy was sitting at his computer, using his Yahoo! Instant Messenger, when he received a message. The user, who sent the message, told the boy that she was his older sister, but the boy didn't believe her because he was the only child in the family, and his parents hadn't told him anything about her. The boy then replied to him, saying that he was the only child in the family, and that if he had a sister, his parents would have told him about her. But then, the girl told the boy that she had died 15 years ago, in 1993, with her younger sister. The girl also told the boy to look in the closet if he didn't believe they had been killed. Then the girl passed out, leaving the boy in confusion. He opened the closet and found writings on the floor. The next morning, the boy went downstairs. It was very quiet when I was there. I thought my parents were still asleep in bed. However, a few hours later, I found my parents hanging in the closet, dead. They had their skin peeled off while they were still alive. Then I found carved inscriptions under the hanging corpses, which read:… "I told you I wouldn't lie." Little brother, I loved Mom and Dad… but they made me a secret. I can't believe it. I'm free from this cold world. I didn't want to cause them pain with their deaths. I love you!” - Lisa Smith...

My grandmother lived in the village her whole life; the people there are superstitious and believe in the mystical. So, every house had its own stories about something mystical and incomprehensible. My grandmother was a great storyteller and constantly told me stories about the villagers. The most interesting events happened during the New Year's holidays in January. They say this is the most mystical time of year. And here are a few stories. One evening, after Vespers (which was previously called a gathering), a group of young people were gathered in the apartment of an elderly woman, singing, dancing, playing the accordion, drinking tea, and offering the woman treats. One young man was returning home. He was tired of dancing and decided to leave early, without waiting for anyone. He walks down the street and sees a haystack in the middle of the road, from one gate to the other, blocking the way. He decides to climb over it. He starts climbing, his legs and arms sink into the soft hay, he can't get a grip on anything. He had been drinking for a while and decided to go back, to find out who had brought such a large pile of hay in the middle of the night, and right on the road, so that he couldn't get past. He went into the house, where the young people were having fun, and they were all teasing him, asking him where he had been, and how he had come, covered in hay. He started to complain and get angry. No one believed him; everyone had crossed that road in the evening, and there was no hay there. They went together to see, reached the place that the man described, but there were no straw pieces. The evening was warm, the moon was shining brightly, and several young people went for a walk in the village. They walked happily, singing and playing in the snow. They saw three sacks, filled with something, standing near the road to a large snowdrift. They were curious about who had left the sacks in the middle of the village and what was inside. They opened them, and there was money inside. The young men were delighted, wondering who had put the money in their pockets or under their arms. One young man suggested taking the sacks home, as he lived nearby, and they could divide the money in the morning. We agreed on that. They took the bags, put them in the barn, and went home. We woke up the next morning and smelled a bad odor. We went to check the clothes, and where the money had been, there were horse droppings. Everyone rushed to the guy who had the bags of money left, and they started looking. The bags were there, but the money was gone. They were full of horse manure. Also, the youth were walking around the village when they heard screaming. They looked around and saw a pig running towards them. They decided to catch the pig and ride the girls on it. They managed to catch it, but the girls refused to ride. What to do when all efforts are in vain, you need to let the pig go. One man says, "Let's mark it so we can find out tomorrow who is letting their pigs out of the sty at night." He took a knife and cut off the pig's ear, and it squealed with a voice that wasn't its own, and ran away. The crowd wandered around for a while and then went home."}** In the morning, a young man woke up, who was feeding pigs, and had breakfast. His mother says, "Our grandmother is sick, she's lying on the stove, she asked you to bring her some water to drink.". The young man pours a cup of water and takes it to his grandmother. He brings it and sees that his grandmother's head is wrapped in a scarf and she has a wound on one side."}...

It's impossible to predict where you'll find it, where you'll lose it. In my case, definitely. I still can't understand – was this a funny coincidence or a permanent curse. I could have imagined what would come of it... But even if I knew, I wouldn't have changed anything. If only you could imagine how annoying my work, my hobby, whatever you want to call it, is. I've been bored for a long time taking people away... Basically, I want to bring peace to people, according to God's will. Hey, you up there! Yes, I'm addressing you! Why aren't you responding? Silence. I've been hearing this emptiness as a response for 1000 years, and it's eating me up inside. I wish I could just give up and run away. I know it won't work out - chaos will ensue, but this thought brings me comfort. I'm tired of it all. Day after day, hour after hour, the same thing, no variety. I'm tired of these wings, which will never allow me to fly to heaven, although I'm willing to accept hell. This cursed cloak, which only covers my terrible appearance, my bones. Some kind of uniform, damn it. A friend of mine, Archangel, said recently: "In these terms, you're very young, a promising child." It finally dawned on me what kind of mess I was in, a cult, damn it. "Promising"... I just hope they don't abuse me, it's better if they don't know what this thing is like. But you people are so amusing."}** Do you still think I should have a braid and a long list of people I'll visit for a final farewell? After making a joke about one, now everyone thinks I'm an enemy of the people. It's like the Middle Ages. After all, it all started then, all this nonsense. It's interesting to see what other desperate people have played with Lucifer, and what exactly would need to happen to a future candidate in order for them to take such a risk, but we'll get to that later. However, in my case, it was worth it… She lived a good life… I didn't go to her until the last… Surprisingly, in my head, she recognized familiar features, which is why she studied medicine… She remembered me… A strange and forgotten feeling gripped my chest at that moment… It was a unique case when I risked taking off my hood… Her eyes, her smile, her… I didn't have the strength to despair... And what a beautiful spark it had - life. By the way, you know nothing about my project. At first, I found her appealing and even amusing. However, the old methods didn't appeal to me; it was all so tasteless: come, take, leave. No, that would make it too quick and dry, like in movies. I'm looking for new approaches where they don't exist in the first place. Don't think of me as a sadist, I still feel pain when I see someone dying, of course, not as much as the first time. However, I try to at least exchange a few words, so that even in their final moments, the person can think, "Damn, he's not such a bad guy as I thought." In most cases, it seems that superstitious people were not very talkative in the past, but now there seems to be a general lack of communication. After exchanging a few phrases, the client retreats into another world. And, as one might put it more clearly, the spark of his life, his soul, hangs suspended in front of his face. Here, you need to seize the opportunity and immediately capture this spark in your box, otherwise it will explode into thousands of fragments. You know, it's not very fun to collect all the fragments, especially since I have other things to do. Once I have collected a certain number of sparks, I give the box to the cleansing and take the empty one back. As far as I know, there is a trial taking place, determining whether someone goes to heaven or hell. I don't know how it works, no one has told me. The only thing I can add is that I often hear the phrase "every action has its consequences" while passing by. Well, at least let's not be deceived. "I know many who managed to negotiate with a couple of devils to keep quiet. Corruption exists even here. Isn't that right? You can hear me! How much longer must I suffer? Vile people. A clear example, a young man comes to mind. He wasn't a simple kid, but he introduced himself to Mr. Colth. I asked him: 'Why?'" You had everything that many people dream of!" He replied: "Really? You're mistaken, I have nothing. Money is meaningless. What was the point of my life? My loved ones died during a flight to America... the plane's engines failed. Since then, I've only been surrounded by pathetic sycophants. I've given away all my possessions to children's homes. I finally snapped and pushed the button."