close the curtains, build up the fire, draw near children ..

Discussion in 'Films, Music, TV & All Things Artsy' started by golden_rivet, Dec 18, 2007.

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  1. Christmas is a time for spooky things. Strange noises outside the window, what is that lurking in the shadows?

    Post your spooky stuff here. I'm starting off with something scary (though I admit not particularly seasonal) ... some good winter ghost stories would be good. I love being scared ...

    Here goes :

    Scary Mary

  2. Beware the benign, for that is alien.

    And you are spending Crimbo within sight of Pendle Cheek. Sweet dreams.
  3. Re: close the curtains, build up the fire, draw near childre


    There was an old woman who had no family still living. Her only friend was a little white dog who went everywhere with her - with one exception. The dog loved the fireplace in winter, and after the old woman went to bed he would sometimes go and lie in front of the warm coals. Usually though, the dog slept at the very edge of the bed on a throw rug.

    The woman wouldn't allow the dog on the bed with her, but if she became frightened or had a nightmare, she would put her hand down to the little white dog and he would lick it reassuringly.

    One night the woman was reading her newspaper just before going to sleep. She shivered and pulled the comforter up around her as she read that a mental patient had wandered off from a nearby hospital. No one knew if the patient was dangerous of not; he was a suspect in the murders of several women who had lived alone.

    The woman turned out the lights and tried to sleep, but she was frightened, and tossed and turned fitfully. Finally, she reached down to where the little white dog slept. Sure enough, a warm, wet tongue began to lick her hand. The woman felt reassured and safe, and left her hand dangling off the bed as she turned and settled in comfortably. She opened her eyes for a moment and looked through the open door into the living room.

    There in front of the fireplace, sat her little white dog, gazing at the coals and wagging his tail.

    Down beside the bed, something was still licking her hand.
  4. Re: close the curtains, build up the fire, draw near childre

