Seeing bare feet in a dream - what does it mean. Why do we see legs in a dream
As a sign - legs in a dream are a symbol of the fact that you stand firmly on your feet, the personification of support. But depending on the plot, such dreams can be interpreted in different ways. They can have a favorable and unfavorable omen, warn of trouble. Usually bare feet in a dream they see those who strive for change, literally or figuratively.
Why dream of bare feet
The main preamble of such dreams is a connection with reality. If you dreamed of such a plot, you can discard all fears - the achievement of goals is based on real facts, even when others think that you are in the clouds.
To stand firmly on arable land with bare feet - everything will work out.
Someone is standing - this person is a competitor, he can take your place not only on career ladder but also in the family. It is advisable to consider his face in more detail and immediately analyze after you wake up, who could it be?
If you had to see bare feet in a dream - no matter your own or someone else's - in the snow, you have to work a lot.
Despite the fact that this work will be productive, the results after it will help to improve the financial situation not only of the dreamer himself, but also of those around him, during the work you will have to face difficulties. The authorities will harass you with nit-picking, colleagues will put up all sorts of obstacles. Just on last step everything will be appreciated.
If he turned out to be undressed in the snow in a dream due to the fact that the shoes were stolen, in reality he will have to face a large monetary loss.
A dream about snow for someone who has begun to harden or play sports is empty. Thus, the subconscious shows that the body is ready to switch to new level life, there will be no health problems during hardening.
If in a dream you walk barefoot along the road:
Unfavorable - to a serious illness, to overcome which you will have to spend a lot of effort.
Favorable - once in the past there was a difficult situation and a person who had already gone to another world helped to get out of it very timely with these recommendations.
In the near future, the unfavorable situation is to be repeated, and the dream is sent in order to remember how to overcome difficulties:
- The leg had to be cut off, and you can see it from the side. You need to double your caution, especially on the roads or when forced to walk through dark streets. It is advisable to completely abandon nightly entertainment. The second interpretation of sleep is to illness or family conflict;
- Injuries of the lower extremities dream of losses, possible misfortunes, problems at work, an accident in which damage is caused motor vehicle. If the injury in the dream is serious, you need to talk with loved ones - they have accumulated dissatisfaction, which can lead to conflict;
- A man's dream - I had to kiss women's legs. To the loss of independence, that's just not a woman will be to blame for a change in status, but some more influential person.
If a woman kisses her bare feet in a dream, then she will soon marry, and matriarchy will be the way of the family.
These are the events that legs portend if you see a plot with them in a dream.
And how do famous dreamers decipher such dreams?
Bare feet according to dream books
Bare feet in Miller's dream book is a warning to take decisive action.
A man dreams about women's legs as a warning about a frivolous act.
For a woman to admire her lower limbs - to break with her loved one.
According to the Wanderer's dream book, walking barefoot - to poverty. Medium Hasse considers - if he had a dream similar plot, then you will definitely get a plot of land, an apartment - not a one-room apartment, a castle ...
One of the most famous researchers of dreams and the vagaries of the subconscious, Sigmund Freud, believes that sleeping with bare feet tells that in intimate life not used to be shy, there are no complexes. With a partner, the relationship is harmonious, there is always the possibility of consensus.
Half an hour flew by very quickly, and a pretty tired smiling face appeared on the threshold of the room. Robert squeezed the girl's hand and whispered, "Goodbye, honey, make it easy for you to get through this." Nicole was barely holding back her tears when he left the room and she was left alone with the soldiers. This time they did not put handcuffs on her, but simply took her along the same corridor to the room next to the exit. "Apparently, this is the usual route for those sentenced to death," the journalist thought. A woman was sitting at a table in a room. military uniform. After Nicole was brought into the room, she ordered the escorts to leave, and the smiling one obeyed with great reluctance.
Take off your clothes,” the woman said in English when they were alone. Nicole complied implicitly, expecting to be given special clothing. Left in one underwear and shoes, she neatly folded her clothes in a pile on the table.
This, too, - she pointed to the shoes. "Well, yes, it must be comical, I will look on the gallows in a robe and shoes," the girl grinned, feeling the coolness of the stone floor with her bare feet.
And this, - the woman's finger moved from her bra to her panties.
Undress completely.
