Do you know that in England they officially keep a register of ghosts, from which they periodically delete spirits who have not been around for more than fifty years? Only now, the entities in this mysterious country It doesn't get any smaller! “Mystical tourism” even began to develop here. And the leader of the anomalies is the English village of Pluckley, more familiar to the general public as the “Village of Twelve Ghosts” or “Ghost Reserve”. It is located in the English county of Kent.
In general, it is worth noting that in the UK, otherworldly entities are not only respected, trying not to disturb them, but they are even proud if the house has its own ghost, proudly telling potential buyers about it when selling their real estate. According to surveys, seventy percent of Englishmen believe in the existence of spirits, twelve have seen them themselves, and the rest doubt it because they have not yet seen them with their own eyes. There are many haunted houses and castles in England, where residents successfully coexist with otherworldly forces, but in the village of Pluckley, an anomalous zone of the country, their number is off the charts. You can get to the village of Pluckley from the capital of England, London, in forty minutes by bus. According to ancient legends and stories of local residents, at least twelve ghosts constantly live here, which are seen not only by villagers, but also by visitors. This is precisely what attracts numerous curious people to the village who want to experience acute feeling, a surge of adrenaline and researchers of mystical and anomalous phenomena. The strange thing is that all these restless souls, out of thousands of English villages, chose Pluckley. But local residents have already come to terms with such a neighborhood and have even learned not to be afraid of incorporeal creatures, claiming that they are harmless and can only frighten an unprepared person with their unexpected appearance.
The most interesting thing is that digital instruments do not record any magnetic anomaly, so one group of researchers of anomalous zones suspected that this was a conspiracy of local residents in order to attract tourists, and they came to Pluckley the year before last to expose the deceivers . The day after their arrival, swarms of flies suddenly descended on the village, and it was the beginning of winter, and the air temperature was low, which was in no way conducive to such an invasion. Every day, while the researchers were here, the number of flies only increased: there were millions of them and everywhere - no chemicals could save them. Then the scientists decided to leave the village of Plakli, and all the flies mysteriously disappeared. But in an online blog, the researchers promised to return in attempts at the next revelation.
So, what kind of ghosts can you see in the English village of Pluckley?
Along the road that leads to Pluckley's neighboring village of Maltman's Hill, an empty carriage drawn by four ghostly horses passes several times a year. This carriage looks real, unlike the horses, but you shouldn't get close to it. They say that in 2007, the carriage was seen by a curious tourist who came to Plakli with friends. He jumped into it, and the “hellish” horses carried him away in an unknown direction. He has since disappeared.
Near the ancient bridge across the stream, you can often see the ghost of an old gypsy woman smoking a pipe. The fact is that many centuries ago it was burned at this place on charges of witchcraft. Now she waits for belated travelers and invites them to tell fortunes by their hand.
Near the old mill you can meet the ghost of a miller, completely black. They say that it can only be seen before a thunderstorm. Some say that he is black because he burned in a fire, others object that this blackness is external, from the blackness of his rotten soul, mired in sins.
Near the mighty oak tree, located in an ancient local park, people often see a time-mirage: the execution of a robber, which took place on this site two centuries ago.
At Greystones Manor, which stands in the central part of the village, you can see the ghost of a monk walking arm in arm with the lady from Rosecourt. They say that his soul was doomed to eternal wanderings because during his lifetime he broke his vow of chastity and entered into a relationship with this woman.
And this woman from the Rosecourt estate also became a ghost, as she committed suicide because of this secret relationship by drinking poison. In this house there is also the mystical activity of a ghostly woman.
On the outskirts of the village there used to be a forest, where at one time a colonel of an English military unit hanged himself, who was accused of large-scale embezzlement. Now there is a pasture along which moonlit nights they see the walking silhouette of a man in uniform with a rope around his neck; according to local residents, this is the hanged colonel.
Another hanged man is found on one of the streets of Pluckley, near a spreading laurel tree - this is a former school teacher who hanged himself because of unrequited love, immediately after the end of the First World War. He is still seen at night swinging in a noose.
The village of Pluckley is haunted by the ghosts of two sisters from the aristocratic Denning family: if the "Woman in White" is found on central square, then the “Woman in Red” walks near the Church of Saint-Nicolas. What is most interesting is that it is here in the family crypt, on the lower level, that her remains rest. They say that her relatives, in order to stop her restless other life, buried her body in seven coffins, according to the “matryoshka” principle, but this did nothing to calm her restless soul.