} "I don't care if I fall, I can't take it anymore, let the devil judge me, I'm sure he'll take me. Who would teach me like that? He came up, talked to me, and that's it – freedom, or at least peace. I want to give you one important piece of advice: don't make the same mistakes as me, for better or worse."} When a significant loss occurs in your life, when it seems like everything is over and lost, something may appear. Don't be surprised, it's this very thing you'll feel. On average, it's a man in black. Never, I implore you, speak to him. This creature knows exactly when to appear… in difficult moments, you are ready to give everything… life… soul… everything you have… and it knows this. If the conversation has started, the creature will offer you what seems like a harmless game at first. Believe me, this game will not be worth it. Drop everything and run away as fast as you can, preferably to the church, where it won't follow. Pray for forgiveness of sins, for the demon has appeared before you. You may argue that there are many like him, but that is a fallacy. He is the only one – Satan's messenger, all the other devils. You will easily be able to distinguish him – remarkably handsome, intelligent, self-assured, cunning, with a haughty gaze. Playing with him never ends well; it's like playing "The Lie Detector." The only condition is that your soul is at stake. If you win, in other words, if you tell the truth, you get your soul back with a bonus. If I lost, he would take her to eternal torment. She was dying in my arms… someone beat her up when she arrived at our meeting place. I suspect who it could have been… there were no other people nearby… with every movement I made, trying to lift her, she was bleeding more and more… I prayed for her… And then he appeared. He approached me, smiled, looked me in the eyes, and suggested we play a game. I agreed. The question was simple: "Do you really want her to live? A girl who loves you, but who has also changed you a couple of times. How strong is your feeling?" At that moment, all the grievances and unspoken words came to mind."}** I was able to dispel all my doubts and realized that I wanted this only out of my own selfishness. The thought occurred to me that it was better for her to go, that it was time. And I replied: «No…» He smiled and kept his promise. He ran his hand over her face… and, miracle of miracles, her breathing returned to normal… I heard shouts in the distance… and he shook me by the shoulder. In that instant, my body fell to the ground, but my spirit soared. As I flew, I saw her tears…as she embraced my body, taking upon itself all her wounds…Yes, I had my soul back, with a rather significant bonus – immortality. May it be thrice cursed. Following immortality, I was granted wings and a cloak. And I became the one that many feared – the dark angel, or death, in common parlance. Something that will never have either white or burnt wings. One eternity knows how long my restless soul will wander. I hope that someone will eventually come along and defy my advice, even if I have to wait another 1000, or even more years. Someone else will take my place. Then I will find peace… What will happen to me then? A riddle whose answer is known only to God and the Devil. But for now, I must perform my mundane tasks with a glimmer of hope in my dry heart....

Legend: Almost everyone is familiar with the feeling of being in their room and suddenly feeling like someone is watching them. This eerie ability of our brain often leads to stories about ghosts. You can hear someone whispering from the depths of the house, and in the morning you might find a strange message on your forehead. All of these fears are quite irrational, aren't they? Truth: A 57-year-old Japanese man began to notice that small objects in his house were moving around on their own. Food would disappear, even though he was certain he hadn't eaten it. Strange noises would wake him up at night, but every time, the front door and windows were securely locked. There was no one else in his house. The man had already started to think that he was going crazy. In order to identify the mysterious poltergeist, he had installed cameras throughout the house. And when he reviewed the film the next day, he was very surprised. In the best tradition of the film "The Ring", a strange woman emerged from his kitchen cabinet. He felt a real fear when she crawled back in. This closet was located close to the place where he was at that moment. The man assumed that she was a burglar who had temporarily entered his home. However, the arriving police said that the locks on his door had not been tampered with. After a thorough search, the woman was found in a small closet. It turned out that she had been living with a Japanese man for a whole year. So, there's a chance that a homeless Japanese woman could be watching you at any moment, even when you think you're alone....

In Keetow, on the island of Silt, a woman died during childbirth. After that, her ghost appeared several times to the priest's servants. She could not find peace in her grave until scissors, a needle, and thread were placed next to her. This is a custom in Northern Frisia. There are many ghosts in these places, which are called 'gonge', because those who were unjustly killed, or who moved property boundaries or plowed another person's land, do not find peace after death. Also, the spirits of blasphemers, suicides, and those who cursed themselves become gonge. These corpses cannot be touched, as they will burn, turn black, and fall off. When someone drowns in the sea, they inform their relatives. Although these corpses are not immediate relatives, they may meet with their relatives several generations removed. The ghost appears in the same clothes in which he drowned — in the evening twilight or at night. He looks at his front door and presses on it with his hands. Sometimes he wanders around the house, but soon disappears and returns the next evening — at the same time. At night — usually in heavy, waterlogged boots — he opens the door to the room, turns off the light, and lies down on the bed next to the sleeping person. In the morning, the room is full of seawater that has spilled from his clothes. If these signs do not convince relatives that he actually drowned, the hoaxer continues to fabricate stories until they begin to believe in his death. The hoaxer also provides other evidence: he claims that one sailor with two sons set sail from Amrum with a cargo of grain bound for Holland. The youngest son didn't want to swim and tried to persuade his mother to leave him at home, but she said that her husband had given his consent and that he had to go swimming. As they were on their way to the harbor in Bosque, he told his mother and those who were accompanying them: "Remember us as you pass over these stones." That night, all three of them perished. The sailor's sister lived in his house, and at night she spread her white handkerchief on the bedside table, and the next morning she found three drops of blood on it. She realized that her relatives had died and had come to her in the night....