Being completely naked, Nicole felt uncomfortable. Mechanically, she covered her breasts and bosom with her hands, but noticing the smirk of the jailer, she lowered her hands. The girl first put her panties and bra on a pile, but then, after thinking, she put them under her clothes. A terrible thought crept into my head: "Do they really want to hang me naked. But there are people there. No, this is impossible." However, the jailer quickly dispelled the girl's fears. From a cupboard in the corner, she took a bundle and unpacked it. There were only two things in the package. A piece of light-coloured canvas and what looked like diapers.
What's this? - Asked Nicole, cautiously pointing to the diaper.
The girl blushed and began to put on a diaper. It seemed to her that there was something humiliating in all this. The piece of cloth turned out to be a long cloak or robe with a hood at the back. The cloak turned out to be quite spacious, and at the bottom it reached almost to the ankles. Rough fabric slightly irritated delicate skin. In the meantime, the woman took out from the drawer a board with hieroglyphs on a string and a piece of rope.
It says here what you will be executed for, - she explained, putting on the tablet so that it was on Nicole's chest. The jailer completed the cooking procedure by tying the girl's hands behind her back with a piece of nylon rope. She did it very cleverly. The wrists were tied tightly, but not tight, and the knots did not hurt.
What about shoes? Nicole asked as the woman stepped back to admire her work.
We hang barefoot, - followed by a laconic answer. Lowering her eyes, the girl looked at her neat bare feet and wiggled her fingers. "But what's the difference - I still won't have time to catch a cold." At this time, an unusually tall for a Chinese and strong man in a black uniform without insignia entered the room ... "My executioner," Nicole guessed. The jailer nodded to him, and the man took the girl by the elbow with a gesture and ordered to go with him. A convoy was waiting for them in the corridor. The dear journalist they knew was taken to the yard, where this time an open truck with inscriptions on the sides was waiting for them. The soldiers lifted Nicole and put her in the back. She was seated alone on a bench near the cockpit, and the soldiers sat down at the sides. Nicole's shop was a little taller than the others, so her face and tablet should have been clearly visible from the street. From the corner next to the shop, something covered with a tarpaulin stretched along the side. The car started and drove out the gate. Earned a loudspeaker in the cab. The same phrases were uttered from it in Chinese. On the streets, almost all people paid attention to the truck, many pointed to Nicole with their hands.
At one of the intersections, a European with a satisfied face took several pictures of her. To avoid prying eyes, the girl lowered her eyes and began to examine her bare feet. A strange comparison came into her head: “I’m just like Hugo’s Esmeralda, who was taken to repentance. Also in front of everyone, also barefoot. And I’ll end up like her in a noose.” At one of the intersections, the car turned sharply, and something drove out from under the tarp at Nicole's feet. To her horror, it was a coil of rope with a loop at the end. The girl instinctively moved away, but as if spellbound, she continued to look at the instrument of her death. The hemp rope was not as thick as it seemed to her, 3-4 centimeters in diameter, the knot was similar to those shown in films about the Wild West, but did not look so massive. “I wonder what she feels like,” the journalist thought, and was immediately horrified by her thought. However, curiosity turned out to be stronger, and extending her leg, Nicole slowly ran her thumb along the inner surface of the loop. The rope turned out to be hard and rough, and again, frightened, the girl pushed the skein back under the tarpaulin. Meanwhile, the car drove into the square. The approaches to it were cordoned off, and she herself was already packed almost to capacity. A crowd of thousands greeted the appearance of the truck with a lingering rumble. Two lines of soldiers formed a passage in this sea of people, through which they slowly rode. People standing at the aisle shouted something at Nicole and waved homemade banners. Among them, the girl saw a couple of pieces written in English. "Death to drug dealers" was written on one of them, "Drug dealers to the gallows" read the other.
Nicole did her best not to show the panic horror that seized her and calmly look straight ahead. She was afraid not so much of her own execution as of this angry mob, ready to tear her to shreds. Finally, the journey through the sea of people stopped, and the car drove into a fenced empty area intended for execution ....
