Nyuga

This story happened a couple of days ago.

The doorbell rang around three in the morning.

Worshiping my mother, the one who kept me from getting enough sleep, I opened the door. A tearful neighbor stood on the threshold.

When I asked, "What happened?" she sobbed and told me that she had someone at home, and that her parents had gone out of town and wouldn't be back until morning. Yawning uncivilly, we put on our slippers and went to her place to find out the reason for such a fright.

Oddly enough, the lights in her house weren't working; the circuit breakers weren't responding to being turned on or off, and the light in the entryway was still on. Upon entering the apartment, the first thing I noticed was movement in the room. It looked like some kind of animal was crawling around there. Shining my phone flashlight, I saw something resembling an ugly, small old woman. Old, ugly rags, small eyes gleaming angrily in the flashlight's light, tangled hair, and hooked fingers haphazardly tugging at the clothes. That's how I remember this creature.

I wouldn't say I was terrified (there was plenty of one terrified person in the apartment), but I was very surprised. I had to do something.

"Who are you?"

"I... nyuuuga..." (I put ellipses after each word, as the creature spoke with difficulty, as if recalling human speech).

The voice was raspy and too high-pitched for an adult.

The neighbor squealed and ran away, leaving me alone with this creature. I looked at the creature, and it glared back at me. Unable to think of anything better to say, I asked the most logical question:

"What do you want here?"

"Nyuga... wants..." At this point, the creature fell silent and began tugging at the clothes even faster. "— Go away!"

— Nyyyyyy... it woo ... There was no dramatic arching of the cat's back, no angry hiss; the cat merely made a disgruntled sound, like a howl in March. The creature began to tug at its clothes even faster, glaring at the cat with obvious aggression.

"Nu ... My neighbor was waiting for me on the stairs, quietly crying. After locking the apartment, we went to my place, where I made her some tea and put her to bed. I was already sleepless, trying to find information that would help me understand what was happening.

That day, when the girl's parents returned, alarmed by the phone call, we all went into the house together. The power was still out (as it later turned out, the apartment's circuit breaker had broken). The apartment was empty, only traces of strange dirt extending from the place where the creature had been to the corner of the next room, reminding me of the night's events. The clothes the creature had been going through were also covered in similarly strange dirt.