Several more nights passed, and the ballerina continued to dance the same dance. Soon it was time to leave the camp. Perhaps Lyke should have left the doll in the camp and not returned, but everything that was happening fascinated her, and she took it with her. However, contrary to expectations, the spirit did not appear at home. Time passed, and a new school year had begun. Lika had already forgotten everything that had happened. One day, while returning from school, she saw a poster that read "Predictions". Since she had nothing to do that day, she decided to go inside. The girl thought that this room should be dark and filled with amulets, as was typical in such salons for attracting customers. Instead, she found a spacious room that was also well-lit. A woman in her 50s, dressed in ordinary clothes, gestured for Lika to sit at the table. When she sat down, the woman began to perform the divination. Lika was waiting for something exciting, but nothing happened. And indeed, what could one expect from such a thing? Although… when Lika was about to leave, she caught a glimpse of a photograph of a girl… where could she have seen it… It was that ballerina! Lika asked: "Who is this woman?" - This is my daughter, she died 16 years ago. She was going to a camp, and there… - At this moment, the woman stopped speaking and lowered her head: - Go away, get out of here, - she shouted, - But remember, a year, two years will pass, but that doesn't mean the spirits have calmed down or forgotten… They're just waiting!" Lika was frightened and ran out of the room. And again, when it was time to stop, Lika acted quickly and recklessly. She was curious about the dance that the ballerina was performing. She enrolled in a ballet school, but they didn't even know about this type of dance. Meanwhile, the spirit kept coming at night… As a result, Lika was distracted, and she couldn't dance anymore. Then she had to stop her lessons, as she broke her arm. Later, she returned, but even then, she broke her arm again. It was as if someone didn't want her to succeed… (well, everyone knows who). Parents soon forbade their daughter from attending ballet lessons, as she frequently suffered fractures. But Lika continued to practice alone at home, never discovering what the dance was… One night, when Lika saw the ghost again, she couldn't resist and approached her, asking: "What dance are you doing every night?" The ballerina replied in a mournful voice: "This is my dead dance, with it I will never come to terms with the fact that I am dead, and that others will see and believe in..." Me… Teach me… For this, you must die… Well… The ballerina stabbed Lika in the heart, she fell, and the spirit’s amulet became even more red… Now Lika is dancing this dance, and the fact that the spirit’s amulet had red stones before Lika fell also suggests that she is not the first… Nor the last…...

Objects scattered throughout the world are, obviously, chosen by higher powers in a random order. Some say that if all the Objects are gathered together, the world as we know it will come to an end; others say that it will be the true beginning of the world. And, regardless of the goals, something compels different people to seek these things, to protect them, destroy them, or reunite them. These people are born with an unnatural desire, almost an obsession, to achieve this goal. Many of them are willing to die for it; and even more are willing to kill for it. These are the Seekers. Their gift – their curse – their only destiny in life is to find Objects. Anyone who comes into contact with an Object, knowing what it is, risks becoming a Seeker. Some are content with a single Object. Others spend their entire lives searching. The Objects themselves can be anything, from a simple button to a living being. While some of them are used by Seekers, whose twisted soul has left its mark on the Object (some claim the opposite is true), all Objects can be used for the greater good or personal gain. However, there are also rules related to Objects; The Seeker cannot give away an Object. It can only be taken by force, obtained through honest means, or the owner must die of natural causes. Objects cannot be discarded. If this happens, he will return to his owner through a series of coincidences (The Legend of the Black Pearl is a story about one of the Objects). The seeker must be careful when handling the Object, otherwise he risks going insane. Then he will become the Guardian. The Guardian is the immortal shell of the Seeker, doomed to eternally protect their precious Object. The Guardian will pose a question, a series of questions, or a riddle or logic puzzle to the Seeker they encounter. The Seeker who succeeds in the trials will obtain the Object, while the Seeker who fails will take the Guardian's place... If he's lucky. Here are some examples of well-known objects: Coin: When placed under the tongue, it gives the owner knowledge of all languages. The markings on it are made in an unknown civilization's language. Apart from these unnatural markings, the coin looks like any other coin. It is said that the Coin allows one to understand animal language just as well as human language. It also allows one to translate written language, including encrypted language. However, the Coin is powerless against the language of Objects. Key: This Key fits any lock and creates a portal to any other door with a similar lock. They say that the Key cannot be hidden from its owner - the Key easily opens any door or safe. The Key is almost indistinguishable from ordinary keys, except for the inscriptions on it, which are very similar to the markings on the Monet coin. Knife: capable of cutting through absolutely anything. If thrown at a titanium block, it will penetrate the block through the handle. Even with the use of a powerful microscope, no markings were found on the Knife. It looks like an ordinary kitchen knife, and it is easy to confuse due to the lack of markings. Chain: If both ends of the Chain touch objects, the Chain will bind them together, and no one except the owner of the chain will be able to separate them. This is a simple iron chain, about a meter long, with twenty-three links. Mirror: creates a double of the chosen person, including their Guardian. The double is indistinguishable from the original. It is said that the Mirror is flat, frameless, about the size of a palm, and highly polished. Cup: once filled with liquid, it never runs dry. The cup can hold any liquid, and any new liquid will completely displace the old. The cup looks like a regular glass, except for one small crack. Notebook: Everything the owner writes in the notebook, they will never forget. If the notebook is passed on to a new owner, they will gain the knowledge of the previous owner. The owner can freely use the Notebook's knowledge, but if someone else tries to do so, they will face hardship and terrible curses. The Notebook looks quite ordinary, except for the notes on the "Monet" and "Key". When you flip through the pages of the Notebook, you will experience unusual sensations. Its back cover is written in "Object Language". Some believe that the rules are written there, regarding Objects. Wolf: a living Object, capable of sensing the hostile attitude of humans towards its owner, whom it is loyal to. It looks more like a green-furred animal with three jaws instead of two, rather than a wolf. Camera: Polaroid, which acts as a window, extending the owner's field of vision in any direction. However, it has limitations - it cannot pass through solid material or reach space, but its effect can spread very far along the surface of the planet. None of these objects can be destroyed, although rumors circulate that each Object can destroy a specific other Object. If that's true, they might be able to go back. According to rumors, no destroyed Object has disappeared for long. These were just a few examples of Objects that I know about. My time is running out. They've caught me. I'll be killed soon. But I'm leaving this information for you. This is your gateway to the world of Objects. If you believe in this, then you must bear this burden. I laugh at you, but now nothing will change, now this information belongs to you. In addition to the Seekers, who search for the Objects, there are also the Guardians, who protect them. They have no names, and I will call them the Lost, because the Objects have consumed their souls. Don't be afraid... I want to give you a warning: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO FIND THE DIARY, LETTER, OR......