    WITHOUT, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked comment from the white-haired old lady knitting placidly by the fire.
    "Hark at the wind," said Mr. White, who, having seen a fatal mistake after it was too late, was amiably desirous of preventing his son from seeing it.
    "I'm listening," said the latter, grimly surveying the board as he stretched out his hand. "Check."
    "I should hardly think that he'd come to-night," said his father, with his hand poised over the board.
    "Mate," replied the son.
    "That's the worst of living so far out," bawled Mr. White, with sudden and unlooked-for violence; "of all the beastly, slushy, out-of-the-way places to live in, this is the worst. Pathway's a bog, and the road's a torrent. I don't know what people are thinking about. I suppose because only two houses on the road are let, they think it doesn't matter."
    "Never mind, dear," said his wife soothingly; "perhaps you'll win the next one."
    Mr. White looked up sharply, just in time to intercept a knowing glance between mother and son. The words died away on his lips, and he hid a guilty grin in his thin grey beard.
    "There he is," said Herbert White, as the gate banged to loudly and heavy footsteps came toward the door.
    The old man rose with hospitable haste, and opening the door, was heard condoling with the new arrival. The new arrival also condoled with himself, so that Mrs. White said, "Tut, tut!" and coughed gently as her husband entered the room, followed by a tall burly man, beady of eye and rubicund of visage.
    "Sergeant-Major Morris," he said, introducing him.
    The sergeant-major shook hands, and taking the proffered seat by the fire, watched contentedly while his host got out whisky and tumblers and stood a small copper kettle on the fire.
    At the third glass his eyes got brighter, and he began to talk, the little family circle regarding with eager interest this visitor from distant parts, as he squared his broad shoulders in the chair and spoke of strange scenes and doughty deeds; of wars and plagues and strange peoples.
    "Twenty-one years of it," said Mr. White, nodding at his wife and son. "When he went away he was a slip of a youth in the warehouse. Now look at him."
    "He don't look to have taken much harm," said Mrs. White, politely.
    "I'd like to go to India myself," said the old man, "just to look round a bit, you know."
    "Better where you are," said the sergeant-major, shaking his head. He put down the empty glass, and sighing softly, shook it again.
    "I should like to see those old temples and fakirs and jugglers," said the old man. "What was that you started telling me the other day about a monkey's paw or something, Morris?"
    "Nothing," said the soldier hastily. "Leastways, nothing worth hearing."
    "Monkey's paw?" said Mrs. White curiously.
    "Well, it's just a bit of what you might call magic, perhaps," said the sergeant-major off-handedly.
    His three listeners leaned forward eagerly. The visitor absentmindedly put his empty glass to his lips and then set it down again. His host filled it for him.
    "To look at," said the sergeant-major, fumbling in his pocket, "it's just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy."
    He took something out of his pocket and proffered it. Mrs. White drew back with a grimace, but her son, taking it, examined it curiously.
    "And what is there special about it?" inquired Mr. White, as he took it from his son and, having examined it, placed it upon the table.
    "It had a spell put on it by an old fakir," said the sergeant-major, "a very holy man. He wanted to show that fate ruled people's lives, and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. He put a spell on it so that three separate men could each have three wishes from it."
    His manner was so impressive that his hearers were conscious that their light laughter jarred somewhat.
    "Well, why don't you have three, sir?" said Herbert White cleverly.
    The soldier regarded him in the way that middle age is wont to regard presumptuous youth. "I have," he said quietly, and his blotchy face whitened.
    "And did you really have the three wishes granted?" asked Mrs. White.
    "I did," said the sergeant-major, and his glass tapped against his strong teeth.
    "And has anybody else wished?" inquired the old lady.
    "The first man had his three wishes, yes," was the reply. "I don't know what the first two were, but the third was for death. That's how I got the paw."
    His tones were so grave that a hush fell upon the group.