For local railway station There is a clay quarry where the ghost of a worker who died many centuries ago in a sudden collapse of the ground is often seen.
A rabid dog shot by police is another phantom, but this ghost can rarely be seen; more often, local residents and tourists hear a frightening howl that echoes throughout the area at night.
It doesn’t matter how you feel about mysticism: whether you believe in otherworldly forces or believe that ghosts live only in the imagination of some faint-hearted people, you have an excellent opportunity to check it yourself. Tourists from different countries, to the mystical village of Plakli, thousands go to see something mysterious at least with one eye, and according to their stories, many actually succeed.
Sergei lived in the village. It was an ordinary village, nothing stood out, like many villages in the vast expanses of our country. There was nothing strange and incomprehensible, but nothing so attractive that happens in villages, was observed in this one. There was no abandoned cemetery nearby, practically no one drowned in the river next to the village, and no people disappeared in the forest, except perhaps due to their own stupidity. And the landowner Vetlinsky, to whom this village belonged during the times of serfdom, did not particularly mock the peasants. In general, the average village turned out to be, well, somewhat boring. Even the residents of this village were quiet and friendly.
All this calmness always bothered Seryoga. From the age of 14, he was interested in horror films and mystical stories. That is why, after graduating from the institute, Seryoga moved to live in the village, closer to all this mysticism. After all, everyone knows that the most inexplicable things happen in villages, and the farther from the city they are, the better. The result did not live up to expectations, but nothing could be changed. Seryoga sold his house in the city, left to him by his late parents, to buy a rural house. The house was solid, two-story, with a carved ridge on the roof. But in such a beautiful and quiet place, Seryoga slowly but surely dried up. His life took on a routine pattern. Work during the day, garden in the evening, sleep at night. And so every day. But in his dreams Seryoga still fought with sorcerers and ghouls and invariably emerged victorious, helped local residents deal with spirits and much more. Seryoga lived in dreams. But over time, Seryoga began to notice that there was something wrong in this village. His neighbors, friendly and smiling during the day, became somehow gloomy, nervous, and sometimes even aggressive as evening approached. At first, Seryoga didn’t pay attention to it. I was too busy.
This happened late in the evening, when the stars were already visible in the sky, but it was still quite possible to see without the help of a flashlight. Seryoga was returning from the village store as usual; he often went there to buy groceries, but mostly they were cigarettes. When he passed by the house of Baba Lyuba, a seventy-eight-year-old woman whom the whole village knew, he saw strange picture. The grandmother, with her hair down, wearing one long shirt that reached to her heels, was circling around the garden, holding a huge jug in her hands, from which she sometimes splashed some seemingly absolutely black liquid. Seryoga stopped and began to watch what would happen next. Indeed, from the outside it looked funny, and something else told Seryoga that this woman was running around the garden for a reason. Carried away by her dance, the grandmother did not pay attention to what was happening around her. And when she performed the next step of this strange dance, the moon, which had already appeared in the sky, began to shine in her face. Out of fright, Seryoga dropped his cigarette. The grandmother’s eyes burned with an even, pale yellow fire. What brought him out of his stupor was that the grandmother also noticed that she was being watched, and rather abruptly ran from her area to Seryoga. He rushed home as fast as he could, afraid to turn around, the image of this old woman standing before his eyes.
Having run into the house and closing the door behind him not only with the bottom lock, but also with the latch, he immediately slid to the floor, however, he immediately crawled away from the door. One thought was spinning in my head. Witch. This grandma is a witch. And what he saw was some kind of ritual. This means that this old woman will not let him live now. Having recovered from the first shock, Seryoga stood up and fearfully looking at the door and windows, moved to the sofa. Two feelings fought in him, fear and euphoria. It was not for nothing that he lost five years of his life in this village. All his wildest dreams overwhelmed him. He will fight the evil spirits, just as he wanted. Later, already sitting in the kitchen and drinking tea, Seryoga imagined how he would do it. He was at home, safe, which meant what this old woman would do to him, at least while he was at home. Suddenly there was a light knock on the door, and all of Seryogin’s confidence disappeared somewhere. Approaching the door and bravely, with all his might, he asked: “Who is there?” He heard nothing in response. They just knocked on the window. Running sharply up to him and pulling back the curtain, he again found no one behind him. And the knocking was already heard in several places in his house. Seryoga was overwhelmed by a wave of wild fear; he was not ready for this. He always believed that home was the safest place. Even such a slight interference in the peace of the house shook his faith in his own integrity. And suddenly he heard a voice that softly, but in an orderly tone, forced him to open the door. This old woman was standing outside the door. But two long tusks, like those of a boar, protruded from her mouth, and her face was pale and pale. Against his will, but at the direction of the voice that sounded in his head, he took a few steps towards her, already imagining how this old woman would kill him. But the old woman, contrary to all expectations, simply took him by the hand and led him along the night street, and behind them the lights went out one after another.