I'm writing a fictional legend, as I don't remember the real names [Father - Fedor, mother - Elena, son - Slav, grandmother - Maria Nikolaevna]. It all started a long time ago, when there was still life in this house, belonging to a normal family. A normal family, no different from others, consisting of three people: a father, a mother, and a son. The only thing that marred their happiness was the father's addiction to gambling. And after another game, he returned home and saw a gypsy near the gate. Approaching him, he asked, "What do you need?" The gypsy said that he wanted to ask for permission to stay at their house; the father refused, and the gypsy offered to play a game with him, and if he won, he would stay at their house with the family. Fedor couldn't refuse, and in the end, he lost. Yevgenia felt that these circumstances were not good, and she begged her husband to ask the gypsy to leave, or to honestly pay back the debt, but Fedor simply waved his hand, saying that everything would be fine. Slav was confused and a little scared to see strangers in his own home, and he asked his mother to let him stay with his grandmother until the gypsy family left. A week passed, and the gypsies lived in the house, and the tension and irritation grew, as the gypsy family seemed to be living in their own home. Yevgenia went to her mother for the second week, but that evening, sensing something was wrong, she returned. She saw her husband, who was very drunk, playing with the gypsy and whispering: "Please, let me win, because I've already lost everything..." Yevgenia ran to him and began to shout and get angry, and then Fedor suddenly sobered up and realized that he had made a terrible mistake, and he began to brutally drive the gypsy out of the house, refusing to pay the debt. As he was leaving, the gypsy said: "Your game has destroyed your will and your soul, and it will destroy you and your family." He threw a deck of cards on the table, then stood up and left with his family."} Fedor, having sat with his head down, decided to look at the map, which turned out to be the Queen of Spades. Not giving this any significance, Fedor and Eugene went to sleep. In the morning, worried about the disappearance of Svetoslav, Eugene's mother came to their house, but no one opened the door for her, and she entered using a spare key. Maria Nikolaevna was in shock, not finding Fedor, Eugene, and Svetoslav, she entered the living room and saw the very same map on the table. The search for the family was fruitless; Maria Nikolaevna had been trying for many years to find them, but she never succeeded. Since then, this house has been empty and is considered cursed....

Hello, dear reader. The legend is taken from the internet. I hope you will appreciate it. Long ago, when the Crimean principality of Feodoro on Mount Mangup was at its peak, its inhabitants decided to build a powerful defensive wall to protect the city from enemy invasion. But no matter how hard the builders worked, the wall was repeatedly destroyed. And then, obeying the prophecy, the son of the city's leader was walled up in a stone. Since then, for hundreds of years, the inhabitants of the surrounding villages have seen the boy in old-fashioned clothes, surrounded by a glow. His lips move silently, as if he wants to say something or warn someone... "In the late 1960s, three young tourists, around the end of October, ventured into Mangup. The weather was terrible - wind and rain. They had already set up their tent and were preparing to sleep, when suddenly, a child's cry came from somewhere behind the wind." Not the cry of a baby that could be mistaken for the "voice" of some animal! The child, about 6-7 years old, was crying and sobbing loudly. One of the friends came out to see who was lost. And he disappeared. And he also disappeared. And the child continued to cry... Two days after this night, the residents of the village of Zalesnoye went to Mangup to collect the harvested hay. They also found a tent covered in snow, in which a completely gray young man was sitting and repeating: "He's crying, he's always crying!" Someone might say that this is a typical story. The kind that always scare newcomers to the mountains. However, one of the authors personally held the report of the Bachchisaray District Rescue Service for 1966, which stated that two tourists disappeared in the Mangupa area in October. Three days later, both were found: one in the area of the Ternovka village, 4 km from Mangupa, and the other near the Kuybyshev settlement (5.5 km from Mangupa) – alive. Both were taken to the regional psychiatric hospital with a diagnosis of "Mental disorder due to severe emotional shock". They don't remember what happened to them and can't explain how they ended up there. That's how it was... The Mangup boy has been heard about repeatedly, especially during bad weather and in winter. No one knows exactly who he is. Some legends say that this is the spirit of the youngest son of Prince Alexander, cursed by his father for betraying his father's faith and converting to Islam. Others say that it is simply a child who survived the massacre of December 1475, wandering through the ruins of his hometown and searching for his parents. Who knows......

There is a urban legend in the US that if you manage to sit on three benches at a cemetery between midnight and the first minute of the first hour, you will be able to see ghosts, but you will have to pay for it with your life... And so, on Halloween night in 1976, three high school students decided to test this legend. Arriving at the cemetery in a car, two classmates started running around the benches, while the third remained sitting in the car. Observing his friends, he realized that something was wrong. They were frantically gasping, rolling on the ground, and one of his friends started foaming at the mouth. He ran to help them, and they grabbed his legs, as if begging for help. They say he also saw ghosts at that moment. A few minutes later, both friends sitting on the benches were dead, and the one who had initially been sitting in the car was stunned and never spoke another word for the rest of his life....