    "If you've had your three wishes, it's no good to you now, then, Morris," said the old man at last. "What do you keep it for?"
    The soldier shook his head. "Fancy, I suppose," he said slowly.
    "If you could have another three wishes," said the old man, eyeing him keenly, "would you have them?"
    "I don't know," said the other. "I don't know."
    He took the paw, and dangling it between his front finger and thumb, suddenly threw it upon the fire. White, with a slight cry, stooped down and snatched it off.
    "Better let it burn," said the soldier solemnly.
    "If you don't want it, Morris," said the old man, "give it to me."
    "I won't," said his friend doggedly. "I threw it on the fire. If you keep it, don't blame me for what happens. Pitch it on the fire again, like a sensible man."
    The other shook his head and examined his new possession closely. "How do you do it?" he inquired.
    "Hold it up in your right hand and wish aloud,' said the sergeant-major, "but I warn you of the consequences."
    "Sounds like the Arabian Nights," said Mrs White, as she rose and began to set the supper. "Don't you think you might wish for four pairs of hands for me?"
    Her husband drew the talisman from his pocket and then all three burst into laughter as the sergeant-major, with a look of alarm on his face, caught him by the arm.
    "If you must wish," he said gruffly, "wish for something sensible."
    Mr. White dropped it back into his pocket, and placing chairs, motioned his friend to the table. In the business of supper the talisman was partly forgotten, and afterward the three sat listening in an enthralled fashion to a second instalment of the soldier's adventures in India.
    "If the tale about the monkey paw is not more truthful than those he has been telling us," said Herbert, as the door closed behind their guest, just in time for him to catch the last train, "we shan't make much out of it."
    "Did you give him anything for it, father?" inquired Mrs. White, regarding her husband closely.
    "A trifle," said he, colouring slightly. "He didn't want it, but I made him take it. And he pressed me again to throw it away."
    "Likely," said Herbert, with pretended horror. "Why, we're going to be rich, and famous, and happy. Wish to be an emperor, father, to begin with; then you can't be henpecked."
    He darted round the table, pursued by the maligned Mrs. White armed with an antimacassar.
    Mr. White took the paw from his pocket and eyed it dubiously. "I don't know what to wish for, and that's a fact," he said slowly. "It seems to me I've got all I want."
    "If you only cleared the house, you'd be quite happy, wouldn't you?" said Herbert, with his hand on his shoulder. "Well, wish for two hundred pounds, then; that'll just do it."
    His father, smiling shamefacedly at his own credulity, held up the talisman, as his son, with a solemn face somewhat marred by a wink at his mother, sat down at the piano and struck a few impressive chords.
    "I wish for two hundred pounds," said the old man distinctly.
    A fine crash from the piano greeted the words, interrupted by a shuddering cry from the old man. His wife and son ran toward him.
    "It moved, he cried, with a glance of disgust at the object as it lay on the floor. "As I wished it twisted in my hands like a snake."
    "Well, I don't see the money," said his son, as he picked it up and placed it on the table, "and I bet I never shall."
    "It must have been your fancy, father," said his wife, regarding him anxiously.
    He shook his head. "Never mind, though; there's no harm done, but it gave me a shock all the same."
    They sat down by the fire again while the two men finished their pipes. Outside, the wind was higher than ever, and the old man started nervously at the sound of a door banging upstairs. A silence unusual and depressing settled upon all three, which lasted until the old couple rose to retire for the night.
    "I expect you'll find the cash tied up in a big bag in the middle of your bed," said Herbert, as he bade them good-night, "and something horrible squatting up on top of the wardrobe watching you as you pocket your ill-gotten gains."
    He sat alone in the darkness, gazing at the dying fire, and seeing faces in it. The last face was so horrible and so simian that he gazed at it in amazement. It got so vivid that, with a little uneasy laugh, he felt on the table for a glass containing a little water to throw over it. His hand grasped the monkey's paw, and with a little shiver he wiped his hand on his coat and went up to bed.

