Scary incidents from the lives of real people. “A terrible incident” - a true story about the mysterious and inexplicable in the Pamir mountains

Incredible facts

Military history knows many cases of cruelty, deceit and betrayal.

Some cases are striking in their scale, others in their belief in absolute impunity, one thing is obvious: for some reason, some people who find themselves in harsh military conditions for some reason decide that the law is not written to them, and they have the right to control the destinies of others, making people suffer .

Below are some of the most horrifying realities that occurred during wartime.

1. Nazi Baby Factories

The photo below shows the baptism ceremony small child, which was "derived" by Aryan selection.

During the ceremony, one of the SS men holds a dagger over the baby, and the new mother gives it to the Nazis oath of allegiance.

It is important to note that this baby was one of tens of thousands of babies who participated in the project "Lebensborn". However, not all children were given life in this children's factory; some were kidnapped and only raised there.

Factory of true Aryans

The Nazis believed that there were few Aryans with blond hair and blue eyes in the world, which is why it was decided, by the way, by the same people who were responsible for the Holocaust, to launch the Lebensborn project, which dealt with breeding purebred Aryans, who in the future were supposed to join the Nazi ranks.

It was planned to house the children in beautiful houses, which were appropriated after the mass extermination of Jews.

And it all started with the fact that after the occupation of Europe, mixing with the indigenous inhabitants was actively encouraged among the SS men. The main thing that the number of the Nordic race grew.

Pregnant unmarried girls, as part of the Lebensborn program, were placed in houses with all amenities, where they gave birth and raised their children. Thanks to such care, during the war years it was possible to raise from 16,000 to 20,000 Nazis.

But, as it later turned out, this amount was not enough, so other measures were taken. The Nazis began to forcibly take away from their mothers children who had the desired hair and eye color.

It is worth adding that many of the embezzled children were orphans. Of course, light skin color and the absence of parents are not an excuse for the activities of the Nazis, but, nevertheless, at that difficult time, children had something to eat and a roof over their heads.

Some parents gave up their children so as not to end up in the gas chamber. Those who best suited the given parameters were selected literally immediately, without unnecessary persuasion.

At the same time, no genetic examinations were carried out; children were selected based only on visual information. Those selected were included in the program, or they were sent to some German family. Those who did not fit ended their lives in concentration camps.

Poles say that because of this program, the country has lost about 200,000 children. But it is unlikely that we will ever be able to find out the exact figure, because many children have successfully settled into German families.

Cruelty during war

2. Hungarian Angels of Death

Do not think that only the Nazis committed atrocities during the war. Ordinary Hungarian women shared the pedestal of perverted military nightmares with them.

It turns out that you don’t have to serve in the army to commit crimes. These lovely guardians of the home front, having combined their efforts, sent almost three hundred people to the next world.

It all started during the First World War. It was then that many women living in the village of Nagiryov, whose husbands had gone to the front, began to become increasingly interested in the prisoners of war of the allied armies located nearby.

Women liked this kind of affair, and prisoners of war, apparently, too. But when their husbands began to return from the war, something abnormal began to happen. One by one the soldiers died. Because of this, the village received the name "murder district".

The killings began in 1911, when a midwife named Fuzekas appeared in the village. She taught women who were temporarily left without husbands get rid of the consequences of contacts with lovers.

After the soldiers began returning from the war, the midwife suggested that the wives boil sticky paper intended to kill flies to obtain arsenic, and then add it to food.

Arsenic

Thus, they were able to commit a huge number of murders, and the women remained unpunished due to the fact that the village official was the midwife's brother, and wrote “not killed” on all death certificates of the victims.

The method gained so much popularity that almost any, even the most insignificant problem, began to be solved with the help of soup with arsenic. When the neighboring settlements finally realized what was happening, fifty criminals managed to kill three hundred people, including unwanted husbands, lovers, parents, children, relatives and neighbors.

Hunting for people

3. Parts human body like a trophy

It is important to say that during the war, many countries conducted propaganda among their soldiers, within the framework of which it was implanted in their brains that the enemy was not a person.