And when Grigory the Enlightener came to teach the Armenians, many, possessed by demons, tried to prevent him. They terrorized and killed those who came to him in search of Truth. But Grigory taught many and was able to establish the monastery of Parbi on the slopes of Mount Aragats. Then Grigory's enemies were enraged and plotted sacrilege. Once, during a liturgy that Gregory was conducting in Parbi, where there was only a small church at the time, villains threw a furious dog directly at the doors. They hoped that the dog would bite the saint and his flock. "If your God is powerful," the villains shouted with laughter, "Heal this dog!" Gregory raised his hand. The dog shivered, and the foam stopped flowing from its mouth. The blood-filled eyes cleared. The dog, happily barking, emerged from the church completely healthy. The saint and his flock thanked God. From this time on, people who had been bitten by rabid dogs were brought to Parbi, and all of them were cured. But the villains did not relent, and they informed King Tiridatus about Gregory. "He says that your power is nothing compared to his God," they whispered to the king. "He will learn that I have the power to make him renounce this God," the king sneered, and ordered Gregory to be seized. "And I realized that you were teaching my subjects to worship not me, but your God," said Tiridat when the saint was brought before him in chains." "Give it up, or I'll have you thrown into the hob-virab, a terrible pit full of scorpions and snakes!" "Do with me as you wish," the saint replied. "I am not afraid of you, but you will be afraid of the wrath of my God!" "Throw him into the pit!!" the king shouted. "Let the scorpions and snakes devour him!" "No one has survived a day in this pit!" "You are angering my God, King," the saint said. — Look, whatever he does, he won't be afraid of snakes for the rest of his days.» But no one understood these words. And the royal servants threw Gregory into a terrible pit, and then left, confident that he would die before they reached the palace. And other people, including those who Gregory had taught, thought the same. Only one poor widow did not believe that God would allow such a gruesome death. And the next day, she quietly came to the pit, bringing with her food. And she saw that the saint was alive and unharmed at the bottom of the pit, which was full of snakes and scorpions. Then the widow gave him food. And so she began to study secretly every day. Meanwhile, King Tiridat was feasting in his palace. And then, right during the feast, something terrible happened: the king's body was covered from head to toe with thick fur. His teeth began to grow and turned into fangs, and his nose elongated into a grotesque pig-like snout. And then, he was no longer a human, but a wild boar, sitting at the feast! The courtiers fled in terror. But no one remembered the words of the saint. Meanwhile, it was known that the wild boar is the only animal that is immune to snake venom. A bite from the most venomous snake does not harm the boar. What rewards were offered to whoever could return the king his human form! Wizards and doctors came to the palace. But their efforts were in vain. For fifteen years, Grigory languished in the snake pit. And on the fifteenth year, Tsarevna Khosrovdukh, sister of Tiridat, had a prophetic dream. The princess dreamed that in the pit, teeming with scorpions and snakes, a living and unharmed man was suffering. And the princess heard a terrible voice that said: "This is the wrath of My upon Tiridat!" "Because he wanted to kill Gregory with snakes, I made him the very creature that doesn't fear snakes. Only Gregory's intervention can restore his human form!». And the princess, waking up, rushed to her brother and told him everything. Then the courtiers went to the snake pit. And they saw Gregory alive and unharmed."}」 Then they drew the saint from the pit and fell to his feet, begging him not to remember evil and to help King Tiridat. And Gregory went to the king's chambers and prayed for him. And God heard his prayer and restored Tiridat's human form. And the king's heart was filled with joy, and he asked Gregory to baptize him, his family, and all his kingdom. And at that place, where the pit... A terrible pit was built on the banks of the Aras River, and a church was constructed there. And they named her Hob-Virab. The hermit concluded his story: — Never forget this, children. There is no miracle that God could not perform if you have faith. And now I will lead you to the path that will take you closest to the fortress. And in the future, please don't come here unnecessarily, so as not to disturb me during my prayers. — Bless us, holy man, — Tigran asked. The hermit blessed the children and said: — You, boy, will grow up in the fortress. If God does not will otherwise — you will be a warrior. Remember, if enemies of the Christian faith come to the country — war with them is pleasing to God. And you, girl, pray more to Saint Ripsime, whom two great kings asked in marriage, but she refused them both because she was faithful to the Christian faith. But hurry, because it's getting late, and as I see it, it's becoming an unsuitable time for young children to be out of the house. The children didn't understand the hermit's last words, but they hurried down the path he had indicated, seeing that it was already getting dark. The path descended steeply, but it quickly led them to the fortress. When the children reached the gates, it became dark. The guard had already come out to lock the gates, and the children were afraid that he would get angry and hit them. But the guard only shouted at them to hurry in, and then the bolts slammed shut. They didn't scold the children or reprimand them for returning late. Something strange was happening in the fortress. As usual, smoke rose from the hearths in the inner courtyards: women were baking oat cakes and frying lamb for dinner. But there was no cheerful chatter, as the housewives greeted each other over a pinch of pepper or a pinch of salt, and also stopped at the doorway to wash the neighbor's bones. The men were not leisurely drinking young homemade wine. It seems that even the little ones were playing quietly, sensing the trouble from the adults. Tigran and Manushak had lived so little, that they were unfamiliar with all this. A person who had lived longer would immediately have understood that anxiety had entered the fortress. A wave of anxiety swept through the streets, and wherever it passed, laughter and smiles ceased. In the house of the "Bull," the military council was in session. Two scouts — young soldiers with silent feet and keen eyes, capable of navigating the steep and inconspicuous goat paths, were addressing the prince and the centurions. The prince's face was grim, and the centurions were concerned. "Using the darkness, we got very close to the road and heard Persian being spoken," said the senior scout."}क — But even without that, it was clear that the Persians were coming. They had Persian helmets, Persian shields, and Persian swords. The night prevented us from counting the people, but we counted about a dozen war elephants. There was also a large caravan following the army. They had long ladders and stone-throwing machines with them. — The followers of Ormuzd and Mitra are once again bringing the war into Christian lands, — the oldest of the centurions said sadly. — How many days' journey did you travel to meet the Persians? — asked Badesh. — We met them in five days, — replied the scout. — And they were two ahead, because they were running lightly. The Persians are three days away from here.