    IN the brightness of the wintry sun next morning as it streamed over the breakfast table Herbert laughed at his fears. There was an air of prosaic wholesomeness about the room which it had lacked on the previous night, and the dirty, shrivelled little paw was pitched on the sideboard with a carelessness which betokened no great belief in its virtues.
    "I suppose all old soldiers are the same," said Mrs White. "The idea of our listening to such nonsense! How could wishes be granted in these days? And if they could, how could two hundred pounds hurt you, father?"
    "Might drop on his head from the sky," said the frivolous Herbert.
    "Morris said the things happened so naturally," said his father, "that you might if you so wished attribute it to coincidence."
    "Well, don't break into the money before I come back," said Herbert, as he rose from the table. "I'm afraid it'll turn you into a mean, avaricious man, and we shall have to disown you."
    His mother laughed, and following him to the door, watched him down the road, and returning to the breakfast table, was very happy at the expense of her husband's credulity. All of which did not prevent her from scurrying to the door at the postman's knock, nor prevent her from referring somewhat shortly to retired sergeant-majors of bibulous habits when she found that the post brought a tailor's bill.
    "Herbert will have some more of his funny remarks, I expect, when he comes home," she said, as they sat at dinner.
    "I dare say," said Mr. White, pouring himself out some beer; "but for all that, the thing moved in my hand; that I'll swear to."
    "You thought it did," said the old lady soothingly.
    "I say it did," replied the other. "There was no thought about it; I had just----What's the matter?"
    His wife made no reply. She was watching the mysterious movements of a man outside, who, peering in an undecided fashion at the house, appeared to be trying to make up his mind to enter. In mental connection with the two hundred pounds, she noticed that the stranger was well dressed and wore a silk hat of glossy newness. Three times he paused at the gate, and then walked on again. The fourth time he stood with his hand upon it, and then with sudden resolution flung it open and walked up the path. Mrs. White at the same moment placed her hands behind her, and hurriedly unfastening the strings of her apron, put that useful article of apparel beneath the cushion of her chair.
    She brought the stranger, who seemed ill at ease, into the room. He gazed at her furtively, and listened in a preoccupied fashion as the old lady apologized for the appearance of the room, and her husband's coat, a garment which he usually reserved for the garden. She then waited as patiently as her sex would permit, for him to broach his business, but he was at first strangely silent.
    "I--was asked to call," he said at last, and stooped and picked a piece of cotton from his trousers. "I come from Maw and Meggins."
    The old lady started. "Is anything the matter?" she asked breathlessly. "Has anything happened to Herbert? What is it? What is it?"
    Her husband interposed. "There, there, mother," he said hastily. "Sit down, and don't jump to conclusions. You've not brought bad news, I'm sure, sir" and he eyed the other wistfully.
    "I'm sorry----" began the visitor.
    "Is he hurt?" demanded the mother.
    The visitor bowed in assent. "Badly hurt," he said quietly, "but he is not in any pain."
    "Oh, thank God!" said the old woman, clasping her hands. "Thank God for that! Thank----"
    She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other's averted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long silence.
    "He was caught in the machinery," said the visitor at length, in a low voice.
    "Caught in the machinery," repeated Mr. White, in a dazed fashion, "yes."
    He sat staring blankly out at the window, and taking his wife's hand between his own, pressed it as he had been wont to do in their old courting days nearly forty years before.
    "He was the only one left to us," he said, turning gently to the visitor. "It is hard."
    The other coughed, and rising, walked slowly to the window. "The firm wished me to convey their sincere sympathy with you in your great loss," he said, without looking round. "I beg that you will understand I am only their servant and merely obeying orders."
    There was no reply; the old woman's face was white, her eyes staring, and her breath inaudible; on the husband's face was a look such as his friend the sergeant might have carried into his first action.
    "I was to say that Maw and Meggins disclaim all responsibility," continued the other. "They admit no liability at all, but in consideration of your son's services they wish to present you with a certain sum as compensation."
    Mr. White dropped his wife's hand, and rising to his feet, gazed with a look of horror at his visitor. His dry lips shaped the words, "How much?"
    "Two hundred pounds," was the answer.
    Unconscious of his wife's shriek, the old man smiled faintly, put out his hands like a sightless man, and dropped, a senseless heap, to the floor.

