The Cursed Apartment

Leningrad, Soviet Socialist Republic, Sadovaya Street. The 1940s. You, your wife, and a friend move into a five-room apartment, No. 66, overlooking the embankment. The move promises peace, but instead, a series of ominous events unfolds. First, your wife disappears without a trace—you don't pay attention to it, as your relationship has long been strained. Then, a friend dies tragically. And then, rumors begin to spread about a curse on the apartment and its previous occupants. The first owner of the ill-fated apartment was Alexandra Frantsevna, a fifty-year-old French businesswoman. She rented out three of the five rooms to tenants. One was named Serovod, the other's surname has vanished into oblivion, but it was with them that it all began. Two years ago, unexplained things began happening in apartment no. 66: people began disappearing without a trace. One weekend, the second tenant, as usual, went to the Writers' Union, left his belongings there, and never returned. The pious, and frankly superstitious, Sonya told the distraught Alexandra Frantsevna it was witchcraft. She knew perfectly well who had "snatched" the tenant, but refused to talk until nightfall. And as we know, once witchcraft begins, it can't be stopped. The tenant disappeared on Monday. On Wednesday, Serovod vanished into thin air. As usual, a police car picked him up in the morning and took him to work, but no one saw him or the car when he returned. Madame Serovod's grief was terrible, but short-lived. That same night, returning from the dacha with Sonya, where Alexandra Frantsevna had hastily departed, she found Mrs. Serovod missing. The couple's rooms were sealed from the inside. Two days later, Alexandra herself disappeared, followed by Sonya, under mysterious circumstances! Naturally, you disbelieved this nonsense, but in vain. It's Saturday, early morning. Yesterday you were at your boss's corporate party and got terribly drunk, celebrating your successful engineering project. Your head is pounding, so you sit up in bed and stare at the glass-fronted dressing table next to your chair. And in the reflection appears an unnaturally tall man, dressed all in black...