— The gates of Nair will be closed, — said Badesh, and the centurions responded with a silent agreement. The council lasted all night. The prince gave orders. It was necessary to count the supplies in the warehouses, to strengthen the walls, and to prepare the weapons. It was necessary to determine each person's place during the siege and battle. War was a burden — but the soldiers were glad that the worries had lasted for three days, anticipating the war. He left the room where the council was taking place, slowly, and went out into the courtyard, standing by the extinguished fire under the starry, clear sky. Beshkh took a deep breath — soon, both day and night, the fortress would forget peace and quiet. And then he noticed a boy hiding behind a wooden column. — What are you doing here, nephew? — Beskh said sternly. — Don't you know that boys shouldn't listen to what men are saying? — Please forgive me, Uncle! — said the boy. "I won't be enrolling anymore, just tell me what a war elephant is?" — "How old are you, nephew?" — asked Bedesh with a gloomy smile. — "Nine, Uncle," — replied Tigran. — "A nine-year-old boy doesn't know what a war elephant is," — Bedesh mused. — "So, the country of Nairi hasn't seen foreign invasions for more than nine years. Then, it's time." Good things end the same way as bad things. An elephant is a huge animal with large ears and a very long nose, which serves as its hand. — What kind of skin does it have — striped like a tiger? — No, it's smooth, like a cow's. — Is it bigger than a cow? — Much bigger. An elephant can crush a person with its foot, and use its trunk to lift a large log. However, the rider on horseback will not be able to reach the horses with his spear—Will I soon see these animals, Uncle? — asked Tigran with delight. — Unfortunately, you will see them, foolish boy, — smiled the prince. — Don't laugh at me, Uncle! — blushed Tigran. — I am already big and I understand that these animals bring us evil. I just want to see them! "Uncle, but haven't you already given everyone tasks for the siege? What am I supposed to do? — You? Your war hasn't even begun. You'll be carrying baskets of stones and arrows to the walls with the other boys. — Yes, and here's another thing! — the prince frowned. — Tomorrow, take a girl with you and go to live with the fortune-teller, Mariam." "If the fortress is stormed, my wife will die with me, but in the old woman's humble dwelling, you may not find us. — But uncle… — When do children object to adults? Do as I said, and from tomorrow, don't bother me with conversations, I won't have time for a boy." But remember, my brother's son, that I always loved you as my own son. The prince turned and went into the house. The boy remained in the dark courtyard, afraid that someone would see the tears in his eyes. He realized that his uncle had forgiven him forever. And the next morning, the fortress was bustling with activity. The stonemasons mixed mortar, laden carts laden with stones ascended to the gates and returned empty, hammers rang in the forges. Children ran from one place to another, having fun as if it were a festival. But even the adults were cheered up - the work was driving them crazy. Unnoticed in this hustle and bustle, a fat, wandering merchant with a thin, feminine voice entered the fortress. They didn't pay attention to him because he was coming from the opposite side of where the Persians were expected. How could the defenders of the fortress know that this was not a merchant, but a trusted trickster of the Persian king, who had deliberately set out earlier than the troops in order to encircle the fortress and approach it from within the country? — You've chosen a bad day, Father Air, — one of the soldiers said mockingly. — Neither a woman nor a merchant would buy a gold ornament now out of fear that it would not last long. Ignoring these words, the merchant led his heavily laden donkey to the house of Badesh. He told the servant who greeted him that he wanted to show the princess his wares. The maid went to the princess and asked: "Your Highness, a merchant of jewelry has arrived. Should I send him away?" — "No," replied Jangyulum. — Bring him here, I want to see what he has brought. The maid thought that it was not good for the princess to admire jewelry when her husband was preparing for a difficult war, but she did not dare to say so. She led the merchant to the princess's richly carpeted chambers. The merchant, with low bows, laid out his wares before the beautiful woman: gold bracelets with delicate engraving, rings and colorful beads, gold chains and bone combs. Jangyulum's eyes lit up: she leaned over the jewelry, examining and selecting. The old servant dared nothing more. She started to argue, but looked at the princess with such anger that she became uncomfortable. — What are you doing standing there? — Go to work, I'll call you when I need you. The maid left, and the cunning man rejoiced. He had a dozen ways in his head to say a few words to the princess in secret, and it all happened by itself. — Oh, Flower of Beauty, whose fame spreads throughout the world, beautiful Jangyulum! "Such a necklace is worthy of your swan-like neck? Are your lily-like hands worthy of such bracelets?" — he said, watching as the princess tried on a golden necklace in front of a bronze mirror. — I don't understand you, merchant," — the princess frowned. — "Oh, you black-eyed one!" — the cunning man exclaimed. — Allow me to speak a few words without fearing your wrath.— Speak, and you will see whether I am angered or not, — replied the princess.All that the merchant needed was this. He spoke even flatteringly and sweetly:— Can I speak better than the mirror you hold in your hand? The rumor of your beauty has reached the ears of the King of Kings, the great Cyrus. Hundreds of beautiful black-haired beauties with star-like eyes adorn his harem. But none of them compares to you, whose face is like a full moon, and whose neck is as slender as a cypress. The heart of King Shapour burned with love for you, incomparable Jangyulum! — Oh, you, brazen fathead! — exclaimed the princess. "Your heels will answer for your tongue before my servants, for you dared to speak such words to my husband's wife!" - "Oh, serpent-tongued Jangyulum," the cunning man replied, undeterred. His mind was sharp and his eyes observant. He knew that the woman was not as angry as she appeared to be. - Who is your husband, standing beside the King of Kings?" Just a small fortress prince! Can he surround your beauty with the riches it deserves, like a ruby – a golden frame? Is it a great honor to be his wife? And will you even receive these small honors for long? Today you are a princess, but tomorrow you will be dragged away as a captive slave to the slave market! Truly, the wife of a border prince can live as peacefully as a person sleeping next to a lion's den! — You speak the truth, — sighed the princess. — Your fate is in your own hands, oh, incomparable one! Only wish, and you will become the first wife in the harem of the King of Kings! The other wives will serve you! King Shapur summons the best poets and commands them to sing of your beauty! Your feet will only tread on fabrics embroidered with gold! Wish—and you will leave this fortress like a pearl leaving an unremarkable shell and shine in the light of love from King Shapur!