    IN the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and remained in a state of expectation as though of something else to happen--something else which was to lighten this load, too heavy for old hearts to bear.
    But the days passed, and expectation gave place to resignation--the hopeless resignation of the old, sometimes miscalled, apathy. Sometimes they hardly exchanged a word, for now they had nothing to talk about, and their days were long to weariness.
    It was about a week after that that the old man, waking suddenly in the night, stretched out his hand and found himself alone. The room was in darkness, and the sound of subdued weeping came from the window. He raised himself in bed and listened.
    "Come back," he said tenderly. "You will be cold."
    "It is colder for my son," said the old woman, and wept afresh.
    The sound of her sobs died away on his ears. The bed was warm, and his eyes heavy with sleep. He dozed fitfully, and then slept until a sudden wild cry from his wife awoke him with a start.
    "The paw!" she cried wildly. "The monkey's paw!"
    He started up in alarm. "Where? Where is it? What's the matter?"
    She came stumbling across the room toward him. "I want it," she said quietly. "You've not destroyed it?"
    "It's in the parlour, on the bracket," he replied, marvelling. "Why?"
    She cried and laughed together, and bending over, kissed his cheek.
    "I only just thought of it," she said hysterically. "Why didn't I think of it before? Why didn't you think of it?"
    "Think of what?" he questioned.
    "The other two wishes," she replied rapidly. "We've only had one."
    "Was not that enough?" he demanded fiercely.
    "No," she cried, triumphantly; "we'll have one more. Go down and get it quickly, and wish our boy alive again."
    The man sat up in bed and flung the bedclothes from his quaking limbs. "Good God, you are mad!" he cried aghast.
    "Get it," she panted; "get it quickly, and wish---- Oh, my boy, my boy!"
    Her husband struck a match and lit the candle. "Get back to bed," he said, unsteadily. "You don't know what you are saying."
    "We had the first wish granted," said the old woman, feverishly; "why not the second."
    "A coincidence," stammered the old man.
    "Go and get it and wish," cried the old woman, quivering with excitement.
    The old man turned and regarded her, and his voice shook. "He has been dead ten days, and besides he--I would not tell you else, but--I could only recognize him by his clothing. If he was too terrible for you to see then, how now?"
    "Bring him back," cried the old woman, and dragged him toward the door. "Do you think I fear the child I have nursed?"
    He went down in the darkness, and felt his way to the parlour, and then to the mantelpiece. The talisman was in its place, and a horrible fear that the unspoken wish might bring his mutilated son before him ere he could escape from the room seized upon him, and he caught his breath as he found that he had lost the direction of the door. His brow cold with sweat, he felt his way round the table, and groped along the wall until he found himself in the small passage with the unwholesome thing in his hand.
    Even his wife's face seemed changed as he entered the room. It was white and expectant, and to his fears seemed to have an unnatural look upon it. He was afraid of her.
    "Wish!" she cried, in a strong voice.
    "It is foolish and wicked," he faltered.
    "Wish!" repeated his wife.
    He raised his hand. "I wish my son alive again."
    The talisman fell to the floor, and he regarded it fearfully. Then he sank trembling into a chair as the old woman, with burning eyes, walked to the window and raised the blind.
    He sat until he was chilled with the cold, glancing occasionally at the figure of the old woman peering through the window. The candle end, which had burnt below the rim of the china candlestick, was throwing pulsating shadows on the ceiling and walls, until, with a flicker larger than the rest, it expired. The old man, with an unspeakable sense of relief at the failure of the talisman, crept back to his bed, and a minute or two afterward the old woman came silently and apathetically beside him.
    Neither spoke, but both lay silently listening to the ticking of the clock. A stair creaked, and a squeaky mouse scurried noisily through the wall. The darkness was oppressive, and after lying for some time screwing up his courage, the husband took the box of matches, and striking one, went downstairs for a candle.
    At the foot of the stairs the match went out, and he paused to strike another, and at the same moment a knock, so quiet and stealthy as to be scarcely audible, sounded on the front door.
    The matches fell from his hand. He stood motionless, his breath suspended until the knock was repeated. Then he turned and fled swiftly back to his room, and closed the door behind him. A third knock sounded through the house.
    "What's that?" cried the old woman, starting up.
    "A rat," said the old man, in shaking tones--"a rat. It passed me on the stairs."
    His wife sat up in bed listening. A loud knock resounded through the house.
    "It's Herbert!" she screamed. "It's Herbert!"
    She ran to the door, but her husband was before her, and catching her by the arm, held her tightly.
    "What are you going to do?" he whispered hoarsely.
    "It's my boy; it's Herbert!" she cried, struggling mechanically. "I forgot it was two miles away. What are you holding me for? Let go. I must open the door."
    "For God's sake, don't let it in," cried the old man trembling.
    "You're afraid of your own son," she cried, struggling. "Let me go. I'm coming, Herbert; I'm coming."
    There was another knock, and another. The old woman with a sudden wrench broke free and ran from the room. Her husband followed to the landing, and called after her appealingly as she hurried downstairs. He heard the chain rattle back and the bottom bolt drawn slowly and stiffly from the socket. Then the old woman's voice, strained and panting.
    "The bolt," she cried loudly. "Come down. I can't reach it."
    But her husband was on his hands and knees groping wildly on the floor in search of the paw. If he could only find it before the thing outside got in. A perfect fusillade of knocks reverberated through the house, and he heard the scraping of a chair as his wife put it down in the passage against the door. He heard the creaking of the bolt as it came slowly back, and at the same moment he found the monkey's paw, and frantically breathed his third and last wish.
    The knocking ceased suddenly, although the echoes of it were still in the house. He heard the chair drawn back and the door opened. A cold wind rushed up the staircase, and a long loud wail of disappointment and misery from his wife gave him courage to run down to her side, and then to the gate beyond. The street lamp flickering opposite shone on a quiet and deserted road.

