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- Nick, this is fucked up. - The first phrase uttered during the long evening. I have nothing to add, it is difficult to describe what happened in some other way. Johnson was finishing for the second pack for the evening, and my head is spinning - not the smoke, not the circumstances in which Alex was gone.

From our old yard party, composed at different times of 10-12 people, but I remained, Johnson said. The others - or left, or drank themselves or sat, and some who are no longer among the living. The company was quite hardcore: Alex Johnson from childhood doing martial arts, and I myself was fighting not one or two times in my life; the first in the early years long and heartily rejoiced in okolofutbol second tusil with the right and, later, ending inst, joined the local motorcycle club, which in record time rose to the Sergeant at Arms, tucked into the waistband of many adults and respectable uncles. And we all loved my submission firearms and shotgun shooting. In general, we settled down quite well, perfectly friendly and seemed to be nothing to prevent us to live happily. Before the day.

On the outskirts of our town there is a pond - it is out of the window of my apartment. The pond is so unremarkable, as it is possible: an asphalt track in a circle, dog lovers, runners, cyclists, wheelchair Nurse. Once there was a boat rescue station, but zero in the beginning it was dismantled on board. However, there is one more place that enjoys conditional notorious small abandoned building 40-50 meters from the circumference of the track. Many did not call him and do not pay attention to it. Some call it "Baney," perhaps it is this she once was. Plain concrete box, entrance, four rooms with windows, sticking out the remnants of cut at the root of pipe rising above the walls and floor; inside, almost immediately at the entrance, a staircase leading to a small cellar in which, apparently, was the well with auxiliary equipment or the like. I myself for my 27 years lived in some one and a half kilometers away from the building, did not find him in working condition - in this form it remains, it seems, completely unchanged for many years and decades. Sounds may be bleak, but the structure is not terrible, to the latest cracks knows every baby in the city; It was the main arena for the merrymaking in the "cops and robbers" and other war games is not for one generation, some time around him actively peyntbolisty were having fun until you got travelers and their citizens are not "asked".

There are, however, related events and phenomena, it is inexplicable, frightening, and it became obvious recently, dangerous. For example, one of these strange phenomena, which initially did not pay attention - no debris around the building. Some of our special culture Muhosrankstsy no different, and throw right under your feet or a cigarette butt in the bushes, a bottle or something else - to them completely in the order of things, the more so as such a beast as a garbage can in our area for a long time brought in a Red Book. Any debris near the Bani eventually somehow magically disappear, as if it removes a mysterious janitor, Batman, while the building itself is quite predictable srach: broken bricks, bottles, cigarette butts, the remains of some strange furniture and other stuff. Why is that? No one knows. I, too, for the time being did not know. People. Where people disappear? The reasons may be dozens, if not hundreds. Out of the house, as usual, so-and-so in what was dressed in something and then some, to the point of not got no answer. There was a man - an adult, not born yesterday - and no. Hit by a car on a deserted street, and the driver to bury the corpse in the woods or take him to a "reliable" ditch, of course, unpleasant, but sitting desyatochku want even less. The guys at chotko pelvis (often - friends of the victim) decided to have fun with a girl, and then got rid of the "clues." I leave voluntarily-forced laborer in the Caucasus until the end of life. For years, he studied profiteering battle with their own kind zadrotami, fit for someone - smashed his head with a piece of reinforcement. In the end, just I decided to run away from everything - it happens sometimes. And what a garbage can happen on drunken bench - not even utter. Now, after the incident with Alex, recalling the scene when something amazing our town, I understand that some of the loss in one way or another connected with the bath. I remember when still in high school, one patsanёnok of difficult family ran away from home and lost. History trivial nowhere shkoloty passed only among the rumor that he was going to spend the night in a dispute bath. We look for it for weeks the whole world, and, of course, the entire bath with dogs crawled up and down, but did not find any trace.