American soldiers also distinguished themselves in this regard, whose psyches were very actively influenced. Among them the so-called "hunting licenses."

One of them sounded like this: The Japanese hunting season is open! There are no restrictions! Hunters get rewarded! Free ammo and equipment! Join the ranks of the American Marine Corps!

Therefore, it is not surprising that American soldiers during the Battle of Guadalcanal, killing the Japanese, They cut off their ears and kept them as souvenirs.

Moreover, necklaces were made from the teeth of those killed, their skulls were sent home as souvenirs, and their ears were often worn around the neck or on a belt.

In 1942, the problem became so widespread that the command was forced to issue a decree which prohibited the appropriation of enemy body parts as trophies. But the measures were late, because the soldiers had already fully mastered the technology of cleaning and cutting up skulls.

The soldiers loved to take pictures with them.

This "fun" is firmly rooted. Even Roosevelt was forced to abandon the writing knife, which was made from a Japanese leg bone. It seemed as if the whole country is going crazy.

The light at the end of the tunnel appeared after a furious reaction from Life newspaper readers, who were angered and disgusted by the published photographs (and there were countless of them). The Japanese reaction was the same.

The most cruel woman

4. Irma Grese – human (?) – hyena

What can happen in a concentration camp that can terrify even a person who has seen a lot?

Irma Grese was a Nazi overseer who experienced sexual arousal while people were being tortured.

In terms of external indicators, Irma was the ideal of an Aryan teenager, because she perfectly met the established standards of beauty, was physically strong and ideologically prepared.

Inside, it was a man - a time bomb.

This is Irma without her paraphernalia. However, she almost always walked around with a whip strewn with precious stones, with a pistol and several hungry dogs who were ready to carry out her every order.

This woman could shoot at any person at her whim, whipped her captives and kicked them. This made her very excited.

Irma loved her job very much. She received incredible physical pleasure from cutting the chests of female prisoners until they bled. The wounds became inflamed and, as a rule, surgery was required, which was performed without anesthesia.

For some reason, right now, as I was about to go to sleep, I remembered an incident from my childhood. Yes, so much so that the hair on, sorry, my ass stood on end. Maybe someone is mine short story will help you avoid major troubles.

It was in 1995, I lived then in a working-class village with a population of 10-15k people. I went to school, first or second grade, I don’t even remember now. The father was not there, and the mother was at work from morning to evening, like most parents of that time, trying to earn an extra penny. Hmm... I got carried away, let's get down to business. And it was like this:

I came home from school, my briefcase flew in one direction, my shift went in the other. And when I came home, I didn’t notice that near the entrance a gypsy kid about my age was rubbing himself. There were no doors in the entrances then, just a piece of plywood on rusty hinges, more for appearance, so that snow would not be swept into the entrance. Well, that means, before I had time to wash my hands and sit down at the table in order to throw in a couple of sandwiches with sausage, which my mother had carefully left in the refrigerator, I heard a cautious knock on the door.

Lightly "knock-knock". Well, I think it seemed like something... A minute later, a more confident knock, distinctly three times, “knock knock knock.”
And at that time they liked to knock on the door or call with a “password”, saying “if I press the bell three times, it means your people have arrived, open it.” I don’t know why all the parents chose the same “password” for their children, apparently it’s just a coincidence) Since I was not a particularly timid/reasonable child, I thought something like: “Well, mom must have returned from work early or a friend came over, Call me into the yard and kick the ball."

I go up to the door, but something clicks and I ask who is there. And the answer is cheerful child's voice: “Hi, it’s me, let’s open it already.” Well, I think the voice of a neighbor and classmate means he is. I open it and understand that this is not a classmate. A healthy guy takes the door with his hand and opens it even wider. Another one stands nearby and smiles with a mouth full of golden teeth. And at that moment the gypsy child quickly runs away down the stairs.
Even with my meager childish mind, I realized that something very bad could happen now. "Boy, is mommy at home?" asks the smiling, golden-toothed stranger, and at this time his friend has already stuck his head through the door frame and is rummaging around the house with his eyes. Well, I think they have arrived...
I don’t know what sometimes motivates people in extreme situations, sometimes you’re just amazed) I say: “Yes, right now, he’s already getting dressed, you’ve arrived early,” and I go straight to the big guy. He took a step back in surprise and let go of the door.
At that moment I slammed it and rushed out into the street (our door had a “self-closing” lock). Apparently, they didn’t expect such a reaction from me, because before they even had time to say anything, I flew out of my entrance in socks and shorts and ran into the next one.
Fortunately, I had a friend who lived there, and with wild laughter he brought a phone into the hallway and I was able to call my mother at work.

