521
The terrible history of Konigsberg
It was getting dark.
Home vosmedisyatyh. Kaliningrad. Quiet chilly autumn evening Königsberg. Indus vzopreli winter Outside the sky was heavy with clouds, occasionally spouting portions small nasty rain.
At that time I lived in a house built in German, Vesma strange architecture. Half of the house was fully preserved in the form of a pre-war, with huge rooms, stucco, monograms and a spiral staircase to the three floors to the attic. The second half was rebuilt after being hit by bombs and already had a modern look. Long corridors, small komnotushki, bathrooms, more like wells. It was in one of these apartments on the ground floor, overlooking a large garden, a beautiful German I lived. Beautiful prikrasivy prinemetsky pribolshoy
That evening, I was sitting at home came to me with a couple of bottles of each zhigulevskogo, sit and talk about life. We have just finished school and came back in happy ignorance of future disasters and reconstruction. That evening, on television showed the film "The Wild Hunt of King Stach". From the outset, we somehow drew the plot. The modest knock on the kitchen window distracted from the film. I must say that it is the window looked out on a neighbor's porch, just with that "the German side." On the porch was a neighbor. We were on good terms, onbyl 5 years older than me, often I turn to me for help. Anything solder in his equipment, borrow salt, and so on. D. At this time he was holding a healthy "bobinnik" Jupiter. The price issue has arranged and I silently asked him perelest window. The evening continued for calm throwing phrases by the smell of beer and burning rosin and heated soldering iron.
The plot of the film has once again swept the three of us. And coupled with the nasty weather and the twilight of the room, lit only by TV and my desk lamp, bent over the tape gutted, we occasionally feel the breath of real fear. At the end of the first film with subtitles, we shared their feelings. And then the neighbor decided to tell us the story of his life. Further, in the first person: [next]
That's strange, like a movie, know perfectly well that this srezhesirovanno game. But still sneaks. But you imagine that a man feels when those things happen to him really. I do not really want to remember it all, but since I started - tell:
Before the war, it is rumored that the house belonged to the priest Konigsberg. Hence, there is even an underground passage in the direction of the city church. We even climbed to the guys. But after 50 meters turn it was filled with water. Then it was all bricked up. What would the children were not injured. Few there be, ammunition or something. The war still was. So. I was then 15 years old My father worked in a taxi, almost around the clock. The mother, too, "shift." Often one house remained. We then even this extension that was built in front of your window. They made my room. And the porch before the end of the house was. My parents stayed in the old high German hall. Places where he saw how much, 40 meters, half cabinets separated for bedroom closets made. And lived.
But suddenly, one day, as they say, our top of the spiral staircase kuborem flies grandfather monsardy. It flies to us in the kitchen. Type such that it is better not to see. The father was at home then. Asks:
What happened?
-Ksenz Come.
- Drink less necessary.
And I must say that my grandfather - a shoemaker, drank, but not so much that-be imagined devils. Well received by Natalie Trundy grandmother sometimes, like all normal grandparents. In general, the grandfather said:
I sit in the kitchen. I read the "truth". Suddenly, the room comes with a man in a cassock, pale, without a beard. He looks at me and says:
- You are my boots otremontiruesh?
I've gone crazy, tongue otsoh. Staring at him. He turns and leaves the room. I think: "Nichrome currently uchudila wife. Where did she hide it? "I flew him and his gone. None. Well here I feel bad and it was.
They sat with his father, the noise of another neighbor came. Went, of course, the Germans searched. Not found. Grandfather flatly refused to go home alone. So we grandmother in the kitchen and waited. It asked the grandfather grandmother did not speak - zaklyuet.
- My "glitches." With them, and I shall live. A disgrace to the grandmother did not want to.
All anything, but the next day my grandfather died. In the evening, only to hear the howling grandmother returned from work. Father lying on the couch. With open eyes and face full of horror.
Buried, of course, the entire house, quietly whispering to each other. Grandmother, of course, no one said anything. About a week later, after the funeral, with the same bang in the middle of the day on top of the grandmother flew. It has met all the neighbors. Grandma said that as the same sitting in the kitchen and the room went pale man in a black cassock.
-Your Husband had my boots repaired. - I turned around and left the room.
She followed him. He is not. Here everyone already was not posebe. I had to tell the story of his grandmother's grandfather. A couple of nights slept with her neighbor. But as soon as she (grandmother) was left alone, history repeated itself as a grandfather. We found her lying on the couch with her eyes open with horror frozen on his face.