    by W.W. Jacobs (1902)
  5. Re: close the curtains, build up the fire, draw near childre

    The Stolen Liver


    In the village of Hammer near Czernikowo many years ago there lived a young married couple. The wife loved to eat liver and could not live if she didn't eat a liver every day. One day she sent her husband once again to town to fetch a liver. However, in Czernikowo the husband met a group of young merrymakers and went with them to a tavern, where he drank away all his money.

    Sad, and without the liver, he made his way homeward. It was late. On his way he had to go through a great forest. Here he met a hunter, who asked him why he was so sad. The man told him everything, upon which the hunter said, "In the middle of the forest there is a clearing with a gallows, upon which a number of dead bodies are hanging. Take one of them down, cut out his liver, and give it to your wife. Tell her it is beef liver."

    The man did just that.

    When he arrived home his wife was at first angry because he had been away so long, but she calmed down as soon as she saw the liver, and began frying it. The man lay down and went to sleep.

    Suddenly a white figure appeared at the window, and it cried into the room, "Everyone is asleep. The dogs are keeping watch in the yard. And you are standing there frying my liver."

    The man was terrified, and in his fear he cried out to his wife that she should come to bed. But the wife wanted first to dip a little piece of bread into the gravy and taste it.

    Meanwhile, the phantom, a white skeleton, had already entered the house, always calling out the same words again and again.

    The woman was not afraid, but asked the ghost, "Now, my little fellow, what happened to your flesh?"

    The ghost replied, "The ravens ate it, and the wind blew it away."

    Then the woman asked, "Now, my little fellow, what happened to your eyes and ears?"

    And the ghost answered, "The ravens ate them, and the wind blew them away."

    The woman asked, "Now, my little fellow, what happened to your liver?"

    Then the ghost cried out, "You have it!" And with that he seized the woman and strangled her to death.
  6. Re: close the curtains, build up the fire, draw near childre

    The House on Nikitski Pereulic
    Nikitski Pereulic is a tiny side street that leads away from Tvrskaya about two blocks North of the Kremlin. It is a quiet, residential street, surprisingly isolated from the hustle and bustle of one of the city's busiest thoroughfares, lined with beautiful old houses and apartment buildings, most of which date to the end of the last century. At one time, it was an "elite" section of town, whose dwellings were reserved for high ranking Party Officials.

    Today, the most prominent building on the street is the Tunisian Embassy. Built in the late 1880's, it was once the private home of the mistress of the (in)famous Count Orloff. Seized by the State in the wake of the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution, it then became the residence of a number of prominent Party bosses from a multitude of Departments and Commissions. Finally, in the 1950's, it was given over to the newly independent Tunisia for use as an embassy.
    Nothing of note happened for years. The Embassy of Tunisia went about its normal, everyday business. Personnel came and went, and a series of Ambassadors returned to their native land with wonderful stories of this ornate house with it's oak paneling, rich, deep carpet, gold plated toilet fixtures, walk in closets and bath tub, and solid mahogany Victorian Era furniture. Uncounted diplomats told of how they strolled the lush grounds, behind the ten foot brick fence, and enjoyed the quiet and serene evenings so peacefully, yet so close to the heart of the city.

    All of this stopped in the early spring of 1998, when, all of a sudden the house became plagued by not one apparition, but several, and of the most astounding and disturbing kind. It all seemed to begin when a work crew from the City of Moscow arrived to make repairs to the hot water line leading into the building. Now, for those of you who do not understand, in Moscow, hot water is provided to each building from a central plant which services an entire block. It is carried to the buildings by insulated pipes which are laid approximately seven feet underground in a sealed, cement lined conduit. The entire length of these massive pipes are not routinely serviced. They are subjected to a pressure check by forcing compressed air into them, and if a leak, or loss of pressure shows, only then are they dug up and repaired. Such was the case in May of 1998, when a leak was discovered in the hot water main line leading into the Tunisian Embassy. The leak was located within Embassy grounds, in a section of pipe that had not been disturbed since it was laid in the summer of 1949. Since the work crew did not know exactly where the leak was located, they began at the compound wall, and started digging toward the building, checking each segment of pipe as they went. The problems began almost the moment they sunk their first spade.