An hour later I was already at home and munching on my favorite sausage sandwiches. And my mother called someone and cried until she was shaking in her hands.
This is such a sudden “flashback” to the coming dream...

My great-uncle, who at the end of his life moved to us from the Crimea, told me about this mysterious case. Whether it was witchcraft or temporary insanity is up to you to judge.

Their village was the most ordinary, not even a resort. Grandfather Oleg was born there, studied at a school to become a carpenter, and got a job on a collective farm. At that time, he was a young guy, his hands grew from where they were needed, and there was not enough money, even with a quite decent salary of one hundred and ten rubles. That's where the grandfather was playing. There has always been a lot of work in the village - the floorboards will creak, the porch will sag, the roof needs a new one. The carpenter was never left without work.

And they had “Babkinskaya Street” on the edge of the village. Mostly old women lived there, and without relatives. They were not particularly liked; they were neither Russian nor Ukrainian. Like Moldavian. Each has its own farm, they help their own a little, but they don’t care about “strangers”. Even though the house across the street will be on fire, they won’t give you a bucket. We lived by the principle: “My house is on the edge.”

But sometimes, of course, they asked for help. Although they themselves were cheerful, they were still grandmothers. That’s when one of them asked her grandfather to fix her porch. The boards there were rotten, they argued for a long time over the price, but settled on eight rubles. There was essentially nothing to do there, so Oleg agreed. She told us when to come, and that’s what we agreed on.

Namely, on that day, Archbishop Luka of Crimea and Simferopol arrived in a neighboring village for a service. A church had just been built there. But it must be said that all believers revered Luke as a holy man; even ten years ago (or maybe less) the Russian Church canonized him as a Saint. He was considered a very devout churchman.

Oleg remembered all of this later, when he put it all together. And then he simply went to that same grandmother. Eight rubles for a couple of hours of work, you still have to manage to earn that much. I came to the place and looked, the porch was really quite bad. He started knocking on the door to see the owner, but no one responded to the sound. He hit the door a little harder and it opened.

He shouted, shouted, stepped onto the threshold. The hostess does not respond. I reached the second room - no one was there, I was about to leave. But then I noticed a strange noise, like bees swarming. It’s clear that no one in their right mind would keep beehives at home. So not bees. He started walking around the house, but he couldn’t figure out where the sound was coming from. It seems like it’s there, you take a step to the side, it subsides.

I stomped around like that for a long time until I saw a door in the floor. Then I realized where the noise was coming from. He opened the underground, there was such a buzzing noise from there that he pulled away to the side, but nothing came out. I came closer, and there was darkness, only faint outlines, as if large figures were moving. He lit a match and brought it closer to the darkness.

Then he said that he had never felt such fear in his life. Those Moldavian grandmothers were huddled in the underground, every single one of them. And if only it were strange, then it’s not so bad. Their heads were raised and everyone looked up. But the eyes were covered with a white haze, as if everyone had gone blind at once. The hair is disheveled, and the toothless mouths are constantly moving, making those same sounds.

Grandfather probably would have stood there for an eternity, he was so paralyzed by this wild picture, but the match burned out, and the pain made him scream slightly and throw away the burnt wooden stick. The underground was again shrouded in darkness, through which the old women still hummed monotonously. Oleg put the door back and quietly left the house.

The next day he met the same old woman who was supposed to be repairing the porch. She apologized and said that she urgently needed to leave. She asked if he had come. The grandfather replied that he was there, knocking, but not finding the owner of the house, he left. Then they agreed on another day. Then everything went without incident.