Sitting with her back to the cab, Nicole could not see where they were going and saw the gallows only when the car drove under her. The car had stopped right below her, and now the gallows were almost above her head. The device was extremely simple, two massive square wooden pillars somehow fortified in the ground at a distance of three meters from each other, and on top of them at a height of five meters there was an equally massive round crossbar. While she was empty, but the executioner had already pulled back the tarpaulin and took the rope. In addition to it, under the tarpaulin, there was also a thick wide board, almost three meters long. Her appointment was still incomprehensible to the girl. Meanwhile, the executioner deftly threw the rope over the crossbar. This move was greeted with cheers from the crowd. Looking around and looking at Nicole, the executioner lowered the noose a little, and tied the other end of the rope securely to the right post.
"It's terrible that they make me look at all these preparations," the girl thought, looking at the dangling noose.
“It’s good that they didn’t tie her up in front of my eyes.” The executioner shouted something to the driver, and the car moved a little further, completely driving out from under the crossbar. After that, the soldiers took the board and pushed it out of the body towards the gallows by two thirds, so that its end turned out to be just the floor of the crossbar. Two of them stood on the end of the board lying in the back, holding it in horizontal position with its weight.
The executioner approached Nicole, forced her to get up, led her to the edge of the body near the board, and he himself stood a little behind. On the other side, a smiling officer approached the edge, unrolling some paper as he went. Now the girl was in full view of the entire square, and the crowd greeted this with another joyful roar. Smiling through the loudspeaker, he began to read in Chinese, apparently, announcing the verdict ... Nicole did not take her eyes off the noose hanging in anticipation of her neck. "That means how they do it," - journalistic interest did not fade away in her.
- "They will put me on the edge of the board, throw a noose, and then the executioner will push me. Something like a pirate walking on the board. And I have to rest and resist for their pleasure. No, I won’t give them such joy. As soon as he touches to push me, I'll jump myself." The officer finished reading, and last phrase drowned in a storm of applause. The executioner took Nicole by the shoulders and directed her to the board. Feeling a growing trembling in her whole body, the girl carefully, as if afraid of getting burned, stepped on her. The executioner stood behind her and, still squeezing her shoulders, began to push her forward. The roar of the crowd now did not stop, but only gradually increased with each step she took. Desperately trying to maintain her composure, the deathly pale Nicole moved slowly towards her death. She stopped almost at the very edge of the board, when the rope was only a few centimeters away. The noose swayed slightly in the wind somewhere at the level of her chest, closing the plank. Apparently, therefore, the executioner pushed the noose wider, so that its lower edge rose to the girl's chin.
Now she looked at the world through her round rope window. "Here is the hangman's outlook," the journalist mentally continued her article again, "which gradually narrows to the size of the neck." At this time, the executioner, kneeling, moved her feet to the end of the board, so that thumbs were on the line of the edge, and, slightly raising the cloak, tied the legs at the ankles with a nylon rope. Then the executioner abruptly threw a hood over her head. The screams reached a peak, and suddenly plunged into darkness, Nicole flinched in surprise. A narrow strip of light penetrated only through a small gap at the bottom, where the front edge of the hood did not fit snugly against the chest. However, through it, only a plank and the toes of their bare feet brought together were visible. The executioner began to put the noose on the girl. She shuddered again as the rope settled around her shoulders, and again as the knot tightened at the back of her head. “And everyone says that behind the left ear,” Nicole was surprised. The rope was tightened so that it was completely adjacent to the girl's neck, but did not squeeze her. In addition, the loop captured the free edge of the hood, and Nicole was in complete darkness. It was hot and stuffy under her hood from her own breath. The hum and screams now grew into a rhythmic chant. All sorts of terrible thoughts and conjectures swirled randomly in my head: “But what if the rope breaks, it happens. Will they have mercy on me? Or will I hang again? But I can no longer go this terrible path along the board.” With surprise, the girl heard the receding steps of the executioner, he seemed to be returning to the body. She did not understand what was happening and why he had returned. The pause dragged on.
Nicole mastered panic fear mixed with strange excitement. The air under the hood became hot, from uneven rapid breathing, the chest convulsively rose and fell, slightly tossing the plank, but it seemed to the girl that she was jumping a good half a meter. The chanting intensified. Nicole's legs trembled slightly under the cloak, her knees buckled by themselves, and her bare toes nervously crawled along the edge of the board. She had previously experienced such a state only during intimacy with desired men. She herself did not feel how her nipples swelled and hardened. The girl was in a state close to insanity and felt that she was about to lose her senses. Consciousness was drilled by a single thought: "Well, when, finally." At this time, the executioner, who returned to the body, after a pause, gave a sign to the soldiers and they simultaneously left the edge of the board, and she, having lost her counterweight, fell to the ground with a thud. For Nicole, who was expecting the executioner's return, this was a complete surprise.
