Creepy meeting in the wrong place

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In our area in early summer all the beekeepers-lovers take their bees and go to the places a good honey yield. And I’ve always tried to do the same.

Ten miles from our city center there is a place called the Millstone. In the distant Imperial times there to produce good-quality stone used to make millstones for mills. Now there is a huge pits, overgrown with trees and bushes.

I arrived at the car, to which was hitched a trailer for housing, and decided to stay there with their bees.

An old experienced beekeeper advised me to go there because it’s a bad place. But I did not attach importance to him. The beautiful nature, the bees have somewhere to fly, why look for something else?

Жуткие встречи в нехорошем месте

One day I spent the whole day working with bees. Tired from the evening NAP, and by midnight, sleep is not wanted. Lying with open eyes.

I hear someone scratching at the door of the trailer. Thought: who brought it in the night? Open the door -no one. But fifteen meters from the trailer is an old half-withered Apple trees, near which a small clearing.

In the moonlight was clearly visible as a dense clump of fog that looks like a woman, walks slowly back to the ground.

During the long years of life I’ve seen it all, but the phenomenon has never faced.

The next night the same thing happened. I got out of the van, took a stone and put it on the place where she had been a clot of fog. And in the morning went to Church. There I the priest said,

— Maybe it’s ripped apart someone’s lost soul.

And learn how to perform the ritual, that this does not recur.

Honestly, I thrice held the ritual, and then met with the elders of the nearest village, from which he learned that this place was once murdered girl. And although I’m worried, the soul left an unpleasant aftertaste, and I moved out of this place with his bees.

But that was not the end.

Not far from the place where I moved with my bees, there was a small ravine, by which I went to his apiary. At the bottom of the ravine, next to other trees, grew a big old pear tree with large fruits. I thought by this time some varieties of pears are ripening already, and decided to go to the ravine.

Came, and everything around is densely overgrown with blackthorn not fit. Then I found a place to climb, and approaching the pear, came across a man hanging in the loop. He was in a warm jacket, boots, hat and mittens. Apparently, hanging back in the winter. Eyes closed but face not spoiled. Direct sunlight did not fall, but rather a tangible draft contributed to something like mummification.

It is here that I was not to pears. Reported to the police. Came, removed, taken away. I never found out who it was and why it died. But the soul has again become anxious. So in the center season twice I encountered something otherworldly.

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