To. The old men were lonely, and the apartment, of course, the state, just a month to have settled the same lonely, war veteran, one-legged zapoloshnuyu aunt. There are already people are not shy. He told her everything as it is. And about the Germans and about the strange death. Intimidate old komunistku failed, well taking on his chest, she demanded to give her this German "to be shot." All that will have to wait. The wait did not last long. Found it soon, do not believe in the same form in the same place.
Were Commission. Admitted non-residential attic. We decided to make room for drying clothes.
I must say that it's not a loft over. Throughout the house were heard creaking, footsteps. Lying on the couch and had happened clearly hear both directly behind the wall, as if she was not a meter thick, and just a single brick, someone coming up the stairs. Hair stand on end with horror. Over time, these squeaks and sounds become permanent. And always the feeling that at you someone is watching or standing behind. Suck it up and live in peace was impossible. It was scary.
So am I was 15 years old. Evening. Home alone. Led girlfriend. Sitting in his room. Naturally, I frighten her horror stories about Ksenzov, slowly drawing her closer to him. Naturally, slowly I undress myself getting ready. The best way to win the girlfriend is a combination of affection and fear.
And then in the parents' room the light turns on. Well it is already heated, but I have in this already, forgive me, I live for six months. I get up and bent, trying to keep in front of her bravado, I went up to the door and open afraid. I stand in front of it (the door), naked, like a fool. A friend came back and she pushed open the door. The room was burning parent lamp and switch dangling rope with a large amplitude. That's all I remember. She woke up naked in the garden. Girls were no longer close. Only corpses With open eyes Good night. He waited for his father. And then already decided to do something. Ponakupili icons, candles. Invited priest consecrated. All to no purpose. He walks and walks. Finally we found some in his grandmother witch. They brought her as the beginning of the corners of the cast. Five minutes ago sane person actually turned into a sheer witch. "Sausages" with her for half an hour. Then he walked away. He says the case will have a hard suck - Ksenzov strong. It just will not go away. A lot of work to do. Attach conditions - I will live with you. The apartments doors are not buried. I was not responding. At night, do not be afraid. I will walk. Plus the conditions of food and alcohol. What to do? I had to agree. And Ksenzov not be bored
And then it began ... In the battle rushed without artillery preparation. Immediately after glass of vodka. I chase poor Ksenzov from corner to corner. On all three floors. Do not believe it! Meta for his steps, we clearly heard. I yelled at him. Sometimes I sit somewhere in the corner for a long time about something whispered to him. It was not like a dialogue. It was a dialogue. Because it it was connected. It is something she argued. She referred to Wikipedia. It is to prove something to him. Imagine sleeping peacefully at night, you suddenly on someone goes and starts yelling right into the wall. The "do not have to react." In this mode, we spent five days. All this time she almost did not eat and hardly slept. The rare moments of silence when it subsided, buried in some sort of angle, abruptly cut off long inarticulate triads magical charms. You shall not pass! Finally the moment arrived. She sat on a chair in the midst of the kitchen, her face was terribly tired, haggard, but at the same time light and spirituality. She looked at us and said quietly tyakayte lads "He's gone." Here on this good note ...
He really went to the neighbors, if there is something in the house creaked so solely because of drafts. and aching joints nightmares stopped. Life is normal. The girl has not returned. Until now it runs in a helmet and laughs pity. Pretty it was. Here, at the Sveta married.
He took a deep breath, we were silent for a moment, impressed by the story. I must say that our home has been restored to half of the central heating. The German part of the same - with kotelkovym. E. Coal, dirt and troublesome. A neighbor and says:
-How Well do you good. Heat. Let's spend out of your bath tube-well, at least in my room one, the materials and the work I take upon myself. - And as soon as he says it, the bathroom door opens with cotton. My friends have changed in the face. Classmates slips off the edge of the sofa, falls to the floor, bulging eyes looking into the blackness of the bathroom, grabs the leg of the stool and not the voice yells: "Shut it! Close! ". A neighbor just stares back, --and nothing govorit-- face in an instant fat dead pale. He was paralyzed. I Gauvreau: "it is not pissing ventilation we have such a powerful. It (the door) is always open. "But the bricks still had to clean himself, but somehow too uncomfortable. Classmates came to the first. But the neighbor had not evacuated had to pump long. That's when I took that all he said - the real truth.
© 2011
SvezhiyVeter The story is not mine, I just posted announced
Release prepared in conjunction with the user 497 368 (all that zachernuto).
