A gift of the old baron. Scary short story

One boy went for a walk with a friend.

They decided to go to the ruins that were left of the old fortress. It was said that the spirit of the old baron could be seen there. And it was also said that sometimes ancient coins can be found there.

But even if there was nothing there, it was still interesting to play in the ruins. There were plenty of hiding places here. They could play the defenders of the fortress. Or they could pretend to be hiding here from the old baron, about whom people said that he killed children, boiled their skin, and then made books out of it. And people also said that the baron cut off the hands of his captives and hung them to dry like clothes on a rope.

"Let's look for coins first," said the boy's friend, "the older children in the yard said that most of them are where the fallen leaves gather."

Indeed, the wind constantly swept the leaves from the trees that grew nearby into the ruins, and these leaves themselves gathered in large piles in the corners.

The boys began to rake up the old leaves, but under them there was only earth and stones. They didn't find a single coin. However they found an old rusty chain. One end of the chain was built right into the wall, and when they began to pull the chain, the wall suddenly moved, and they saw steps going down.

"Wow!" exclaimed the boy's friend, "look, this is a secret passage! There might be a treasure hidden there!"

Pushing each other, they climbed inside.

It was dark inside and smelled of damp earth. They went down to the very end of the stairs.

"Do you see anything?" the friend asked.

"No," the boy answered, but then he remembered that he had a box of matches in his pocket, "wait, I'll light a match."

He took out matches and lit one. And they immediately screamed, because in the light of a burning match they saw a skeleton sitting in an iron chair.

"Who is this? Old baron?" the friend asked.

The match went out and the boy lit another one. They came closer and saw that the neck, arms and legs of the dead man were held by clamps of white metal, which shone like new in the light of the fire, although the iron chair was all rusted from time.

"Grandmother told me," the boy said, "that the old baron was a ghoul and they could only kill him with a silver arrow, and to keep him from crawling out of the grave, his hands and feet were nailed to the coffin with silver nails".

"I also heard this story," answered a friend, "but this one is not lying in a coffin, instead he is sitting in an armchair."

The second match went out. The boy lit another one.

But while he was lighting, something rustled in the darkness, and when the match flared up, they saw that the iron chair with the dead man seemed to be closer.

"We must get out of here," the boy said, "what if he really is a ghoul."

"Look," said a friend and pointed to the ground.

The boy looked and saw that there were many bones on the ground. And they were all the bones of the hands - many different hands, large and small. And there were more than just bones. Some of the severed hands are well preserved, as if they were cut off quite recently.

The boy suddenly became afraid. It seemed to him that the dead man was looking at them, waiting for the lights to go out. Therefore, the boy did not wait until the match went out, and immediately lit a new one.

"Let's get out of here," the boy said, "I don't like it here."

"Wait," the friend said suddenly.

He bent down, picked up something from the ground and walked to the exit. The boy ran after him until the match went out.

When they got out, it seemed to them that someone was laughing loudly downstairs. Or maybe it was just the wind rustling with old leaves.

Then the boy saw that a friend was holding something in his hands.

"What do you have?"

The friend hid his hand behind his back. But then he answered anyway:

"A gift from the old baron."

As they returned home, the boy saw a ring with a large dark red stone on his friend's hand.

"Did you take it from there?" he asked a friend.

"Yes," said a friend, "what is it to you?"

The boy shook his head.

"Grandmother said that you can not take things from the grave, otherwise the owner may return for them."

"Your grandmother does not understand anything..." answered a friend.

But the next day, a friend came early in the morning himself. His face was frightened.

"Last night I had a dream," he said, "as if the old baron had returned and wanted to take his gift. I could not remove the ring from my hand and then the baron wanted to cut off my hand ... Then I woke up. But when I wanted to take off the ring, I could not. Help me take it off."

The boy's friend's finger was swollen and the ring could not be removed. They tried oiling their finger, but still they couldn't remove the ring. Then the boy took out the wire cutters and bit the ring.

The friend wanted to throw away the ring, but the boy said:

"We have to put it back. That's what the grandmother said."

They ran to the ruins, but no matter how much they searched, they could not find the place where the old baron's grave was.

So they decided to leave the ring in the ruins. And when a friend took the ring out of his pocket, they saw that the ring was whole again. They put the ring on the ground and covered it with leaves so that other boys would not accidentally find it.

But when the boy returned home, his friend called him.

"It is here."


"The ring," friend answered and wept, "when I returned home, it was in my pocket. I'm scared... At night the baron will come for him and cut off my hand... What should I do?"

"We must deceive the old baron," said the boy, "as they do in fairy tales. Take your old things, stuff them with straw and put the ring inside. And then take this doll and take it somewhere far away. And tomorrow my grandmother will come to visit us, and I will ask her what to do."

"All right," said the friend, "I will do so."

In the morning the boy immediately ran to his friend's house. He decided that it would be better to let a friend come to visit him and when his grandmother arrives, they will ask together what they should do.

But when he approached a friend's house, the boy realized that he was late. Near the house were a police car and an ambulance.

And around the house stood people.

"What happened there?" the boy asked one of the adults.

"The boy is dead. Someone climbed in through the window and strangled him..."

"Probably a madman," another adult said, "he was dressed like a scarecrow, and straw was sticking out of his clothes ..."

"And the ring?" the boy asked, "that boy had a ring with a red stone on his hand?.."

"What ring?" the adult was surprised, "this madman cut off the boy's both hands to the very elbows and took them with him..."

A gift of the old baron. Scary short story
Illustration: Frost7q

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