    That night, the Ambassador's startled wife was on her way to the second floor toilet, when running down the hall toward her, she saw a naked young girl, screaming silently as she ran, seemingly oblivious to her unclothed state, a look of sheer terror on her face. Needless to say, the Ambassador's wife, a devout Moslem, was shocked, startled, offended, and scared out of her wits as she watched the figure simply vanish at the end of the hall, after running past her with a bone-chilling blast of cold air.

    She returned shakily to her bedroom, and the next morning, told her husband of the startling event. The girl, it seemed, was blond, very pretty, and about fourteen to fifteen years of age. She had long hair, which was done in the traditional-style Russian braids, and she was completely naked. The Ambassador took the story in with somber consideration, and decided that his wife had simply had a nightmare.

    The next night, in a completely different part of the house, the Military Adjutant, Colonel Mohamed Fisal B-----, encountered a similar apparition while walking down a first floor corridor, in route to his office to do some late-night book work. This apparition was also a young girl, probably about the same age as the other, and completely naked. This young woman also ran screaming, quite silently, down the corridor toward the front of the house, disappearing just as she reached the front door. This girl was a brunette, with short, wavy hair.

    There were four other occurrences over the space of the next three nights. The Embassy cook managed to encounter two naked girls at one time, as she made her way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

    Moaning and crying began to be heard throughout the house at night, along with faint but obviously pleading female voices crying for mercy and for God to help them. Some called out for their mothers.

    Needless to say, the entire Embassy was in an uproar. Local employees refused to report in for work. Tunisian employees began to go on "extended holidays" in the country. The Ambassador and several other senior employees. and their wives. devout Moslems all, began to drink rather heavily. One such occurrence could possibly be written off as too much rich food followed by a bad dream. This was six of them within a span of less than a week. Word was spreading, and the Embassy was beginning to receive a certain amount of telephone calls and, even worse, the curious were beginning to gather on the sidewalks outside and gawk at the building.

    Meanwhile, the City Water Department carried out its task. The five-man crew showed up for work each morning at seven am.. right on schedule. In five days of digging, they still had not uncovered the leak that the City of Moscow was convinced existed. There was only one more section to dig up, and that was the one leading directly into the house.

    On the morning of May 16th, 1998, the work crew removed the cement cover of the last segment and found their leak. They also found the cause for the apparitions in the Embassy. Laid out along either side of the hot water pipe, and covered with a substance that medical examiners later called a "caustic substance" were six sets of human remains. They were, according to the medical experts, those of young girls, approximately between the ages of twelve and eighteen. Each had been shot through the base of the skull, and they were, judging from the lack of artifacts found accompanying the bodies, naked at the time of interment. No identifying articles were found. The medical examiners estimated that the remains had been placed alongside the conduit at the time it was laid, in the summer of 1949.

    At the time the conduit was laid, the house on Nikitski Pererulic had been the official residence of Lavrenti P. Beria, then Soviet Minister of Internal Affairs, and Director of the NKVD (Secret Police). No one involved was terribly surprised by the find. The remains were removed, the leak repaired and the conduit replaced. No further reports of sightings have been forthcoming, but, on the other hand, that is quite understandable. The Tunisian Embassy moved into it's new home, located on the other side of Moscow, approximately one month after the bodies were discovered. The beautiful house on Nikitski Pereulic is currently unoccupied.

  7. Re: close the curtains, build up the fire, draw near childre

    A nautical tale:

    Poor old Bill
  8. Re: close the curtains, build up the fire, draw near childre

    You will need the volume on high for this one:

  9. Re: close the curtains, build up the fire, draw near childre

    With an open mind about ghosts I really would like to meet one. Had ' experiences' like many people no doubt and not keen on graveyards but still haven't seen anything like a ghost. Supposed to be a true story on the link below,
  10. Sorry to spoil it but.... There is no such thing as Ghosts... Until I see one I cant believe in em!

    Derek Acora has been searching for them on TV for many months and what does he have to show for it? Nothing. And that is because there is no such thing as ghosts........

    ... Did you see that orb?!
  11. Well there used to be ghosts; and they could fly!


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