—No, one wish is not enough, — My husband will not give me up, even if the Tsar offers him to retreat from the Nairi borders in exchange! — Respond with love to the love of the King of Kings, and your heart will tell you what to do to quickly enter his harem, oh, sweet Jangyulum! And now, allow me to depart. And these ornaments, take them as a sign of the great Shahpur's residence, who sent me to you on a long journey to tell you about his love. With these words, the cunning man, bowing low, left the princess's chamber. He was satisfied. He knew that a woman's vanity was more dangerous than snake venom. And the princess remained sitting over the ornaments. But now she didn't even look at them. Two days had passed. The noise of the work had subsided. The fortress stood, like a person, frozen with a taut bow in anticipation of an animal's attack. The mighty gates were firmly closed. Arrow slits and javelins bristled. The people waited. We awaited the mountains — petrified ancient giants, who had witnessed countless human wars. The third day dawned with a faint sound, reminiscent of a river flowing over stones. The Persian army was approaching. The sound preceded it by several hours, like a shadow running ahead of a person. But then, in the sunlight, the metal shone. Helmets and shields, armor and spearheads gleamed. It seemed as if a serpent with golden scales was winding its way along the road, or that a river of shining metal was flowing. Elephants, wading up to their knees in this river, found it difficult to move. A little man, the elephant's handler, with a long bronze whip in his hand, sat on the neck of each elephant. On the elephant's back, armed people sat in an ornate pavilion. The sound of metal, the neighing of horses, and the clatter of wheels on the stones could be heard. And as the voices of the Persians and their black beards became audible, the river of war approached the stone dam. This marked the beginning of the siege of the fortress. Several days passed before the Persians decided to launch the first assault. Life had changed, and the children adapted to this change more quickly than the adults. Below, where there were previously only stones and the rustling of grass, and a bush stretched out, now bright tents were spread out. Lively horses whinnied, and the riders seemed to be taunting the inhabitants of the fortress, competing in agility. Campfires smoked — there were so many that at night, the darkness itself seemed to be blooming with red flowers. And in the mornings, the rays of the sun couldn't resist playing with the shiny metal. Sometimes, a well-aimed arrow from the walls would hit the horse or the pedestrian who had dared to get too close. And then, the little boy would fall to the ground, amusingly flailing his arms. What can I say, the boys loved this fun life! It was fun to watch the slow, powerful elephants — I would give anything to ride one! — It was fun to hear the clatter of weapons at every step, and to boast to each other while throwing stones at the enemy camp. Manushak also had a good time. Although the old widow had three times more work than usual, she somehow didn't chase the girl away. Instead:— Grind these roots in a mortar, Manushak!— Okay, Auntie!— Add this herb, dear!— I will, Auntie!— And now look— I'm putting the herb in so that it's twice as much as the roots. We'll mix it with rendered fat. This ointment should be applied when the wound becomes infected. This bark should be ground and soaked in fresh water. Apply it to the fresh wound to stop the bleeding. Did you remember? I remember, Aunt! I wish we could do this every year! And only when the first warrior fell, headfirst, next to the shattered stone gate, when the heavy, booming impact of the ram against the gates reached us from below, when the unfamiliar, screeching voices reached us from under the walls, culminating in screams under the stone rain — only then did the children become afraid. But the Persians... They advanced quickly, as if the first assault was not serious. King Shapur sent envoys, offering to surrender to the besieged. But the besieged did not respond with words, refusing to discuss the shameful matter: the envoy's head fell from the wall. And once again, days of quiet descended. On the carpets of his azure tent, embroidered with golden threads, King Shapur listened to the cunning man who knelt before him. —I will impale you if you are mistaken. Is it true that the fortress has no water of its own?— Oh, Great of the Great, whose will shakes the universe! — trembling, replied the stout man. I spent more than a day in the fortress, and there was no place where I didn't ask for a drink! I was never given cold water! The water was always as if it had been standing in a bucket for some time. I gave my horses water from the trough for livestock, into which water was also brought and poured. Perhaps their supplies are plentiful. But now we are drawing water from the source near the fortress for our horses. We must do this, or they will suffer from thirst.— I wouldn't waste time if I didn't expect it, — the king said grimly. — But it's better to sacrifice time than people. Did you speak well with that woman? — I was watering the flower of her vanity with the water of flattery, oh, Great One, — replied the cunning man. — But do not anger your servant — I am not responsible for the germination. You decided to wait, oh, wisest of all! Time will tell. Meanwhile, the boy Tigran stood by the prince's storerooms, watching the servants carry out empty bottles and pile them on the ground. — Why so many bottles? — he asked the approaching young soldier named David. — For water, you fool! — the latter laughed, showing his white teeth. "At other times, I would prefer to fill them with a cheerful wine, but sometimes life happens in such a way that water is sweeter and stronger than wine." — "And how will you fill the bottles?" — the boy asked skeptically. — "There is a Persian camp around our springs." — The warrior laughed again. — "You'll learn a lot soon, and then you'll get old! You can sleep all night and dream!" And for me, carrying water is the perfect job for a soldier! Well, no problem — tomorrow morning we'll drink fresh water, not the stale water we've been drinking for the last few days. With these words, the soldier put two large buckets on his shoulders. The soldiers unpacked the buckets. — What did you say? — We're going out at midnight? — Exactly midnight. The path was long. Seeing that no one else was paying attention to him, Tigran went to the widow's house, where he had lived since the beginning of the siege. It was getting dark, but the boy absolutely didn't want to sleep. All his thoughts were occupied with the fact that the soldiers were preparing to go out for water. Whoever it may be, Tigran, who had grown up in the fortress, knew perfectly well that there was no water there. Women always went to the wells near the gates, from where they carried the water in large buckets on their heads. The soldiers had gathered to fight in the darkness. Are they hoping to collect water unnoticed? No, this cannot be, enemy sentries are posted around the wells. Or will one group collect water while the other defends against the enemy? How many people will die! The boy was turning from side to side, trying to fall asleep. Sleep did not come to him. Finally, he found his clothes in the dark, got dressed, and quietly slipped out of the house. His legs carried him towards the prince's chambers. The soldiers were gathering on the square in the flickering light of the torches. — What are you doing here, rascal? "The old sergeant grabbed the boy by the ear. — I want water too! My uncle, Badesh, allowed it!" — Tigran lied. — Well, if Badesh allowed it, take the bucket. But be careful, don't fall when your legs