Seryoga was found dead at home the next morning. He sat at the table in front of a bottle of vodka and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. Everyone who saw him noted that he was incredibly calm. His eyes were closed, and there was not a single wrinkle on his face. An easy death. When everyone was standing on the street in front of his house and discussing his death, someone ironically remembered that Seryoga dreamed of encountering something otherworldly. Now they will never meet again. To which Baba Lyuba said: “Or maybe I met him, but I couldn’t control it, it’s not good to play with evil spirits.” Seryoga was buried in the cemetery, and since he had no relatives in the village, the same woman Lyuba looked after the grave.
News edited Claire Fontaine - 16-07-2013, 12:44
It was in the late 80s, Anya’s mother worked in some kind of architectural bureau (I won’t lie what it was called correctly, but it doesn’t matter), in general they were engaged in the restoration of architectural monuments. Ani's older sister Masha was a professional restoration artist who worked mostly in temples and monasteries. Mother and daughters traveled all over the country, to the most diverse corners of our vast Motherland. Either the Church in the Vladimir region is being restored, or the cathedral in Suzdal. Anyuta, still very little, is always under the supervision of her mother and older sister, always safe.
I will say that although this family was engaged the noblest cause, but I wasn’t particularly religious at that time. .
And then one day they were brought to a place forgotten by God, somewhere in the Smolensk region, already on the border with Belarus. An old, barely alive village, one central street, a dozen houses, a forest, a river and a huge moat (it seems like the Dnieper used to flow there, but it dried up).
There was also a small church from the beginning of the 17th century, ancient icons darkened by time, wax candles emitting an indescribable aroma... Masha and her mother spent whole days in the church working, little Anya, already a fairly independent girl, walked freely around the village, surrounded by grazing goats and yard dogs.
They settled the newcomers on the outskirts, in the chairman’s house, and somehow strangely, almost as a joke, warned them: “After sunset, don’t wander around the village and don’t let the child go alone!”
The family is urban and does not believe in superstitions, but after the first day of work, returning home, the women noticed that with the advent of twilight the village seemed to have died out. The shutters are tightly closed, there are bolts on the gates, not a single living soul, only the yard dogs whining in their kennels.
The locals were not talkative and did not talk much about the reasons for the curfew. Life, they say, is rural, we go to bed early and get up early. But the chairman’s wife, a very sweet and compassionate woman, took such a liking to Anyuta that without further ado, when the sun set, she locked the restless child at home. Mom and Masha often met a girl who began to cry and complained that she was not allowed to go out and was locked at home.
“It’s all for her good, there’s no point for a kid like that wandering around the village in the dark!” — the chairwoman justified herself. But I repeat, the restless Anka screamed and demanded freedom, as a result of which her mother gave up and forbade locking her at home - “Let her walk side by side until we return.”
Restoration work was in full swing, and then one day the women returned home quite late. In the village there is silence, darkness, even if you gouge out your eyes, and Anya is not visible on the rubble. She wasn’t even at home, they rushed to look for her, scoured the whole village up and down, to no avail. They pushed the chairman aside, fetched lanterns and went home.
They opened it reluctantly, shrugged their shoulders and somehow looked away with resignation. “It’s your own fault, you were told not to let the child wander around in the dark” “What’s the matter?! - the mother begged - what is happening, what are you afraid of?! “Look in the ravine”—that’s all the frightened local women managed to learn.
We ran to the ravine, about 10 people gathered, men with pitchforks, as expected, and lanterns. But at the edge of the ravine everyone stopped. “More on, your child, it’s your business.” There is no need to explain the state of shock of Anyuta’s mother, the adult village men refused to go down into the ravine, what is there at the bottom, and what about the child if he is there.
Anyuta's mother together with eldest daughter They rushed down through the windfall, almost by touch, along the slope in complete darkness. They shouted and shone thin beams of flashlights, whose light was hopelessly swallowed up by absolute darkness. Already halfway there, a muffled hiss was heard from below, as if a dozen cats reared up at once and produced this terrible cacophony.