More once I lost alkotusovka of four who liked to thump on the lake after sunset. In their cries and attempts to bawl songs of our residents in the outskirts of the quiet night we were involuntarily aware of all their movements with an accuracy of ten meters. On one of these nights was a heavy downpour caught drunk in the middle of the fun. Usually in such a situation, they are more or less sober and silent sprawling home, but that night they just disappeared. In order not to produce visyakov, the guards quickly closed the case, writing on the fucking story of bathing at night in the rain, the death by drowning and a lack of bodies in relation to their getting stuck in the mud. But many say, that alkota could try to hide from the bad weather in the bath to continue drinking, and that some nonhuman heard terrified screams intruding even through the noise of the shower. Of course, none of it is not particularly missed, but bodies still not found, neither then nor later years, when major cleaning of the pond. And now Alex ... A few days ago he lost a dog. Not bad and not particularly young, but something knocked in her dog's head, and she ran into the woods. We pasted the city ads spammed VKontakte everything that is possible, the promised reward - no effect. Yesterday late at night, smoking on the balcony, he heard it. Those who at that moment could not sleep, could not hardly hear, the full horror sounds were something in between barking and squealing, the denunciation by the notorious Bani. According to the sister, Alex, do not hesitate for a second, I grabbed the first thing that came to hand (which once stood at the corner of bits), and what was Rushed there. More has not been seen. After a short time donёssya his cry and everything was quiet.

Needless to say that the next day was found absolutely nothing and no one. When the cops finished with their protsedurki and left to finish drinking beer, we have rooted up with Johnson himself nose every centimeter of Bani and the surrounding area, hoping to find at least some signs of a struggle, blood marks on the walls, anything that might give at least some hint to what happened a few hours ago. No-thing.

- Badass - repeated Johnson, a deep puff incinerate your favorite Winston up the middle. - There's something going on, Nick. Night. It looks like, but as human beings.

- Yeah, like human beings. Here you probably would have done mokruhu, would sit and wait every night when you will glance to a human being.

- Nikki, all of this and so contrary to the simplest logic. Do it so close to the city ... There is definitely worth a look. And then, personally, I just do not sleep tonight I will. I looked at the clock. Almost half of the first. The plan matured almost instantly.

The night is dark, no moon, no stars to be seen. Drizzles fine-drizzle. Johnson, following my example, barely audible clicks fuse his snipe, of course, to the "fire". Cartridges with grapeshot runaway into the chamber on the approach to the pond, there is nothing to impersonate clatter of iron. I remember at that moment I felt almost joy, leering imagining three-inch magnum smears on the wall any humanoid (or not) HEX, but what about the consequences in the event of fire, we were calm: before by the city to run so far Bane even the world champion in athletics, we will not be there. Bath is about to seem due shrubs. - Do you hear something? - Johnson listens again and pulls her head negatively. Only the sound of the wind, rustle of leaves and barely audible lapping of small waves, perhaps even a ripple on the water. Plan A. Time to separate. The plan was simple enough: to approach the house from the corner, diagonally, to hold together under the gun all the windows (wall with a door got me) on the cue to scatter on each side of the house the good old P-3K; if someone or something lomanёtsya a breakthrough - not let him go, but if not lomanёtsya - throw more fireworks inside, quickly inspect all premises through windows, and finally look to the basement, which we will rovnёhonko 60 seconds until there is a light. Given the size of the building is enough and thirty. Going to the source, I immediately removed the caps from the four Fire not to mess around with them in the future: Now simply pull the pin to get a lot of light. Expectant agreed half a minute before the conditioned signal, in case one of us hesitated in the dark. It's time.

- We have arrived! .. - I shout,

- FOR YOU! - Sounds in response to the battle cry of the Eighth Legion.

At the same moment, holding his M-500 at the ready, I light one motion just two fireworks and throw them in front of each of "their" walls. It becomes as bright as day, with the only difference being that everything around is painted in various shades of red, and the windows of the house look infinitely black failure. On the opposite side lying same red light.