Losing ground under her feet and unconsciously trying to grab the edge of the board with her fingers, she jerked down and hung on the taut rope. The noose instantly squeezed the neck, completely blocking the airways. Hot tears spilled from her wide-open eyes, and she screamed wildly. However, only a terrible wheezing and gurgling, muffled by the hood, broke through. The next 45 seconds, during which the hanged Nicole was conscious, seemed to her like an eternity of pain and suffering. And the last conscious feeling was a burning shame when she realized that she had completely lost control of her organs. And the crowd, which stopped chanting, watched with bated breath how the young strong body. They could not see how the dilated watery eyes gradually crawled out of their sockets, how the swollen tongue tore out through clenched teeth, how streams of hot saliva poured from the mouth, how the once beautiful face turned blue and dark, now distorted by terrible grimaces of torment. The spacious cloak hid from them the bizarre curves of the body writhing in the noose. All they saw was the powerful rhythmic but erratic jerks of the girl hanging on the rope. Those who were standing could notice how the fingers on the arched feet were simultaneously tightened and unbent, and from the body it was visible how the bound hands either clenched into fists, then spread their fingers.
It is unlikely that anyone could say for sure how long this spectacle, which seemed to bewitching everyone, lasted. However, the jerks gradually subsided, and soon the body of the hanged woman, with her head hanging helplessly on her chest, hung lifelessly, swaying only by inertia. Again, the square shook with a joyful exclamation. However, it was premature. Both the executioner and those standing near the fence could notice that the girl was still alive by small convulsive tremors of her body. The cloak almost completely hid these barely noticeable movements, it was only visible how the big toes of the bare feet stretched down were raised slightly from time to time. This went on for a few more minutes, and then Nicole's body last time tensed, convulsively arched, and calmed down forever. When the hanged woman stopped swinging, the car drove up to the gallows, and the executioner, who also acted as a doctor, put his hand under his cloak, witnessed death. The girl's left breast was still warm and soft, but there was no more heartbeat. After that, the car left the square, and the people, after standing a little longer, also began to disperse. The gallows with the executed Nicole stood until the evening, and those who could not get into the execution itself came to admire at least its results. They made their way closer and for a long time intently examined the hanged woman with a tablet on her chest. When it got dark, access to the square was blocked. A covered car drove up to the gallows, the rope was cut, the girl's body was loaded inside and taken to a special department of the morgue. There, the attendants untied a piece of rope, despite the layer of hood leaving a deep purple mark around the neck. Then they took off the cloak and the rather heavy diaper from the body and burned them. The naked corpse was washed, wrapped in a sheet and put in a refrigerator until the arrival of persons from the embassy with a coffin. During the whole procedure, everyone tried not to look at Nicole's face....
Quite often, dreams are prophetic, but, unfortunately, not all of them portend good news. If a person dreamed of bare feet, in the future he will face ruin, financial collapse, or any material problems that will be very difficult to solve.
What if you dream of bare feet?
Bare feet are considered a symbol of poverty and misery. If a person sees them in a dream, this is an unkind sign.
A vision in which the sleeper observes bare feet is a harbinger of major losses, financial losses. This may be due to ruin, as well as the loss of a good position.
If a person is faced with a choice of whether he should enter into some kind of contract or deal, but at the same time he dreams of bare feet, in no case should he sign an agreement. This deal will only bring ruin.
Highly bad sign it is considered if a person sees his own bare feet in a dream. This vision means that real life the sleeper is in for serious troubles related to finances.
A dream in which a person does not feel his legs or is in limbo, not feeling the ground under his feet, is also a bad omen. It means that in real life the sleeper will lose support and support from loved ones. Without outside help he can't get what he wants.
A very bad vision is a dream in which a person sees himself barefoot, but at the same time one-legged. He portends complete ruin or even loss of a very loved one- your other half. Also, such a vision can be a harbinger of disappointment and betrayal.
Feet are also considered a symbol of a long journey. If a person dreams of bare feet, then perhaps in the near future some kind of trip awaits him, or he will simply move to another apartment or even to another city. But at the same time, the trip or relocation will not be successful.