Source:
Home vosmedisyatyh. Kaliningrad. Quiet chilly autumn evening Königsberg. Indus vzopreli winter Outside the sky was heavy with clouds, occasionally spouting portions small nasty rain.
At that time I lived in a house built in German, Vesma strange architecture. Half of the house was fully preserved in the form of a pre-war, with huge rooms, stucco, monograms and a spiral staircase to the three floors to the attic. The second half was rebuilt after being hit by bombs and already had a modern look. Long corridors, small komnotushki, bathrooms, more like wells. It was in one of these apartments on the ground floor, overlooking a large garden, a beautiful German I lived. Beautiful prikrasivy prinemetsky pribolshoy
That evening, I was sitting at home came to me with a couple of bottles of each zhigulevskogo, sit and talk about life. We have just finished school and came back in happy ignorance of future disasters and reconstruction. That evening, on television showed the film "The Wild Hunt of King Stach". From the outset, we somehow drew the plot. The modest knock on the kitchen window distracted from the film. I must say that it is the window looked out on a neighbor's porch, just with that "the German side." On the porch was a neighbor. We were on good terms, onbyl 5 years older than me, often I turn to me for help. Anything solder in his equipment, borrow salt, and so on. D. At this time he was holding a healthy "bobinnik" Jupiter. The price issue has arranged and I silently asked him perelest window. The evening continued for calm throwing phrases by the smell of beer and burning rosin and heated soldering iron.
The plot of the film has once again swept the three of us. And coupled with the nasty weather and the twilight of the room, lit only by TV and my desk lamp, bent over the tape gutted, we occasionally feel the breath of real fear. At the end of the first film with subtitles, we shared their feelings. And then the neighbor decided to tell us the story of his life. Further, in the first person: [next]
That's strange, like a movie, know perfectly well that this srezhesirovanno game. But still sneaks. But you imagine that a man feels when those things happen to him really. I do not really want to remember it all, but since I started - tell:
Before the war, it is rumored that the house belonged to the priest Konigsberg. Hence, there is even an underground passage in the direction of the city church. We even climbed to the guys. But after 50 meters turn it was filled with water. Then it was all bricked up. What would the children were not injured. Few there be, ammunition or something. The war still was. So. I was then 15 years old My father worked in a taxi, almost around the clock. The mother, too, "shift." Often one house remained. We then even this extension that was built in front of your window. They made my room. And the porch before the end of the house was. My parents stayed in the old high German hall. Places where he saw how much, 40 meters, half cabinets separated for bedroom closets made. And lived.
But suddenly, one day, as they say, our top of the spiral staircase kuborem flies grandfather monsardy. It flies to us in the kitchen. Type such that it is better not to see. The father was at home then. Asks:
What happened?
-Ksenz Come.
- Drink less necessary.
And I must say that my grandfather - a shoemaker, drank, but not so much that-be imagined devils. Well received by Natalie Trundy grandmother sometimes, like all normal grandparents. In general, the grandfather said:
I sit in the kitchen. I read the "truth". Suddenly, the room comes with a man in a cassock, pale, without a beard. He looks at me and says:
- You are my boots otremontiruesh?
I've gone crazy, tongue otsoh. Staring at him. He turns and leaves the room. I think: "Nichrome currently uchudila wife. Where did she hide it? "I flew him and his gone. None. Well here I feel bad and it was.
They sat with his father, the noise of another neighbor came. Went, of course, the Germans searched. Not found. Grandfather flatly refused to go home alone. So we grandmother in the kitchen and waited. It asked the grandfather grandmother did not speak - zaklyuet.
- My "glitches." With them, and I shall live. A disgrace to the grandmother did not want to.
All anything, but the next day my grandfather died. In the evening, only to hear the howling grandmother returned from work. Father lying on the couch. With open eyes and face full of horror.
Buried, of course, the entire house, quietly whispering to each other. Grandmother, of course, no one said anything. About a week later, after the funeral, with the same bang in the middle of the day on top of the grandmother flew. It has met all the neighbors. Grandma said that as the same sitting in the kitchen and the room went pale man in a black cassock.
-Your Husband had my boots repaired. - I turned around and left the room.
She followed him. He is not. Here everyone already was not posebe. I had to tell the story of his grandmother's grandfather. A couple of nights slept with her neighbor. But as soon as she (grandmother) was left alone, history repeated itself as a grandfather. We found her lying on the couch with her eyes open with horror frozen on his face.