Masha was the first to reach the bottom, she stood rooted to the spot and screamed in horror. The picture that opened up paralyzed her, her voice broke and she lost consciousness. The girls' mother rushed forward and finally saw her missing daughter. The moonlight was slightly reflected from a small stream at the bottom of the ravine, but this light was enough to illuminate two figures of approximately the same height.
Anya walked quietly and slowly, led by the hand by a short, hunched creature with long arms and crooked legs. The creature looked around warily and hissed. The eyes glowed like those of a cat, and the long fingers on his hands ended in sharp claws. IN moonlight the creature's skin had a bluish tint with small dark veins and spots all over its body. The girl moved without showing visible resistance, her eyes were closed.
With a scream, the mother rushed to the child and grabbed Anyuta’s hand and pulled her towards herself. The creature bared its teeth, revealing sharp short teeth, hissed with renewed vigor, but did not let go of the girl. A struggle ensued, the mother pulled the child towards herself, and the creature, whose strength was clearly inferior to the furious pressure of the enraged mother, backed away, slid on the clay bottom and tenaciously held the unfortunate child.
With sparkling eyes and clattering jaws, the creature began to growl and grabbed Anyuta with two paws. Finally, the mother saw exactly where the creature was dragging its prey. On the opposite side dried up river in the thicket one could see old brickwork, with a dark hole in it. From last bit of strength the mother pulled her daughter towards her and the creature finally unclipped. As soon as the girl was in her mother's arms, she let out a long groan and sank to the ground.
Then Masha, who had come to her senses, arrived in time, she and her mother grabbed the child and rushed up and away from the ravine. The creature below continued to hiss and whine, it either ran closer, then timidly retreated. The mother loudly called for help and apparently these screams and the proximity of people scared off the creature, in the end, spinning a little more at the bottom, it disappeared into the thickets near the brickwork.
At the top, the women and the exhausted child were received by locals, in complete silence they escorted the mother and daughters to the chairman’s house and, as if nothing had happened, they dispersed to their homes. In the illuminated room, Anyuta finally came to her senses; she was quietly sobbing and complaining about bad dream, the girl’s hand, the same one that the creature was holding onto, was covered in blood, the deep cuts were inflamed and hurt terribly. Anya spent the whole night delirious, the wounds were washed and bandaged, and only at dawn did she fall asleep.
The chairman's wife, secretly from her husband, said that before, animals often disappeared from the village at night, their gnawed corpses were found at the bottom of the ravine. And when the young son of a local drunk disappeared, everyone came to an agreement and, as the sun set, began to lock the doors and windows of the houses until dawn. The boy was never found, for the most part they did not look for him, the villagers flatly refused to go down into the ravine, and the grief-stricken father sat on the edge all night, not daring to go alone.
They say that if you hear a hissing in the courtyard of a house at night, you can see through the shutters a small, clumsy creature staggering around the village in ethereal attempts to find food. It walks around the courtyards all night, looks into doghouses and, driven by the howling and barking of frightened animals, disappears into the ravine in the morning.
P.S.
Anya saw the scars on her hand with her own eyes.
I don’t remember the name of the area, I heard this story when I was still in school.
I changed the girls' names.
Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, I won’t lie. I heard this story as a child from one of my mother’s friends. The time was socialist then, they were building communism and, God forbid, they did not betray any meaning to any mysticism. And she had the ability to be.
My mother, as a young girl, got married and left her village for a wealthy regional center. Far from home, but this did not frighten my mother: her husband was nearby, her favorite job, an apartment. And the expectation of the first child, that is, me. My mother did not break contact with her village, and when I grew up, and then my sister, we often visited the distant taiga village, which I simply adored! In those days, the village did not look as miserable and abandoned as it does now! Oh, in those days the village was a kind of romance, even poetry, and people did not flee from it in such numbers as now. So actually about history.
My mother’s parents, my grandfather and my grandmother lived in the village, and we went to them every summer when my sister and I grew up.
And on one of these visits, to my mother, she once “came to visit” best friend. The friend’s name was Alena, at one time she got married successfully, broke all ties with former acquaintances and friends, and drove off to the city with her husband. And then suddenly he shows up in the village, and goes straight to my mother. And how did you know we were here?
I can see her now, beautiful, richly dressed and roaring like tears in three streams.
“Anna,” that’s my mother’s name, “the time has come to pay for our stupidity!” - and keeps crying.
