Parallel world. Russia

Zakharevich E.A. writes to the section for the Study of anomalous phenomena.:

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10 years later, in the summer of 1983, I was in a penal colony. Tagara settlement, Kezhemsky district of the Krasnoyarsk Territory. I managed to get a job at a water pump - a very profitable job according to those concepts - I turned on the pump, filled the water, turned it off, that's all. And even to heat the stove. I was warned that pumping places is very unpleasant, gloomy. A man was killed there recently. But I didn't care, as long as it wasn't in the taiga. I spent my time there, at the water pump, not bad - I read books, went fishing, went to the taiga along the river, tried to wash the gold, they used to wash it, but I gave up because it was not enough. Everything is fine, but it's really not pleasant there at night. Someone is walking under the floor, then in the attic. I thought it was all seeming, but soon it happened... I bought powdered milk at the store, I go and chew on the way, it crunches in my mouth, instead of chewing for lack of a better one. I came to the water pump, boiled the water, threw the powder in there - oh, the mugs hit me in the face with dough! I took a handful of powder from the bag, threw it into my mouth, and there was no powdered milk, but flour... But don't think that I got it wrong, the fact is that I haven't had flour for a week.

A couple of days later, I woke up at night from some kind of unpleasant feeling. I looked at my watch - exactly 2. I slept by the light, covered my head with pea jackets on a bench in the middle of a water pump. And now I hear someone coming down the stairs from above, from the attic, I hear the stairs creaking. Who is it? You can't climb into the attic from the yard, the door is locked on a hook from the inside, and you can't fit into the tiny window either... And so it came down, walking around me, and I want to stick my head out and look, and it's creepy, and scary, and interesting at the same time. But then I reasoned that if it doesn't touch me, then it's better not to shine your muzzle. No matter what happens. and so I fell asleep.

I checked in the morning - everything is in place, nothing was stolen, the door is closed, but... there was a bowl under the wall, there were several fir trees sprinkled with salt (a fir tree is a fish like oyster or roach). The fish were pinned with an image of a board, and half a dozen bricks on top. All this structure was in place, as I put everything together, but when I took off the pegs and the board, I was amazed - one of the fir trees was bitten in half. I didn't like all this very much.

And so a few days later - I was sleeping with the lights off, on a bench near the stove - I woke up again from the same feeling. And a metallic female voice is heard from the screech of the stove - "What, bitch, did you get settled here, and about the pre-trial detention center (or Sizov?) Have you forgotten?" The pre-trial detention center is a pre-trial detention center, and I do not know who Sizov is. So I jump up and bang on the door. I was very scared. Someone grabs my leg, others twist my arms, strangle me by the throat, I pull out and forward, but I can't get through the door, they grab me again, I'm back against the wall, I don't hear a sound anymore, only some vague gray-blue translucent clouds, jets of floating trembling light Whether they were - I do not know, some kind of figures.

And so I embroider the door, and I fall - knee-deep in snow, it's dog cold, it's dark all around, there's no lantern, no fire anywhere. I feel like I'm going to freeze very soon, the windows of the houses are black, dead, I'm wandering to the store. There's a shift girl there. She has until morning, just to get there, she doesn't have the strength anymore...

And so I'm standing ankle-deep in dust, I walked 300-200 meters away from the water pump, lights are on everywhere - both in the garage, and at the police radio station, and somewhere else, the watchwoman is yelling at me and waving her hands. I'm coming up. the door is wide open at the water pump, the light is on - the puppy is barking like mad. She's like Eugene to me, what's the matter with you? In my underwear, I kicked down the door, ran, stumbled and stood for half an hour. I'm shouting at you, you can't hear, it's scary to approach you. You turned on the light, everything is as it should be, and the dog is barking, and it's almost an hour since he won't calm down.

I didn't answer anything, waved my hand, brewed a chifir and didn't sleep until morning. It was about a quarter to three when I came to, so it was again at 2 a.m. A few days later, on July 13, 1983, the cops broke my rib and thank God they didn't kill me - everything is like at the same pumping station.

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