Three cemetery stories

The editors of Samizdat publishes deciphering the best podcasts of the Glagolev FM radio. We deciphered the Penantent Head podcast, which is conducted by a former criminal reporter, and now the private detective Vadim Golovin. This time he tells three stories about cemeteries: how to draw a live broadcast from the crypt, why should not go between the graves at night and whom the afterlife excites.

Hello, a talking head is with you, and I am her cheerful host, Vadim Golovin, a former criminal reporter, and now a private detective. And today I have a portion of selected cemeteries for you. Let's go!

I was in cemeteries strictly for official necessity, namely for the shooting of reports. What can I say, in a sense, I even worked in the cemetery. More precisely, in the places of former cemeteries. The fact is that the Ostankino television center was built at the site of the ancient burial. This is a historical fact. The same conversations go about the Leningrad television center. A rather strange coincidence, yes, isn't it? Then the approach to construction in general was another, not like now: anywhere they did not build, including television centers. I don’t know, maybe GOSTERDOLEDIO was trying to broadcast in the afterlife, or maybe it is always better in the cemetery. We will not recognize this. I found another period of time when a continuous chernukha and all sorts of other scandals, intrigues, and investigations were shown on the box.

The first story, about the air from the crypt

After many years of work in criminal news, my dream came true: I opened my own program. It was such a short chronicle of city accidents. Since I was the leader of the program, I was supposed to be on the planurs. I remember how for the first time I was at a meeting with the participation of the director of the television channel, editor -in -chief, shareholders and the like persons, whom ordinary employees often do not know. We are sitting, therefore, at a round table, all with important persons, they look at me, here the editor -in -chief (by the way, was a man, from among the old reporter Guard), begins the planier: “And I propose to start,” he says, “this is a young man. Meet who does not know: he leads our new criminal program and will now tell you about what we will show to the audience interesting today. ” I began to mumble something: “Today we will have two accidents on the air, three fires ...” The editor immediately cut me off. "Well, what is this crap, and where is the normal news, where is the most interesting?" “Yes,” I say, “something.” “Well, go, don’t be modest.” “Here,” I say, “the story of how a woman went early in the morning from a night shift, decided to cut the path through the cemetery. There, a maniac spent her. It was still dark and deserted. He dragged her into the crypt and raped her right on the grave plate for three hours until it dawn. With the first rays of the sun, this mysterious stranger disappeared, taking the victim’s cell phone with him. ” Silence hung, the editor looked like all with his gaze. “And you,” he says, “are you going to show it?” “Well, yes,” I answer, “if you do not mind, of course.” - “So this is just a great story! You can, when you want, you can! Do you have a heroine, by the way, do you have a picture? " “No,” I say, “only a crypt, and then a photograph from a criminal case, a recording of a suspect from a street observation camera and a commentary from a trace.” “So,” he says, “look for a woman, urgently, then lead to that crypt, let him tell you everything and show everything.” I entrusted all this to the producer “at all costs,” I say, “look, otherwise you will go to the next planning in my place.”

Then, naive, I still did not suspect what price I would have to pay for this report. The producer tells me: they say, let's go to the place, now the woman will do there. I had to go, because at that time I had not even gained myself a staff of employees. As a result, I found that crypt in the cemetery and, before the heroine arrived, decided to dial pictures. Turned on the camera, climbed into the crypt. After some time, I hear steps. I thought the heroine came, but there was a clang of a hinged castle - and I realized: I was closed in a crypt. I, you know, immediately remembered the film “A burial alive”, some kind of such a film where a man was buried, then he got out of this grave and took revenge on everyone. There, the same, in my opinion, the plot was in all parts. Well, if I'm wrong, correct me. Enough, you know, unpleasant, here, to be in the place of this person. The cemetery security flew for that case with rape, so the guards did not come up with anything better than closing me there. Well, of course, they called the police. While the court and the case, the editor -in -chief calls me: “Well,” he says, “where are you?” “In the crypt,” I say. "What the hell! You should already be here, ether very soon! " “Yes, I can’t get out of here, the guards closed me here.” “Well, then let's write you on the phone.”

So I became the first in the editorial office and, perhaps, even the first reporter in the world to live from the crypt.

History is second, from my detective practice

A woman turned to our agency. The standard was enough: I asked to find out where her beloved daughter disappears in the evenings. Well, of course, the girl is nineteen years old, romance, boys, first sex. Here the last point was especially worried about that in general, right, in the sound sense of adolescence. Just the daughter of a young man appeared, who is - it is really not clear, so my mother was worried.