A vision in which a person sees himself with bare and very dirty feet is considered very bad. Such a dream portends shame, public censure. Such a vision is very unfavorable for a young girl. It means that soon those around her will begin to reproach her for frivolity, there will be a lot of talk and gossip around her. In order to prevent such a development of events, you need to behave more modestly. You should not change partners too often and be illegible in choosing partners. Otherwise, such behavior will turn against her.
Seeing scratched bare feet in a dream is a tarnished reputation, which will be very difficult to fix.
What portends?
If a woman sees herself in a dream with bare and hairy legs, in reality she will command her husband. If a similar dream a man sees - in real life he will face a financial loss, but a little later he will be able to analyze his own mistakes and correct the situation.
If a person dreams that he is walking barefoot on the water, this means that in reality his reputation will be tarnished. But such a vision can be interpreted in another way. Some sleep experts believe that bare feet in the water can be a harbinger of imminent illness. Most likely, a person is waiting for a disease of the musculoskeletal system.
If a person dreams that he is standing barefoot, and someone is stroking and kissing his feet, public recognition awaits him in reality. When a man sees in a dream how he kisses the feet of some woman, this may mean that in real life he will begin to show sexual interest in relation to someone, but at the same time lose his vigilance. Perhaps he already has similar feelings towards a certain woman, but is afraid to admit it to himself.
A dream in which a person sees bare feet cannot be called favorable. But most dream interpreters believe that similar visions can be seen as a warning that will not allow a person to make a mistake.
Sun, 28 Jul 2013 21:16:49 +0400
And what a thrill, I feel good about this, if in the pictures, on the beach, if a girl with bare legs is sitting!
Wed, 12 Sep 2012 09:21:20 +0400
I love barefoot young girls
it's beautiful... cute girl's foot... would lick right!
Mon, 13 Aug 2012 20:05:33 +0400
It's just not aesthetically pleasing, I don't like it. "I hate" is a strong word.
Sat, 21 Jul 2012 04:01:00 +0400
I love barefoot young girls
Because by walking barefoot, these girls show their love for mother nature and healthy lifestyle life. Walking barefoot, young girls look very pretty. How beautiful the moderately smooth feet of young girls look (alas, not all girls have such), slightly polluted with sand!
Thu, 10 Nov 2011 11:31:11 +0400
I love barefoot young girls
I love it when a girl is barefoot! Also excite girls in slates, especially with jeans! When girls go barefoot or in flip flops for a long time, their heels get a little rough. And if such a girl walks in shales, then they are awesome slap on the heels! It seems to me that many girls themselves like to show off their slightly hard, hardened heels!!)
Mon, 07 Nov 2011 21:29:37 +0400
I hate barefoot young girls
Because when you walk barefoot, your feet get dirty and the skin on them becomes hard and rough: (And just do the stilettos look much sexier :)
Sat, 18 Dec 2010 21:44:24 +0300
I love barefoot young girls
I love barefoot girls! There is nothing more beautiful than them! And walking barefoot is good for your health! This is acupressure for everyone internal organs, barefoot people never have a fungus, and barefoot walking is one of the main energy practices! When walking barefoot, spiritual and mental work is enhanced! Looking for a barefoot girl 18-25 years old. I myself constantly go barefoot, including in winter, in the forest, in the city ... 89168702026.
Sat, 18 Dec 2010 21:36:41 +0300
I love barefoot young girls
Well, if you don’t run barefoot on snow and ice, but along the beach, the sand is hot from the sun, then I like it and it’s very sexy.
Wed, 15 Dec 2010 16:28:07 +0300
I hate barefoot young girls
I'm not Tarantino, you know.
Sun, 20 Jun 2010 02:45:09 +0400
I love barefoot young girls
It's very sexy when a girl is barefoot. Bare female legs, when a girl is in clothes, and not in a bathing suit - this is already a hint of eroticism, as if a prelude. Lovers of breasts and buttocks have much less opportunities to contemplate their fetishes in real life. And for lovers of bare feet - in the summer just in bulk. I agree with many authors - it even lifts the mood. One comrade wrote here that when he matured and girlfriends appeared, he realized that you couldn’t do anything special with women’s legs (kiss, stroke). And tickle?! It is incredibly charming and exciting when you tickle a girl by the legs, and she laughs delightfully and tries to escape. This is already a hint of dominance. And when in general at the same time he begs and asks for mercy, then you can finish without sex. It is best to tie a girl for the effect of complete dominance. In general, I agree with all my colleagues 100%, and those who wrote opposite are simply backward people. Thank God that he created women the way they are - with beautiful legs!