start to give way!" — The centurion hurried away. Tigran joyfully grabbed the barrel. Several people with torches and barrels entered the small building attached to the warehouses. More soldiers followed. And another dozen! Tigran's eyes widened: how could they all fit in this tiny house?! And more and more people kept coming in. And then the boy understood. The stone slab in the middle of the floor had been moved to the side. Wide steps led down. The underground passage with rounded arches and tightly packed stone slabs, now illuminated by the flickering flames of torches, led into an endless distance. It smelled of dampness and something else, something strange and unsettling. Are there any terrifying figures, the 'maidens of the night', the witches with their long hair and snakes in their hands, wandering around here? People had been walking for an hour or two - it was impossible to see the stars above. Finally, a fresh scent of herbs came from somewhere. The people stopped, forming a chain underground. — Hold on, someone said angrily. Tigran held a frosty, bubbling bucket. A person behind him was already reaching for it. The boy realized that only two or three people had emerged from the passage. They were filling the buckets from the spring. No one would see or hear the activity happening in the distance from the fortress! It would be great to be in the place of those outside! To see the beautiful water of the moon, Lusin, sparkling in the sunlight, and to breathe in the damp scent of flowers! How long had my feet not walked on the living grass! Then came the return journey, which seemed much longer due to the heavy sack on my back. The light-colored stones of the square turned pink in the first rays of dawn. Days passed. The water in the fortress did not decrease. One could not say the same about food. The supplies from the royal storerooms were strictly rationed. Hunger hadn't yet arrived, but its signs were becoming apparent. The children were tired of watching the bearded Persians from the walls. Even the antics of the elephants were not as captivating to the boys. A sense of gloom had settled over the fortress. The old fortune-teller was increasingly gathering the dejected children in her small courtyard. Well, what are the old women gossiping about when they make potions and remedies for the wounded — language is free! And here, the old woman Mariam tells us about everything that remains beyond the walls of the fortress: — Aunt, why doesn't the sun shine at night, and why does its sister, the moon, come out? — The sun of Arev gets tired of shining all day and goes to its mother. That's why we call it "the entrance to the mother" - the Maya. And here is the beautiful Luzin, while Arew is with the mother in the palace, resting, and then bathing in Lake Van. — Aunt, is Lake Van really very big?— Yes, it's as big as the lakes with salty water like tears. — Can a person swim across it?— I don't know, dear, I don't know. All I know is that there was a brave man in the old days, who could do anything. — Aunt Mariam, tell us about this man! — The story is long, children. But we don't have time to waste, listen!...

Where the waves of the sea crash against the rocks, and where the submissive heather bends under the icy winds, the ancient castle of Heorot, built by the ancient skalds, stands with a sharp golden spire piercing the dark sky. Like a giant lantern, it pierced through the dense darkness of the winter northern nights. Inside this solitary castle, the hearths burned warmly and brightly, the flames crackled and flickered, torches were passed from hand to hand among the warriors of the Skald clan, bards sang laudatory songs to their valiant king, Hrothgar, and the strings of the lutes were plucked, and the music of light and joy warmed the souls. And outside, unnoticed in the darkness, a huge shadow of a strange creature glided. Neither human nor beast, it was enormous and covered in fur, moving slowly through the night's viscous fog, splashing through the swampy bogs. Its claws dug deep into the frozen mire. From time to time, his clawed paws would swiftly snatch up a drowsy prey – rabbits, ferrets, mice – and greedily tear apart the living, writhing body. He was old. And, it seems, he had been living since the creation of the world. For countless centuries and millennia, he had roamed the earth every night. He had spent millions, billions of nights, knowing nothing about the emergence of mankind on Earth. This did not interest him. For him, the world consisted of icy darkness and the intoxicating heat of the blood of the sacrificed victim. And then, the scent of the prey and the bright light drew his attention. The golden reflections of the torches lay on the ground, and the blue glow of the moon shimmered on the spire. He slowly crossed the island, pushing through the heather and stopped, trembling with rage, beneath the stone walls of Heorot. The melodies of harps floated in the air, dissolving into the night. Powerful, clawed hands, no, rather the strange creature's hands, rose and gripped, as if seizing prey. A deafening roar echoed in its throat. The dark, solitary creature was enraged by these carefree, light melodies and joyful sounds of songs. Whether it was the unusually bright light or an innate cunning, the beast remained hidden in the darkness until the songs ceased, the flames of the hearths died down, and the flames of the torches were extinguished. When everything was quiet and the warriors of Hrothgar, exhausted from sleep, lay still on their straw beds, he approached and, with all his might, pressed against the tall door of Heorot. With a groan and a creak, the door yielded and swung open. In the dim moonlight, filtering through the narrow windows, a sinister, furry shadow rose above the people lying in the darkness. A strange and repulsive creature turned its head from side to side, its nostrils, having caught the alluring scent of warm human bodies, greedily dilated. And the bloody feast began. The beast seized the bodies of the warriors, tearing them apart with its claws. A horrifying crack of tearing tendons, the crunch of breaking bones, the screams and groans of the dying filled the hall. The beast's jaws worked tirelessly, blood stained its matted fur, and a frothy, red foam bubbled from its snarling muzzle. No one had time to react, and the satiated beast had already vanished into the darkness, dragging two mangled warriors into its lair. All that remained were a pile of mutilated corpses. Only a few lucky ones, who had hidden in secluded corners, managed to escape. They spread the news of the horrific attack throughout the land. Thus began the unprecedented siege of Heorot, a nightmare that lasted for twelve years. The monster always attacked unexpectedly, and this night was becoming a night of death for anyone who encountered it. No one could withstand this ferocious, merciless force. No weapon could inflict even the slightest harm on the beast. Its power and cruelty seemed to be limitless. Soon, the roads of the island were lined with burial mounds on both sides. The remaining living warriors of Khrotgar no longer dared to approach Heorot. At night, they found shelter in the cramped sheep pens, and, awakened by the anxious bleating in the barns, they would sit, hidden and unable to leave the door until dawn. The Golden-Headed Heorot now stood abandoned, dark, and cold. Only the night-murderer, an unknown and tireless beast, would sometimes come here at night and howl, finding no prey. The skalds gave this beast the name Grendel. This ancient word meant "Stone-Grasper"......