My friend has a grandmother. She's been living alone since her husband died recently—an ordinary old man who was never into Satanism or any of that nonsense. But on some significant day after his death (either the 9th, or the 40th, or after one of those days), the grandmother was cleaning the house and discovered a stack of photographs on the table under the telephone, in the same pile with the phone book. There were about five photographs, all quite old. They all depicted a coffin photographed from different angles. Inside the coffin lay the old woman's body. It's worth describing the setting: a wooden floor, lit so that the entire coffin, standing on two wooden stools, was also illuminated. Beyond this illuminated area, there was darkness, meaning it was impossible to discern the nature of the room. The coffin was roughly constructed from unfinished wooden planks—it could easily be called a box. The roof was pulled down, revealing the corpse from the waist up.
Now about the dead body. As mentioned above, an old woman lay in the coffin. Her face was full of horror and despair, her mouth wide open, her eyes bulging. Foam was pouring from her mouth. Nevertheless, her body position and glassy eyes clearly indicated that she was dead. No, this wasn't the same old woman my friend's grandmother had found these photographs. The finder was seriously frightened and secretly showed them to her relatives, including my friend, but no one could say anything about them, except that no one in the family had ever seen these photos before. Ultimately, they decided to burn them...
By the way, my grandfather was never much of a photography enthusiast. How he got these pictures, and what the hell is going on in them, is a mystery.
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