Tue, Jan 12, 2010 07:21:10 PM +0300
I love barefoot young girls
If the girl's feet are beautiful, narrow and with even fingers in height, then they really like it. Especially in open stiletto heels. Erotic no less than naked breasts.
Fri, 25 Dec 2009 22:08:56 +0300
I love barefoot young girls
at least it's cute
Thu, 24 Dec 2009 23:21:46 +0300
I love barefoot young girls
Personally, I just love barefoot girls. There is nothing sexier than bare female legs. You're on the bus on business. Tense, thoughtful. And ahead in the next row is a beautiful young girl, in a skirt, with tanned legs, in shoes on bare foot. After a while, she suddenly takes off her shoes and shows her lovely tanned feet, marvelous well-groomed fingers with a neat pedicure, soles with such light delicate skin. If it is very hot, the legs gleam with sweat. The girl just moves her fingers, and life is already getting better. Here she put her legs under the seat and your eyes are presented to her coveted soles, slightly yellowish from sweat and dust. You can even see the grains of sand that hastened to stick to the soft smooth skin. Uhhh! And life is getting better! Girls! Down with tights and stockings! Make our life brighter! We love your bare feet!!!
Thu, 29 Oct 2009 15:51:41 +0300
I love barefoot young girls
SPECIALLY REGISTERED!!! Why do I love? .. Very beautiful, sexy ..... O-B-O-Zh-A-Yu)))) How I want such idiots as those who pressed "against" to be wiped off the face of the Earth !)) *defiantly turned away*
Sat, 29 Aug 2009 21:32:30 +0400
I love barefoot young girls
1) it is sexually attractive (foot-fetish) 2) the girl loves herself, since she allows herself such non-standard actions 3) the girl is healthy, because she is not afraid to catch a cold 4) the girl is closer to nature and, perhaps, her inner world more harmonious 5) the girl’s mind is not clogged with stereotypes
Sat, 15 Aug 2009 20:39:51 +0400
I love barefoot young girls
I love to look at beautiful female legs. In general, I think that girls should bare their legs. And I also like if a girl likes to walk barefoot))
Sat, 23 Aug 2008 17:58:05 +0400
I love barefoot young girls
There is nothing better than looking at the tender pink heels and fingers of young girls, they are simply divine, when I look at them my mood just improves!
Wed, 30 Apr 2008 01:36:30 +0400
I love barefoot young girls
Well, I myself like to walk barefoot. But the question is where, when to do it. I agree with those who are against walking barefoot around the city, along dirty streets, you can get hurt and get infected. I don’t do it also because that I disdain walking through such mud and will not offend my well-groomed, beautiful heels. But walking barefoot at home, in nature is a completely different matter! carpet, in nature, grass, sometimes soft and cold, with dew that has not yet dried up, and sometimes, already warmed up in the sun, warm and rough, pleasantly tickling the heels ... And the sandy beach! All this is an indescribable feeling! Something like touching with your hands blindfolded unknown objects is also an anticipation of what will happen this time. The same touch. You need to try it yourself to find out what it is. in clubs, of course. There is a sensual moment in all this.
Fri, 04 Apr 2008 17:04:01 +0400
I love barefoot young girls
A barefoot girl is very beautiful, I even think it's sexy. This makes girls more attractive. Perhaps the legs are the most erotic part of the female body. And when it's warm outside, why not go barefoot? And if you also wear short pants, such as capri pants - mmmmmmmmmmmmmm ... In general, I'm all for it!
I love barefoot young girls
They are more open to the world and look at the world wide open eyes, not being afraid to seem strange ("dark people"). And what's strange about it is that it's so natural, pleasant and useful. In addition, it is very beautiful. I would love to keep such a girl company, because she gets joy even from such simple things. By the way, on the topic of infa on Wikipedia there is an amusing one, type in "Walking barefoot" - it is written about history, benefits and health there. (which has already been mentioned above).