We sent the outside to follow the girl. The outside is an external observation specialist who monitors objects. There are such people in the police and in the special services. Well, upon retirement, they continue their career already in detective agencies. So, we sent the outside to follow. He returns somewhat puzzled-well, a person, again, middle-aged, is not used to this, in general, although he had seen different things. “Well,” I say, “what excited you so much?” “Bad things,” he says, “the boss.” -"What is it?" - “Your client is very upset, judge for yourself. The first evening: the gentleman is driving after the girl by car. They kissed, hugged, set off on the road-road. I'm behind them. They go to the outskirts of the district, turn into a cemetery, park, then she sits down on a guy, well, and went away. The second evening is the same situation, the third evening ... ”I say:“ Stop, stop, stop, stop! What, - I ask, - again in the cemetery, or what? " - “Yes, in the cemetery. And very so briskly everything happens with them, to see just any way. ” “So, interesting,” I say, “it will now have to retell all this to the client.”

The conversation came out emotional. “Well, everything went on growing: the guy to her,” I say, “comes, kiss at the entrance in the car.” "Oh, ah!" - Well, the client sighs. Still, you know, the woman in itself is so intelligent, that's how it is on purpose. It can be seen that the speech is correct, and keeps himself like that, with dignity. “So,” I continue my story, “then they go in the car, come to the cemetery.” -“Oh, how, in the cemetery, what? My daughter! In the cemetery! In the evening! With this, do not understand with this?! " “Yes,” I say, “they have in the car, ahem, sex.” - “Sex?! Yes, this simply cannot be! " "Will you watch photos?" - I ask, and I blush myself, generally a pipets. Well, here our client was nearly bad. Oh, I don’t like such moments, well, I don’t like it, well ... Well, what can you do, they pay us for the truth, no matter how bitter it is. “But this is not all,” I say, “they have sex regularly in the cemetery.” -"What is it, regularly?" “Well, that is, every evening they go there purposefully, and there they have, well, everything happens.” We will omit what is called, all the words said, sighs, screams. We completed our work for conscience, the next task was to find out, in fact, why in the cemetery: there are full places of different places.

We decided to go through the guy. He caught him with a local district police officer. “In the army,” I ask, “you don’t plan to go?” “No, no, I'm not suitable, here I am collecting certificates.” “And then look,” I say, “we can organize an alternative service to you, you will take care of the graveyards, plant flowers, if you love the cemetery.” The guy told us everything as it is and told. It turned out that the girl was excited by a cemetery atmosphere. She has a certain fetish. I, friends, do not know if there is some name for this, it is quite possible that there is. In the process, in the girl herself, I liked to imagine that the deceased was watching her. This is something between necrophilia and exhibitionism, I do not know. I would say: "Necroxygibrationism." Now imagine how all this I later stated the same girl to the mother. It was not easy to find the right words, oh not easy.

They agreed that the child, in fact is no longer a girl, needs to be saved. My colleagues and I thought over - and decided to apply our good old psychological castration. Those who are familiar with my podcasts have already heard about this technique. If you are not in the know, be sure to listen, but do not practice better yourself - trust professionals. So, we came up with a way a girl to chop: to recapture, so to speak, a desire to visit a cemetery for their carnal pleasures.

It was all the same. In general, I had to buy a place for the burial, install a memorial there. On the monument they knocked out the surname, name, patronymic of our girl, and nearby - a photo on enamel: all in the best traditions. Once again, when the guys were carried away by this business, it is clear that the guy was already not happy, but I wanted to fuck, well, in general, of course, I looked around, well, I was nervous. In general, we were in place of them: “How,” we ask, “is it not a shame for you, a girl who are deceased to bother? Fuck, please, but on your grave, ”and we bring her to the grave. In general, she does not go to this cemetery anymore.

The grave, by the way, remained there, for the future.

Third story, about rape on the grave

There is a Smolensk cemetery in St. Petersburg. It is located on Vasilievsky Island, and the road to the bus stop runs through this cemetery.

Here our people have such a strange feature: cut the path through graveyards. But as practice shows, because this is how you can not only the road to the stop, but in general to cut the life path - immediately to the grave directly. So, one evening, the tipsy Madame went home from the corporate party. Nothing is smarter than in Potemki to go through the cemetery, she, of course, did not come up with. There, three young and very loving guests of the city were stolen there. The lady was thrown to someone's grave, and then I, well, will not tell. As a result, all three were detained. I, being at that time by a criminal reporter, came to take off the detainees in the IVS, that is, in the temporary detention center. This is not a pre-trial detention center, but, in general, the first step towards it. Further standard dialogue: "What are the detained for?" “I don’t know,” he answers, “they said,” fucked. ” “Tell me,” I say, “in a non-commercial.” -"Normal fuck."

On this I have everything. Do not go better in cemeteries, let's respect the memory, because everything, as you know, will be there.