- Clean!

- Clean windows!

The following fireworks fly into each of the rooms, briefly look around your part of the premises. Inside - no one and nothing unusual. The same junk, same dirty walls. Johnson apparently shines bright idea to throw more and Fire on the roof and check that there is, good with his hand sticking out of the wall a sufficient amount of any garbage on which you can quickly climb up. This daemon is placed in some 12-15 seconds, hanging on one arm and holding a shotgun to another, landing on my side at the entrance

- Clean, Nikki, basement - yours, I'll be there - Johnson gasped hurriedly, greedily gasping for air.

Prior to the "Law of the world" remains a little less than half a minute. I'm starting to feel a slight disappointment: any intelligent being, whether it be here, would not have been scored in the basement, cutting off all the escape routes. Although ... who knows? Quiet dark night - and all of a sudden a lot of light, cries, and it is easy to panic hit. Giving the last Fire in the basement. Honestly, before down there, I'd much rather threw a grenade F-1, but not the light saber, though ... it was me? A shot of a 12-gauge in place of the emphasis lay on a good gorilla, and, breaking the momentary hesitation, I quickly go down the concrete stairs down. None. The tiny and completely empty room, which was not able to hide and a cat.

Suddenly, before I reached the idiocy of the situation, and the way we looked the part. If, at this late hour, someone was watching our little special action on the part of the city outskirts, it is likely to be decided that another company alkoty, upivshis to the loss of the human form, he started a fire, call the fire department and the police at the same time. I involuntarily smiled, imagining what wondrous rumors are wandering around the town tomorrow, while we know the true situation, we quietly ussyvatsya to popular rumor and a little - with ourselves. But all this does not negate the fact that now we need to mosey - and quickly.

Climbing up, I noticed that the light was changing. Strange: those fires that were outside the building, could already begin to fade, but the ones that were inside had to burn more no less than 8-10 seconds, I definitely spent a few moments in the basement ~ and then I almost climbing the steps, the first time ever glanced at the ceiling. Ceiling ... was densely covered with dog tracks. And garbage, which until then lying on the floor. To say that I am has sent an icy wave of terror, or where I froze - it's nothing to say. I have for some time turned into a stone statue, unable to move or think. I'm not looking as if hypnotized, just looked like burns checker P-3K, quietly lying on the ceiling next to the crumpled tin of Klin and completely denies all familiar to me the laws of gravity.

I think my stupor lasted only a few seconds: just remember that it is still burning when I raced with all the dope out. Only fragmentary memories. Here I will fly from Bani. It seems I have something to scream. Johnson nowhere, the neighborhood has plunged into darkness. So I nesus away with this damn clearing. Giving a quick look on the run back - and I see stretching into the sky Shooting Stars of the dying red lights. Running, running mad. Finally, randomly ashes and a bunch of garbage, recently left shashlykanutymi. I drop by and ready to almost kiss the empty bottles, bags and wrappers from grub.

Fortunately, I had enough brains (or rather, instincts) does not throw your Moss. Home returned roundabout ways shortly before dawn, managed not to get anyone in the eye. Then ... Johnson was never seen again. It seems I have tried asking, but without achieving anything intelligible, have lagged behind. Plant whether any business - I'm not even interested. In the same year I was always out of town.

Кстати, после первых абзацев был уверен, что читаю переводную историю, и был удивлён появлению российских реалий. --Мимо проходил (обсуждение) 09:39, 3 июля 2015 (MSK)

Справедливости ради, погоняла на американский манер в 90-е были вполне в порядке вещей.

Судя по манере написания и дробовику Моссберг М500, это скорее всего тот же самый поехавший персонаж, что и в гуляющей по интернету истории про перепись населения. Поведение точно такое же - очень типичное и показательное.

Что за история такая?

ЯННП, поясните суть! Куда люди-то пропадали?