Bare feet slipped on the cobblestones of the pavement. When the darkness wakes up, the dogs start to panic. Bloody footprints stretch along a dark alley with no streetlights. The dogs bark as if warning each other of danger. Somewhere far on the horizon in cozy houses the light is on. But these houses are so inaccessible in the darkness of the night, when you walk along a deserted street, exhausted from pain. Their light is similar to the fires of St. Elmo, inviting into the quagmire in the swamps. The moon floats across the sky, casting white reflections on the water surface of the channel. A heavy breath escapes from the mouth in the form of steam, it flies away to where the stars twinkle to connect with their crystal surface and shine indifferently high in the sky. An emaciated man, limping and stumbling, made his way to an old but majestic mansion, rising among wretched dilapidated shacks, long outdated. Only this mansion, once luxurious, now dilapidated, showed signs of life in the form of a single, dimly lit window. In the rest of the houses on this street, empty windows yawned black, dampness and the stench of decay wafted from them. The man stopped under the luminous window and glared at him, frozen like a statue.
Maria lit the candles and set the table. The electricity in their house was turned off a week ago, but they steadfastly endured the hardships. The area they lived in was long abandoned and the government gradually turned a blind eye to it. Maria and her husband were the only inhabitants of this outskirts, inhabited exclusively by ghosts and stray animals. The couple did not want to leave the house, in which several generations of Mary's ancestors had changed. There was no money for repairs, and the government offered them some kind of miserable apartment in a gangster quarter instead of a house that keeps a centuries-old memory. Skinny moving shadows that look like ugly creatures from the most scary tales licked the shabby wallpaper of the dining room of the mansion. Maria sat with her hands folded in her lap, listening to the ticking of the clock. Her husband was due to return soon. Without him, the house was creepy. Creaks and rustles filled the mansion. Someone whispered, someone moaned, someone cried. Invisible ghosts roamed the house, blowing their cold breath over the skin. But Mary was not afraid of the dead. The living are much scarier, her grandmother once told her. And of the living in this quarter were only she and her husband, who had not yet returned. If she had looked out the window, her gaze would have met the gaze of the one who stood motionless for several hours under her window, peering through the glass into her very soul. But she was lost in her own thoughts. She thought about the child she would have. She had not yet told her husband about it, and it was already the second month. A sudden knock on the door made her jump. This knock was more like scratching and was the most ominous sound ever heard in this mansion. Maria hurried to the door. The scratching didn't stop until she scaredly asked, "Who's there?" Then everything was silent. She asked again, and again received no answer. Fear crept under her ribs and tickled her from the inside. She turned and walked back into the dining room. The scratching resumed. My head immediately filled with terrible guesses, one more terrible than the other. Maria gathered her will into a fist and went close to the door. "Who you are?" she asked in a trembling whisper, "What do you want?" Her only response was scratching. She pressed her cheek against the door. She felt that the door was scratched at the level of her face, so it could not be a dog, so a person was standing behind the door (is it a person?). She tried to imagine a neatly dressed gentleman silently scratching at her door, but for some reason it wasn't funny. Her mind, stunned with fear, drew terrible images before her eyes, but for some reason this did not stop her curiosity, which did not allow her to move away from the door. Her shoulders shuddered every time there was a terrible scraping, but a trembling hand of its own accord lay on the doorknob. The other hand, also trembling, reached for the bolt. The door creaked softly, and a thin triangle of light burst out into the street. Maria looked out the door. A young man in bloody clothes stood in the doorway. "Help me," he whispered so softly that Maria read it on his lips rather than heard it. Fear immediately receded, compassion and relief came in its place. "Oh my God, let's go inside the house, sir, I'll help you," she put her arm around the guy's shoulders and led him into the living room. He was in a semi-conscious state and could hardly stand on his feet. Maria sat the wounded man in a chair, ran for a rag and a basin of water. "What happened to you?" she asked, gently washing the blood off the stranger's face. The guy did not answer, his eyes rolled back, and he fell asleep. Maria carefully examined him and left the room. Perhaps the reason for her inattention was amazement or experienced fright, but she did not notice that there were no wounds from which all this blood that covered the guy's body could flow.
Outside the window, dogs barked and hurried footsteps pounded. Mary's husband returned. He entered open door and began to call his wife anxiously. Maria ran out into the corridor and put her finger to her lips. She explained in a whisper: "There is a wounded man in the house. He is sleeping," and led her bewildered husband to the kitchen.