Only a week later, Oleg brought these two circumstances together: the strange behavior of the old women hiding in the underground, and the arrival of a holy man, Archbishop Luke, in the neighboring village. Apparently, the grandmothers were very uncomfortable being near such a strong priest.

Grandfather Oleg left the village seventeen years later to join us in Smolensk. Here I got married and had a daughter, my aunt. He said that in all these seventeen years, not one of the old Moldavian women died. Of course, the grandmothers have aged a little, but they have not become senile. They had plenty of strength and agility. What happened to them later, he does not know; there were no relatives left in that village, and until his death his grandfather did not return there.

Anonymous please! Since childhood, I have heart-rendingly believed in everything unknown and mysterious, and in my own practice, a lot of things have happened that I would like to explain, on the one hand, and on the other hand, to never encounter it again. Alas, either I’m the kind of person who attracts all sorts of things, or I’m just lucky for all sorts of devilry.

This happened in January before Epiphany holidays. All my relatives left for their own business, I was left alone in the apartment. I have always responded adequately to loneliness and was never afraid to be alone. Yes, I had never thought before that something could happen to me in the apartment I knew from childhood.

So this time, left alone, reading magazines at night, I fell asleep peacefully. I woke up at two in the morning from someone knocking on the window of the next room. The sound of your knuckles knocking on the glass of a plastic double-glazed window cannot be confused with anything. I listened, thinking that I had imagined it after all. Five minutes passed, I calmed down and began to fall asleep. But the knocking on the window glass repeated again, even louder than the first time.

I sat down on the bed. The door to the next room was closed. This was my brother’s room, and when he left, he usually locked it with a key, leaving it in the keyhole on my side. Naturally, it didn’t even occur to me to go see who was knocking on the window on the fourth floor at night. Then I glanced at my window. The thought came, if It was knocking on the window of the next room, that it should knock on my window. This thought made my heart sank and I felt suffocated with fear. Closing my eyes, I ran to my window and pulled the curtains tightly. It won't be so scary anyway. My imagination was already drawing something terrible, similar to all the monsters from the horror films I had watched in my entire life.

The knock came again. But this time through the door of the next room from the inside. In horror, I went to the door and took the key out of the keyhole, thanking my brother for his habit of locking his room with a key. I stood in front of the door and felt that there, behind the door, there was something or someone standing and hiding, waiting to see what I would do next.

From the horror that washed over me, I couldn’t even think. Five minutes passed and there was no knock. Then scratching sounds were heard, as if they were trying to open the door from the other side, trying to pry it open with their fingers. The shock made me dizzy and nausea rose in my throat.

In general, I did what they do in traditional horror films - I locked myself in the bathroom and shook there until the morning.

Along the way, remembering that I always felt uncomfortable in my brother’s room and once again I tried not to go there.

What was it? I ask myself this question to this day. I read a lot of literature, I had a lot of assumptions, but whatever it was, I don’t want to relive a night like this again.

The photo of the ghost was taken by amateur photographer Ilya Levin

There are many cases when photographs suddenly reveal figures or faces of people who were not in the frame at that time. As a rule, these figures are blurry, their faces are unclear, but no one dares to attribute the appearance of these strange guests to a defective film or digital camera. Here is a story from the life of Boris Semenovich Levin, an amateur photographer.

— I have been doing photography for forty years. As a child, I started with a simple Smena-7 camera, then acquired a FED, and a little later a Zenit. They were followed by sophisticated professional cameras Minolta, Canon, now I have one of the latest Nikon models. I spent half my life under a red light, developing films, printing photographs. He collaborated a lot with newspapers and magazines. My photographs were always willingly published there. I could have become a professional photojournalist, but in the provincial town where I lived, newspaper fees were meager, and it was impossible to live on them. That's why I never quit my day job as an engineer, and photography became my lifelong hobby.