I saw my mother’s face darken. And I was about 12 years old then, and my sister was very little, she was only three. Mom looks at me and says:
- Nadya, leave the room, I need to talk to Aunt Alena.
I went out, and I stood on the other side of the door and listened to Alena tell her mother.
- Do you remember our fortune-telling, when you were not yet married? Do you remember how the three of us used to tell fortunes on a saucer: you, me and Irka Solovyova!
My mother is silent, and Aunt Alena is already losing her voice.
- Do you remember what the saucer told us then? You have the crown of celibacy, I have to be childless, and Irka, on the contrary, has three husbands, three children, we still laughed then, what a happy one! She should have taken her own happiness for the two of us!
I hear my mother say in a muffled voice: “I remember everything!”
And Aunt Alena answers, do you remember how you and I decided to tell our fate on a saucer, without Irka? Perform the black rite... Irina’s fate was then scattered between two, so we wanted our own happiness! Do you remember? Do you remember how Irka suddenly, out of the blue, after we told our fortunes for the second time, began to drink too much. And Matvey abandoned her. And after all, she had a fiancé, and what a... the first guy in the village... And after that, Irkin’s fate went downhill... She gave birth to three children, but from different men, and her children are now all different They now live in shelters.
Mom, I hear, is silent. And Aunt Alena continues: “And you and I Anna got married, you have children, I have children, and we have husbands, what a sin to complain! And recently I was walking through the city, and a gypsy met me and said: “Not to my own.” You live in happiness, they will soon take it away from you." And I have only one happiness - my daughter!
The gypsy seemed to hear my thoughts: “Don’t let your daughter go near the horses,” she says.
What can you do, my Verka only dreams of them, she even signed up for the section and takes prizes. Anna, I’m very afraid for her, what should I do?
“It’s obvious you can’t do anything, Alen,” I hear my mother’s voice, “truth, they took your sin, they wanted someone else’s happiness, it couldn’t be that way.” Where is Ira now?
“Irka lives somewhere in a hospital for the insane,” Aunt Alena answers, “Who cares what’s wrong with her, I once went to see her, I wanted to repent, and she rushed at me... her eyes are black, mad, she’s thin herself.” , the orderlies barely pulled her away from me. How can I continue to live on my own, I call my Verka a hundred times a day, I hired her a bodyguard... but I’m still afraid for her, my husband swears, he says she’s completely gone... what can a horse do... I’m afraid Anna...
Then Aunt Alena fell silent, and my mother, I looked through the crack, was completely asleep, and was obviously thinking about something, and then she spoke quietly, and with such difficulty, as if her throat was completely dry.
- I, Alyon, also don’t live by my own happiness... I feel it... and everything seems fine, I married Matvey, and he loves my girls, and me, and brings money into the house, and doesn’t drink, but I feel - He’s not mine, it’s hard for me too...
And then the grandfather bursts into the room, he apparently heard everything from the other side of the room, the room is a walk-through... Yes, when he started shouting at my mother, I couldn’t even make out the words in this stream...
He shouted that everything needed to be corrected... you did it yourself and there is no forgiveness for you, what you thought was to steal someone else's happiness...
Then there was one night, I remember, my mother, Aunt Alena and grandfather went to our swamps, at the very full moon... What was there, I don’t know... my grandmother did not sleep all night and whispered, looking at the Moon... help , help... Mom and grandfather only returned in the morning... Mom was pale and somehow didn’t look like herself...
But Aunt Alena returned much earlier, as I remember now, she burst into my grandfather’s house, looked at us so evilly and how let’s yell at grandma that, supposedly, it’s yours old grandfather he's completely out of his mind, he's demanding this, saying she won't give up her daughter to anyone... basically, she slammed the door... and I don't know what her name was...
Two years after that night, mom and dad divorced... and so she raised us all her life, although she was so beautiful that it took your breath away when you looked at her, there were men, of course, but not one of them asked her to marry all my life... Mom sometimes said that with sadness, she more than repaid her debt.
I grew up, got married, my sister is also doing well, although my dad didn’t want to know us after the divorce and still doesn’t know us, but my sister and I grew up to be good daughters and wives and mothers, I hope...
Our dad lives with Ira, with that same mother’s friend, he took her from a mental hospital, she somehow quickly began to recover, they took all the children and gave birth to two more of their own, they live in perfect harmony, despite their age, it’s clearly destiny ...
