A scary story about the New Year. Alexander Barkov-Bortsov

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      Chapter 7

      I finally got out of the windfall.

      Before me lay a field covered with a white shroud.

      The wind and snowstorm increased.

      It was hard to stay on my feet.

      Icicles of ice hung from the hood of

      my windbreaker.

      It’s hard to breathe in the bitter cold,

      especially when you’re running.

      But I didn’t give up.

      If I lie down in the snow and immediately turn into a snowdrift…

      That’s what awaits the traveler who has lost

      faith in a happy outcome.

      I’ll try my luck-maybe I’ll find an abandoned hut on a lonely farm.

      https://youtu.be/6Ar_cidP_AI

      Chapter 8

      When you freeze on a dark, dark winter night, your

      blood gets cold, your

      mouth is dry, you can try to quench your thirst with snow.

      But I do not recommend anyone to do this

      in a strong blizzard.

      It’s bad luck to eat snow.

      Anything can happen.

      I reached a lonely farmstead,

      approached a log cabin standing alone on the edge of the forest.

      I didn’t see any light or smoke coming from the chimney.

      Here! – I thought.

      I will try.

      But what is it?

      At a distant railroad crossing in a field, red lights flashed in the

      night… and some kind of rumble.

      What’s it? A chase?

      I had to lie down in a snowdrift and lie there for a few minutes until

      the lights disappeared.

      I crawled slowly toward the fence of the lone log cabin.

      The rickety gray fence fell apart.

      No tenants, – I thought.

      He parted the boards and quickly jumped into the darkness.

      I hurt myself badly.

      He fell on a pile of wood near the gate.

      and he tore his leg badly on a rusty nail.

      Sticking out of the fence board.

      I rubbed my bruised knee, wrapped my hand in a rag, and began

      to walk around the house.

      The house was an old two-storey and non-residential… But there

      was a chimney from the stove on the roof..

      I saw the door and tried it, but it was locked and wouldn’t budge.

      I thought badly, and began to walk around the house, I saw that on

      the second floor there was a manhole, through the balcony.

      Green wooden railing, and a plywood door.

      What a stroke of luck, I thought.

      But how to climb?

      I saw an iron wire hanging from a snow-covered apple tree, took it

      off, made a small detour, and threw the wire up to the second floor..

      It caught on the balcony railing.

      Turn out.

      I began to climb the sheer wall.

      I had to climb about five meters in the dark.

      He climbed over the railing and onto the flimsy green balcony. The

      fence was made of thin boards.

      Four of them were missing. The balcony was swaying.

      I quickly examined the plywood door.

      He ran a black glove over the smooth surface. A little push.

      But she resisted…

      then I began to violently beat my fist in the place where I assumed

      there was a light lock.

      Hit hard and loud several times.

      Watchmen may come running.