Eight mystical stories

Preface

The hatred of a dying person will forever remain in the world of the living. And sometimes it becomes a monstrous curse from which there is no escape. The curse is worse than death itself.

Every day we do something, both good and bad.

But do we think that our every action will come back to us like a boomerang?

For good, we get happiness, health, love, and for evil, troubles and sufferings fall upon us.

The reckoning can come both on the day of the offense, and after many years.

And sometimes a terrible curse falls on a person who has committed a grave sin, which turns this person’s life into a horror as black as a moonless night.

When retribution is many times more terrible than evil deeds, and when death becomes mercy. The heroes of this story considered themselves gods in life and never thought about the consequences of their actions.

Murder

1996.

The gloomy, gray sky hung low over the ground, and it seemed that it was about to crush the landings and smear passing cars on the asphalt. A fine, nasty rain was falling, and despite the fact that it was the height of summer, the northwest wind was blowing, always bringing bad weather and dampness. The weather that day was cool and chilly, like late autumn.

A Zhiguli «Six» appeared on the federal highway, driving at a fairly high speed, the car turned off the landing and then drove along a dirt road, threatening to get stuck in the mud at any second.

After driving away from the busy highway, the car stopped, and three shaven-headed, hefty lads got out of it.

Shivering from the coolness and wrapping themselves in their leather jackets, the guys walked around the car and approached the trunk.

– Well, come on, Koshchey, unlock it, – said one of the guys.

The one who was called Koshchei opened the trunk.

The guys saw a beaten and bloody homeless man lying in the bowels of the trunk.

One of the bandits, with obvious disgust on his face, pulled this man of indeterminate age into the light of day and with a sharp push sent him to the nearest puddle to swim.

– For what? What have I done to you? What? The tramp looked hunted at his tormentors.

– Shut up, you bastard! The bandit replied. «Just because you’re a rotten, smelly, always drunk brute, just for that you should be sent to eternal rest.

The guys considered themselves cool, gods and thought they had the right to decide the fate of people.

Killing homeless people was their favorite pastime: no one would look for them, no one would miss them.

There was a man and there is no man. All three rushed to beat the unfortunate homeless man with their feet, trampling him into the mud.

– Well, that’s it, good, – said one of them. – It’s time…

A knife flashed in Koshchei’s hand.

– What do you say finally, eh, trash?

The tramp got up from the ground with great difficulty and knelt down, blood was flowing from his broken mouth, his nose was broken.

Bubbling and gurgling sounds came from the broken chest. The man stretched out his hands to the sky:

«May you be cursed, cursed forever, forever and ever. You will burn in the fiery Hell. And you, you son of a bitch,» the homeless man pointed his finger at the Iron Man standing in front of him with a knife, «May punishment befall you: all your relatives, all those who gave birth to you and whom you will give birth to, let them all die in suffering, as I suffered, so they will suffer for your sins, you will bury everyone!

The bandits seemed to be doused with ice water from such words, and they all began to shake with a small tremor.

With some kind of bestial, sixth sense, they felt that these were not just words spoken in a fit of impotent anger, this was something more.

The bandit named Iron, standing with a knife in front of the crippled man, regained consciousness, took a step forward and plunged the knife into the throat of the unfortunate, and then again and again.

It was all over. The bandits dragged the body into the forest belt and threw leaves in the hope that no one would ever find it.

We returned home in silence, in complete silence.

Iron walked and thought about his mother, but he did not yet know that he would not see her again.

This evening, a woman returning from the store right in front of the house was hit to death by a car.

15 years later

The Iron one had the name Kostya, he was hurriedly dressing in the hallway, he had to take his eldest daughter Galya to school, and then rush to work himself.

Putting on his shoes, he kissed his wife before leaving, accompanied by his daughter, and they left the apartment with Aveline.

We took the elevator down and headed to the Audi parked on the side of the road.

The engine started and the car slid quietly between the houses, heading for the main road. He took his daughter to school.

After the death of his mother, Kostya firmly believed that the unfortunate tramp really cursed him.

He decided to start a new, honest life. Having received a substantial inheritance from their mother in the form of a Moscow three-room apartment, they themselves lived in the apartment of their father, who died in 1992, and rented the Moscow apartment to tenants, receiving substantial profits for this.

Kostya broke all ties with his wayward friends, and soon moved to another city altogether.

A place where no one knows him, where he knows no one, he went to a place where you can start life with a clean slate.

He sold his Moscow apartment. After graduating from the financial institute, Kostya got a job as a bank employee, soon married a girl who gave birth to his beautiful daughter.

All he had left of his former life was a photograph that was in the glove compartment of the car.

In the photo, he and his friends are sitting at a table, a bottle of vodka is in front of him, Koshchei is sitting to the right of the Bone, a Loaf is on the left.

Kostya was unaware of the fate of his friends.

The man didn’t worry about the curse, fifteen years have passed and nothing bad has happened and maybe everything will work out..