Mom no longer cries, but sometimes at night, looking at the Moon, she asks someone for invisible forgiveness... and thanks us for the fact that we are alive. I don't know who she's talking to.
I only know that after that very night Aunt Alena came to her home, took her daughter and went on a trip abroad, she categorically forbade her daughter to go near horses... Vera listened to her, but six months after they left abroad, Vera began an affair with an Italian. The Italian was young, handsome and very rich. Alena, of course, approved of these meetings, but there was one “but”: the Italian turned out to be a breeder of thoroughbred horses. The Italian assured Alena about her doubts that he would not let Vera close to the horses. They had a wedding, and then one day, when the Italian was away on business, Vera persuaded her mother to go horseback riding. The horses walked quietly, but suddenly the horse on which Vera was sitting turned into the barn where the hay was... a few seconds later Alena heard some wheezing from this barn, and rushed there on her horse. Her daughter Vera was hanging on a hook that was located above the floor. The horse stood a little further away. Apparently, when the horse passed under the hook, it caught on Vera’s shirt. The shirt Vera was wearing crushed the girl’s throat, and she suffocated... Alena screamed for a long time, then she was sent to an insane asylum.
When my mother found out about this... she didn’t cry, she said: “So they paid for their stolen happiness”...
And only when my mother died did I understand what she meant. Taking her hospital card, I saw that my mother was pregnant at the moment when she and her grandfather went to the swamps. I don’t know what happened there, but I know that after the swamps my mother became different... she didn’t give birth to anyone... she put on the crown of celibacy and dutifully wore it all her life!
This mystical story happened to my father, Yakov Semenovich, a teacher in the geology department at one of the capital’s universities. At the end of the “dashing 90s,” when science was forgotten and geological expeditions could only be dreamed of, one of the “new Russian” businessmen approached their institute with an offer to finance an expedition to remote villages of the country. The purpose of the hike is to search for healing springs mineral water. The entrepreneur wanted to set up a new production, and in the outback he hoped to find raw materials and cheap labor. One of the places on the route was native village my father, that’s why he volunteered to go on a hike with two students (Sergei and Vadim), and the opportunity to see their native places came with a nice cash bonus, several times higher than the teacher’s salary.
And so, at the very end of the expedition, the group approached an abandoned village, where from the settlement of five thousand households there was only one toothless old woman living on pasture. She happily met the researchers, missing communication with living people. When asked about healing springs, the old woman said that in the neighboring abandoned village there was a well, the water in which was considered healing thanks to great content silver in it. But the old woman vehemently discouraged anyone from going there. The father and the students just laughed: that’s how grandma misses people, she doesn’t even want to let go; and set off.
The village greeted them with empty window sockets and rickety fences, and on the outskirts there was a well. The water collected from the well was taken for analysis, and it was found that there was an excess of silver in it, so wash the wounds right away. Since it was already beginning to get dark, it was decided to pitch a tent here on the outskirts and spend the night near the well, and in the morning set off on the way back to civilization. The young people could not sleep for a long time, discussing what healing properties this water might have.
And when, closer to midnight, sleep began to overwhelm them, they heard rustling sounds and footsteps around the tent. The guys did not dare to look out of the tent for a long time, wondering who it could be: a feral dog, a wolf or a fox. But when Sergei, being the bravest one, looked out, he was simply dumbfounded. A young girl was walking around the tent. Her face and skin were deathly pale, and her figure was translucent. The girl turned around, and in an instant her face was in front of the guy’s face, and her hand grabbed his jacket sleeve. My father and Vadim, both equally terrified by what they saw, were able to drag him back.
No one slept until the morning, everyone silently prayed and waited for the footsteps near the tent to subside. As soon as dawn broke, the group collected their things and almost ran back, stopping only in the neighboring village to talk to the old woman about what they had seen at night. After listening to them, the grandmother said that once upon a time there was a beautiful young couple, Vasily and Nastya, in a neighboring village, who were already preparing for their wedding. But the day before the ceremony, tractor driver Vasily drowned in the river along with the tractor. Nastya could not survive such grief. For three days she walked around the village like crazy in her wedding dress, and then disappeared. They looked for her for a long time, but did not find her.
After some time, people began to see a white figure similar to Nastya near the well. What just happened to her remains a mystery neighboring village, which no one recognized. - Or maybe you guys just miss your brides, that you see girls at night? - Granny asked, then frowned and tried in vain to wipe off white spot similar to a handprint on Sergei's jacket.