Two Months of Fear

When I came to study in Novosibirsk, I lived for three months in the village of Severny. I was forced to live there, because the owners of my rented apartment, having received three months' worth of money at once, disappeared without leaving any contact information. The reason later became clear: the heating in the living room wasn't working. So, for two months, I had to sleep in my clothes. What could I do? A student's finances are a disaster—there was no money for a new lease.

After living through September peacefully, I'd gotten used to it. It was livable—even though the apartment left much to be desired, I could do whatever I wanted. But then the first cold weather arrived, and I realized I had to close the door to my room before bed, otherwise it would quickly freeze over at night. That's when I heard shuffling in the hallway.

The general pattern of the poltergeist was as follows:

1) shuffling footsteps start in the kitchen and continue to the door of the room;

 2) the footsteps stop in front of the closed door and shift from foot to foot (I could literally hear the stamping);

3) "It" turns around and goes back to the kitchen, but doesn't always make it there (most often it does). Sometimes it would turn back halfway, and I could clearly hear it turning around in the hallway, like a hundred-year-old grandfather, shuffling and brushing against the walls.

The following details added a special twist to this horror film:

a) a rumbling sound that occasionally occurs (usually when something is standing in front of the door to the room) – like dogs growling in their sleep;

b) a change in the route: instead of the standard "kitchen - door to the room - kitchen," it could be "kitchen - turn in the hallway - kitchen - and a minute later, suddenly, growling under the door";

c) some kind of commotion in the kitchen.

 Naturally, I initially hypothesized that it might be the structures moving (the cold weather had set in, after all), but I quickly realized that explanation was untenable. And yes, I'm a healthy, mentally stable person; I couldn't have been imagining it for so long.

By the way, when I was awake at night, say, solving physics problems, the hallway was quiet. But as soon as I lay down, the movement would start. Surely the structures couldn't have waited for me to finish my physics?

There were never any noises during the day. On weekends, I'd catch up on my sleep during the day, making up for the sleep I'd lost during the week.

Those were two months of pure horror. As soon as I turned off the light, all hell broke loose. Many times I wanted to force myself to yank the door open while "it" was still standing there, but I never mustered the courage. Going to the bathroom at night? Forget it! We'll wait until morning.

 You can laugh at this situation, be ironic (I myself like to tell it with a smile over a bottle of beer), but as soon as I remember it properly, a chill runs down my spine again.

So, after two months, I myself turned into a ghost. I grew emaciated, became nervous, slept fully clothed, with the radio on and the lights on. Before the army, I thought things couldn't get any worse.

The landlords didn't even show up on my move-out day, so I had to put the keys under the doormat, slam the door as hard as I could, and leave that damned abode of evil forever. Maybe the apartment is still rented out there, waiting for another clueless tenant.