The floor under bare feet was cold. The man stopped at the old clock and watched the pendulum for a long time. Then he was distracted by muffled voices in the kitchen. The man walked towards the sound like a blind man, running his hands over all the objects he met, staining them with blood. He walked slowly and his steps rustled like curtains blown by the wind. He stopped at the threshold of the kitchen and stared.
Husband and wife were sitting at the table and talking quietly. Maria did not dare to tell him about the child. Their situation was disastrous, in such conditions it was impossible to raise children, but they also did not want to leave. Your husband will probably want to sell the house. The wind howled outside the windows, the dogs answered him with a long bark. The flames of the candles swayed in fright, causing sinister silhouettes to dance along the walls. Maria wanted to look her husband in the eyes and, finally, betray her secret, but she saw completely different eyes in front of her. He stood behind her husband, right on the threshold. He was motionless, and his gaze was fixed on her. This look was so fixed that it seemed to suck the soul into itself, Maria froze. She couldn't move. She was shackled by fear, fear for the unborn child, for what was inside her. The man stood motionless, but at the same time seemed to be approaching. It was like he took a step every time she blinked. Maria wanted to move, wanted to scream, wanted to grab and squeeze her husband's hand, which lay so close to her own palm.
He was already very close. He almost came close to her husband, who at that time looked up from his plate. "What's the matter with you? You're so pale..." The fork he held in his hand a second ago was now sticking out of his throat. The strange man who had scratched at her door was now standing over her husband and watching the trickles of blood running down the neck of the father of her unborn child. A muffled scream escaped Maria's lungs as she rose heavily from her chair and clutched the edge of the table with her hands. Nausea crept up her throat. Outside the window the wind howled, the candles played uneasily with shadows, the blood seemed black in the semi-darkness. The man froze, as if someone had taken a picture of him. He looked like wax figure, scary inhuman inanimate face. Maria screamed again. The man took the fork from her husband's neck and plunged it into his cheek. The fork stuck with an unpleasant crunch, causing Maria to close her eyes. Tears slowly rolled down from his eyes. They were hot, warming and soothing. Mary was away. A veil of mist hid the bloody spectacle from her. The girl sank to the floor. And the man at that time tore her husband's mouth. The flesh crunched in his hands, the man looked like a doll, but meanwhile, he was still alive. The stranger made a huge hole out of her husband's mouth, like a lion's mouth. The man licked his lips over his creation and stuck his head into it. Chomping sounds were heard as if from a neighboring world, Maria barely turned her head in that direction, and then suddenly woke up. She feared for the child. She crept cautiously towards the door, but her sobs were too loud to go unnoticed. The man's bloodied head turned in her. He tossed aside the corpse (or almost corpse) of her husband and froze, aiming his gaze at her. Once again Maria couldn't move. Something tenacious held her, pulled her towards this strange person with a bloodied face. "Child!" - a saving thought fired like a flare. Maria got to her feet and took to flight. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her. He was in no hurry, but limped weakly. The escape door to the outside was close. Maria already grabbed the handle, freedom was in her hand. Turn and open. On the street, the wind lifted into the air and circled all kinds of garbage. Chip bags waltzed under the stars. Maria ran out of the house at the speed of a cannonball. "Saved!" - sounded in her head, - "Saved! Saved! Saved!".
She stood at front door at home and listened to a strange scratching. One of her hands rested on the doorknob, the other on the bolt. "No, I won't open it for him!" She made her way back to the dining room. Outside, the wind howled. The clock was ticking in the house. Someone scratched at the door. Ugly shadows merged with the pattern on the wallpaper. Maria cried. The door creaked softly. "No, please don't!" she shook her head. "You can't do it, don't do it!" He came closer. A little boy with a bloodied face. He looked like his father, like her husband. "Please," Maria moaned. His face pressed against her stomach. She felt the pulse of life leaving her. "No no!" - despair tore her from the inside, tore apart the insides. He sucked her baby. The chugging sounds merged with the howl of the wind. The dogs barked piteously, as if apologizing for not being able to help. When Maria lost consciousness, the boy straightened up. He licked his blood-stained lips and left the house.
Maria's husband will return later than usual that night. No one will open the door for him, so he will have to use his own key. He will think that Maria has fallen asleep when he finds her lying on the sofa in the dining room. And then he notices the blood. "Miscarriage," the doctors would later say.