A story about an unusual phenomenon

Believe me, I can distinguish defects on film or some side effects on a digital camera from the image that is actually present there. On the Internet today there are a lot of photographs depicting spirits, ghosts, UFOs and other manifestations of extraterrestrial entities. I think that most of them are fakes or jokes, but sometimes something catches you. Sometimes I stare at this or that photograph for a long time and sometimes I feel .

Spiritual photography, which depicts an object from the other world, became widespread in the second half of the 19th century.

It's scary because this happened to me myself. In 1983, I, together with my colleagues, employees of the design bureau, went for two days along the Golden Ring. The bus was provided by the factory, the travel was paid for by the trade union, so all that remained was to enjoy the trip around the most beautiful places Russia. I grabbed my Zenit, five films (they were in terrible short supply at that time) and captured the entire excursion as a memory.

He promised his colleagues that he would print the photographs in a couple of weeks. But urgent matters came up, and after two weeks I didn’t even touch the films. A week later, the chairman of the trade union called me and said that he was preparing to graduate wall newspaper, completely dedicated to the trip around the Golden Ring and, of course, take no pictures. I had to drop everything and get to work in the evening. I developed and printed all night. The pictures turned out great, the weather was good during the trip, there was enough light, and I took pictures without flash.

From the history of ghost photography

One of the ardent supporters of the idea of ​​photographing ghosts was the writer Arthur Conan Doyle. In 1925, he even opened a museum dedicated to ghost photography.

The only thing that slowed me down that night, surprised me and even scared me were photographs of one of our employees, Marxina Stepanovna. She was already an elderly woman, by that time she was retired, but she was invited on the trip as the oldest employee of the design bureau. In the first photograph where she was captured, a gray spot appeared behind her, similar to a human figure. Moreover, the figure was large and Marksina Stepanovna seemed to be standing in its shadow. The picture was taken in Vladimir. At first I didn’t suspect anything, decided that it was a technical defect, and immediately threw the loose photo into the trash. A minute later it turned black and it was no longer possible to distinguish anything on it. The next photo is Suzdal.

From the history of ghost photography

1861 is considered the official date of the emergence of spirit photography. Then the American W. G. Mumler discovered that the photograph he developed was the image of his late cousin

A woman stands in front of a museum wooden architecture. Behind him is the same figure. I have already put this photo in the fixer, I became interested. The third is Ivanovo. Monument to Frunze. Near him, with ice cream in her hand, is Marksina Stepanovna, behind her is a gray silhouette.

• Kostroma - Ipatiev Monastery.
• Yaroslavl - John the Baptist.
• Rostov - Spaso-Yakovlevsky Monastery.
• Pereslavl-Zalessky - Museum of Crafts.
• Sergiev Posad - Lavra.

Did you guess it? And I was scared. As I printed more photos, I became more and more uneasy.

From the history of ghost photography

The first, from the point of view of the spiritualists themselves, to obtain a reliable image of a ghost was photographer F. Hudson in March 1872

How much there is in the world, friend Horatio

In the morning I took a magnifying glass and began to look at the films. There was no foreign image on them; it only appeared during printing. I didn’t know what to think; I didn’t tell anyone anything, just in case. Marksina Stepanovna was a delicate woman, so she didn’t call me or ask about the photographs. I distributed them to the rest of the employees a long time ago. And yet this didn’t give me peace of mind, so I decided to talk to her. Maybe she knows something, although on the other hand, these pictures might scare her.

From the history of ghost photography

In 1903 in the hall Psychological Society An exhibition of Boursnel's ghosts was organized. The photographer presented 300 photographs on it

So I spent several days thinking, and when I finally decided to visit her, I saw her portrait in a mourning frame on the notice board in the design bureau. “At the age of 76, the oldest employee of our design bureau suddenly died...” There were three of us from the organization. In general, a lot of people gathered. We stood at the coffin and laid flowers. My colleagues went to the cemetery and then to the wake. I am going home. At first I kept these pictures in a cake box where I had some unwanted photo junk that I thought I might need someday. Sometimes I took it out and spent a long time looking at the views of the cities of the “Golden Ring” with a dead woman and a dark silhouette behind her. But then it began to seem to me that these photographs somehow had a bad effect on me, and I took them to the barn.