To. The old men were lonely, and the apartment, of course, the state, just a month to have settled the same lonely, war veteran, one-legged zapoloshnuyu aunt. There are already people are not shy. He told her everything as it is. And about the Germans and about the strange death. Intimidate old komunistku failed, well taking on his chest, she demanded to give her this German "to be shot." All that will have to wait. The wait did not last long. Found it soon, do not believe in the same form in the same place.
Were Commission. Admitted non-residential attic. We decided to make room for drying clothes.
I must say that it's not a loft over. Throughout the house were heard creaking, footsteps. Lying on the couch and had happened clearly hear both directly behind the wall, as if she was not a meter thick, and just a single brick, someone coming up the stairs. Hair stand on end with horror. Over time, these squeaks and sounds become permanent. And always the feeling that at you someone is watching or standing behind. Suck it up and live in peace was impossible. It was scary.
So am I was 15 years old. Evening. Home alone. Led girlfriend. Sitting in his room. Naturally, I frighten her horror stories about Ksenzov, slowly drawing her closer to him. Naturally, slowly I undress myself getting ready. The best way to win the girlfriend is a combination of affection and fear.
And then in the parents' room the light turns on. Well it is already heated, but I have in this already, forgive me, I live for six months. I get up and bent, trying to keep in front of her bravado, I went up to the door and open afraid. I stand in front of it (the door), naked, like a fool. A friend came back and she pushed open the door. The room was burning parent lamp and switch dangling rope with a large amplitude. That's all I remember. She woke up naked in the garden. Girls were no longer close. Only corpses With open eyes Good night. He waited for his father. And then already decided to do something. Ponakupili icons, candles. Invited priest consecrated. All to no purpose. He walks and walks. Finally we found some in his grandmother witch. They brought her as the beginning of the corners of the cast. Five minutes ago sane person actually turned into a sheer witch. "Sausages" with her for half an hour. Then he walked away. He says the case will have a hard suck - Ksenzov strong. It just will not go away. A lot of work to do. Attach conditions - I will live with you. The apartments doors are not buried. I was not responding. At night, do not be afraid. I will walk. Plus the conditions of food and alcohol. What to do? I had to agree. And Ksenzov not be bored
And then it began ... In the battle rushed without artillery preparation. Immediately after glass of vodka. I chase poor Ksenzov from corner to corner. On all three floors. Do not believe it! Meta for his steps, we clearly heard. I yelled at him. Sometimes I sit somewhere in the corner for a long time about something whispered to him. It was not like a dialogue. It was a dialogue. Because it it was connected. It is something she argued. She referred to Wikipedia. It is to prove something to him. Imagine sleeping peacefully at night, you suddenly on someone goes and starts yelling right into the wall. The "do not have to react." In this mode, we spent five days. All this time she almost did not eat and hardly slept. The rare moments of silence when it subsided, buried in some sort of angle, abruptly cut off long inarticulate triads magical charms. You shall not pass! Finally the moment arrived. She sat on a chair in the midst of the kitchen, her face was terribly tired, haggard, but at the same time light and spirituality. She looked at us and said quietly tyakayte lads "He's gone." Here on this good note ...
He really went to the neighbors, if there is something in the house creaked so solely because of drafts. and aching joints nightmares stopped. Life is normal. The girl has not returned. Until now it runs in a helmet and laughs pity. Pretty it was. Here, at the Sveta married.
He took a deep breath, we were silent for a moment, impressed by the story. I must say that our home has been restored to half of the central heating. The German part of the same - with kotelkovym. E. Coal, dirt and troublesome. A neighbor and says:
-How Well do you good. Heat. Let's spend out of your bath tube-well, at least in my room one, the materials and the work I take upon myself. - And as soon as he says it, the bathroom door opens with cotton. My friends have changed in the face. Classmates slips off the edge of the sofa, falls to the floor, bulging eyes looking into the blackness of the bathroom, grabs the leg of the stool and not the voice yells: "Shut it! Close! ". A neighbor just stares back, --and nothing govorit-- face in an instant fat dead pale. He was paralyzed. I Gauvreau: "it is not pissing ventilation we have such a powerful. It (the door) is always open. "But the bricks still had to clean himself, but somehow too uncomfortable. Classmates came to the first. But the neighbor had not evacuated had to pump long. That's when I took that all he said - the real truth.
© 2011
SvezhiyVeter The story is not mine, I just posted announced
Release prepared in conjunction with the user 497 368 (all that zachernuto).
Source:
