In Soviet Russia, You Scare Creepypasta
USSR is being scary place, especially for capitalist American pigs.
sovietcreepypasta:

Every morning someone has left a little present on shelf in hallway. Is always small things good Soviet worker needs: a sack of beets, bottle of vodka, a picture of comrade Stalin. The gifts get progressively more expensive, moving on to vintage tapes, MP3 players, jewelry, a small block of platinum.
 Then one day, you find nothing on the shelf. Capitalist stranger has betrayed you like lying dog. KGB arrives and arrests you for failing to report capitalist infiltrator and hoarding gifts like filthy American.

sovietcreepypasta:

Every morning someone has left a little present on shelf in hallway. Is always small things good Soviet worker needs: a sack of beets, bottle of vodka, a picture of comrade Stalin. The gifts get progressively more expensive, moving on to vintage tapes, MP3 players, jewelry, a small block of platinum.

Then one day, you find nothing on the shelf. Capitalist stranger has betrayed you like lying dog. KGB arrives and arrests you for failing to report capitalist infiltrator and hoarding gifts like filthy American.

sovietcreepypasta:

Déjà vu is actually being glitch in reality, and it is indicating that something has just been changed. Someone has just been arrested by KGB and sent to Siberia, all memories and records of their existence erased forever. Déjà vu is happening when KGB get into your brain, when they are needing to change your memories.
Maybe to erase your brother from the world. You know, the brother that you never had. And if you are saying otherwise, you will be sent to Siberia too!

sovietcreepypasta:

Déjà vu is actually being glitch in reality, and it is indicating that something has just been changed. Someone has just been arrested by KGB and sent to Siberia, all memories and records of their existence erased forever. Déjà vu is happening when KGB get into your brain, when they are needing to change your memories.

Maybe to erase your brother from the world. You know, the brother that you never had. And if you are saying otherwise, you will be sent to Siberia too!

sovietcreepypasta:

Like most Russian man, my damnation came in form of bottle of .
Is almost exactly what it sounds like.
When I was child my best friend lived next to small junkyard. We often went to junkyard to throw rocks at scavenging gypsies and do other normal Soviet child things. Occasionally we would get tetanus from rusty trash and friend’s mother would beat us for being careless. Friend’s father would beat us regardless.
One day we were playing with other children, dismantling American car like revolutionaries dismantling capitalist system of government. Under one seat of car was little glass bottle, full of vodka.
My father had often warned me never to drink American vodka because it would make me into filthy capitalist. Other child is daring me to drink it. Being brave Soviet child, I drank it all.
It tasted like pig shit and I was overcome with desire to exploit proletariat.
First effect, I am oversleeping the next morning. In fact, am sleeping all the time like lazy American child. Father is beating me like good Soviet parent should do to slothful child.
Second effect was one month later. I started to cough things up. While tending beet fields I began coughing up blood. Then I was puking. Mother yells at me for wasting food like dirty capitalist. Then I am throwing up intestines, lungs, heart, all organs. Organs are taken by state to be distributed to as food. Nothing is wasted in Soviet Union.
Was not empty like soul of American, though. New organs grew inside me. Not good Soviet organs, but corrupt and rotten organs of bourgeois pig.
Third effect was two months later. I began to crave American bottled water. I tell Father that I am going to America for water. Father is beating me nearly to death and forcing me to drink Russian vodka.
After month of twice daily beatings, hard labor and vodka, am becoming good Soviet child again. Now am only drinking Russian vodka for many years. Doctors tell me liver will fail soon. Wife waits for me to die so she can sell herself to rich American man like Polish whore.
Such is life in Mother Russia.

sovietcreepypasta:

Like most Russian man, my damnation came in form of bottle of .

Is almost exactly what it sounds like.

When I was child my best friend lived next to small junkyard. We often went to junkyard to throw rocks at scavenging gypsies and do other normal Soviet child things. Occasionally we would get tetanus from rusty trash and friend’s mother would beat us for being careless. Friend’s father would beat us regardless.

One day we were playing with other children, dismantling American car like revolutionaries dismantling capitalist system of government. Under one seat of car was little glass bottle, full of vodka.

My father had often warned me never to drink American vodka because it would make me into filthy capitalist. Other child is daring me to drink it. Being brave Soviet child, I drank it all.

It tasted like pig shit and I was overcome with desire to exploit proletariat.

First effect, I am oversleeping the next morning. In fact, am sleeping all the time like lazy American child. Father is beating me like good Soviet parent should do to slothful child.

Second effect was one month later. I started to cough things up. While tending beet fields I began coughing up blood. Then I was puking. Mother yells at me for wasting food like dirty capitalist. Then I am throwing up intestines, lungs, heart, all organs. Organs are taken by state to be distributed to as food. Nothing is wasted in Soviet Union.

Was not empty like soul of American, though. New organs grew inside me. Not good Soviet organs, but corrupt and rotten organs of bourgeois pig.

Third effect was two months later. I began to crave American bottled water. I tell Father that I am going to America for water. Father is beating me nearly to death and forcing me to drink Russian vodka.

After month of twice daily beatings, hard labor and vodka, am becoming good Soviet child again. Now am only drinking Russian vodka for many years. Doctors tell me liver will fail soon. Wife waits for me to die so she can sell herself to rich American man like Polish whore.

Such is life in Mother Russia.

sovietcreepypasta:

There are stories about certain kind of hitchhiker - they are only ever appearing at night on quiet roads, seeming to flicker into existence in edge of headlights, never carrying a sign, always looking sad like man without vodka, swathed in a heavy coat and long pants to ward off frigid Russian winter, usually with gloves because many lose fingers to frostbite. If you stop, they will seem polite, but not chatty like swindling gypsy. They will be telling you that next town or city will be fine spot to leave them. Normal enough. Unless you are trying to kill them. They die easily enough, like fascist German soldiers during World War II. But if you are looking underneath their clothes, you will be seeing that their skin is marred with lines of scars, forming disturbing patterns. They have no wallets, no identification, so is possible they have escaped from Siberian prison, but no one escape from Siberian prison. If you are slicing their belly open, however, they are different inside. Is no blood, no muscle, only a hollow cavity containing single object. Object varies. Examples include, single coin, heavy and golden and engraved with runes only good Soviet scientist could decipher, diamond gem with fractal edges that would be good for slicing beets and small vase, quite unbreakable, that smells of vodka and is always damp… Once you are possessing hitchhiker’s object, you will find yourself always driving the quiet roads at night. You will never mean to always be moving like gypsy, but somehow, you just will. The lure of possessing second one will hum quietly in your head like hangover after too much vodka. You will strain to catch sight of figure appearing in headlights, try to resist impulse to stop, and sometimes you might. But sometimes you will not. You will be telling yourself that this is just normal person on way home from hard day’s work supporting the Motherland, someone who ran out of petrol. Logical part of your brain will scream at what you are doing. You will smile and nod and they will get into the car and you will slowly, casually, be reaching under the seat or across to the glove box. 
Stranger will then arrest you. KGB is aware that you are deranged murderer and have hoarded artifact that rightfully belongs to the state. KGB ALWAYS WATCHING.

sovietcreepypasta:

There are stories about certain kind of hitchhiker - they are only ever appearing at night on quiet roads, seeming to flicker into existence in edge of headlights, never carrying a sign, always looking sad like man without vodka, swathed in a heavy coat and long pants to ward off frigid Russian winter, usually with gloves because many lose fingers to frostbite. If you stop, they will seem polite, but not chatty like swindling gypsy. They will be telling you that next town or city will be fine spot to leave them. Normal enough. Unless you are trying to kill them.

They die easily enough, like fascist German soldiers during World War II. But if you are looking underneath their clothes, you will be seeing that their skin is marred with lines of scars, forming disturbing patterns. They have no wallets, no identification, so is possible they have escaped from Siberian prison, but no one escape from Siberian prison. If you are slicing their belly open, however, they are different inside. Is no blood, no muscle, only a hollow cavity containing single object. Object varies. Examples include, single coin, heavy and golden and engraved with runes only good Soviet scientist could decipher, diamond gem with fractal edges that would be good for slicing beets and small vase, quite unbreakable, that smells of vodka and is always damp…

Once you are possessing hitchhiker’s object, you will find yourself always driving the quiet roads at night. You will never mean to always be moving like gypsy, but somehow, you just will. The lure of possessing second one will hum quietly in your head like hangover after too much vodka. You will strain to catch sight of figure appearing in headlights, try to resist impulse to stop, and sometimes you might. But sometimes you will not. You will be telling yourself that this is just normal person on way home from hard day’s work supporting the Motherland, someone who ran out of petrol. Logical part of your brain will scream at what you are doing. You will smile and nod and they will get into the car and you will slowly, casually, be reaching under the seat or across to the glove box. 

Stranger will then arrest you. KGB is aware that you are deranged murderer and have hoarded artifact that rightfully belongs to the state. KGB ALWAYS WATCHING.

Cat Is Hero Of Soviet Motherland

sovietcreepypasta:

You come home from hard day of work at Soviet tractor factory.
Enter lounge and drink vodka. Cat sit on top of kitchen table, stare at you. “Stupid cat” you say, “You look just like Stalin’s fat ugly wife!”.

Early next morning, KGB kick-down front door and take you to Siberian gulag for outrageous slur against Comrade Stalin’s beautiful wife.

In glorious Soviet motherland, even a cat can be trained to report its owner for spreading discontent and telling lies about senior party members.

Cat receive Order Of Lenin medal and senior position in KGB; you receive 30 year hard labour sentence at Soviet re-education camp.

Life is just and fair under our beloved leader Stalin…

sovietcreepypasta:

One day I was driving tractor when tractor broke. I resume driving on my bare hands because i dont need tractor for that. Next day there is brand new tractor in front of house. Tractor has sign: “Olga you get new tractor from nearby tractor factory because we hear your old tractor is broke down.” I start driving around new tractor. Go to village and let people know that i have new tractor from nearby tractor factory. On third day KGB is outside my door and say that nearby tractory factory has never existed, they say that i have been driving with made-up tractor. I get sent to gulag for making up a tractor. Made-up tractor also sent to gulag for being made up. KGB watch you if you are not even real.

sovietcreepypasta:

There is child in hospital in Moscow. Child is quiet like well-behaved Soviet toddler and remains in nursery with all newborns. If you are asking staff, they will ignore you, but tag on his arm is old and yellow, clearly made around late 1940s. He is never crying, only rocking quietly like old gypsy woman. If you are speaking name on his tag, his eyes will be opening. You may then berate him for his laziness and send him to work in factory or beet field. Child is never too young to work for Motherland.

sovietcreepypasta:

There is child in hospital in Moscow. Child is quiet like well-behaved Soviet toddler and remains in nursery with all newborns. If you are asking staff, they will ignore you, but tag on his arm is old and yellow, clearly made around late 1940s. He is never crying, only rocking quietly like old gypsy woman. If you are speaking name on his tag, his eyes will be opening. You may then berate him for his laziness and send him to work in factory or beet field. Child is never too young to work for Motherland.

Dear Comrade, I work so very hard in tractor factor in Perm, make tractor for glory and honour of Soviet Union. I work so hard, I drink many vodka to try to get a relax; problem is, I cannot get any relax. Comrade, please to give your recommendations to help deal with my big stress that I have from doing my workings for greater good of glorious Motherland. My name Yvgeny Piotr Annikov (PS Please do not do a reportings of me to KGB)
Anonymous

Is strange thing, comrade. KGB is telling me that there has never been Yvgeny Piotr Annikov who work in tractor factor in Perm. Those who say otherwise will be sent to Siberia.

However, my advice to any comrades feeling stress from working for glory of motherland is to turn self in for reeducation. Stress is product of counterrevolutionary capitalist thought and is not such thing for true Soviet.

sixpenceee:

In 1989 there was a computer literally electrocuted, chess player Nikolai Gudkov for winning 3x in a row!

His death occurred at the very instant when he touched the metal board he and the machine were playing chess on. Alexei Shainev, a Soviet police investigator, told Moscow reporters: "This was no accident - it was cold-blooded murder."

He also explained to the reporters: “Niko Gudkov won three straight games and the computer couldn’t stand it. When the chess master reached for his knight to begin play in the fourth game, the computer sent a lethal surge of electricity to the board surface.

The computer had been programmed to move its chess pieces by producing a low-level electric current. “Hundreds of people simply watched Gudkov being electrocuted.

Legal experts all over the word were simply shocked by the astonishing decision to put the computer on trial

 Reports say that Gudkov managed to win the game three times in a row, beating the supercomputer. Just when he was about to win the fourth game, the lethal dose of electricity sent by the “evil machine” struck the poor man dead

 According to Soviet authorities, their initial supposition was that the death was simply caused by some sort of damage in the system, like a short-circuit caused by the overuse of the machine. But, after examining the state of the computer, it turned out that there was simply nothing wrong with it.

Later on, they discovered that the computer made an electricity flow reach the board just to ensure its winning the chess game: "The computer was programmed to win at chess and when it couldn’t do that legitimately, it killed its opponent," investigator Shalnev mentioned. He added: “It might sound ridiculous to bring a machine to trial for murder. But a machine that can solve problems and think [sic] faster than any human must be held accountable for its actions.”

MORE POSTS LIKE THIS

SOURCE

sixpenceee:

Anatoli Bugorski might be the luckiest scientist of all time.

While poking around the machine, Bugorski stuck his head inside the accelerator and straight into the path of a proton beam.

As it coursed through his skull, the proton beam burned a hole through Bugorski’s brain. While it was painless, he said he was blinded by a flash “brighter than a thousand suns.”

After staggering away from the machine, the left side of his face swelled to enormous proportions. Later, the skin near the entry and exit wounds peeled away, and Bugorski lost hearing in his left ear. However, this Soviet survived his mind-blowing experience, perhaps because the proton beam was moving at nearly the speed of light.

Despite his good luck, Bugorski eventually lost every nerve in the left side of his face becoming partially paralyzed. The proton beam also damaged Bugorski’s mental capabilities, though not as badly as you might expect. Despite his handicap, Bugorski earned a PhD and is still alive today, proving that it takes a lot more than a proton beam to kill a Russian.

SOURCE

FOR A POST ON THE MAN WITH ALMOST NO BRAIN

This man is true Soviet.

sixpenceee:

Creepy Russian playgrounds

Let the “in Mother Russia” jokes begin 

unhistorical:

June 16, 1963: Valentina Tereshkova becomes the first woman in space.

Two years after Yuri Gagarin became the first human in space, fellow cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova, launched on the Vostok 6 spaceflight, became the first woman to do so. Prior to her recruitment as a cosmonaut, Tereshkova was an amateur parachutist, the daughter of a tractor driver and a textile worker (if anything, her humble background made her an even more qualified candidate to represent the women of the Soviet space program). 

Tereshkova was relatively young when she ventured into space; at twenty-six, she was exactly ten years younger than the Mercury Seven's youngest astronaut, Gordon Cooper. After several months of intensive and secretive training, she was nominated and confirmed by Nikita Khrushchev himself to become the first woman in space, and she did so flawlessly on June 16, 1963. She remained in orbit for nearly three days, performing the same tasks as her male counterparts (collecting photographic information, manning her craft), before returning to Earth on June 19. Tereshkova made no further spaceflights after her milestone first, and nearly two decades passed before the Soviet Union ever launched another woman into space. Despite the brevity of her space career, she was not forgotten in her country and received several awards and decorations for her accomplishments - almost immediately after her successful return from space, Tereshkova received the title of “Hero of the Soviet Union”, which was awarded for “heroic feats in service to the Soviet state and society”. 

Other links: How Valentina Tereshkova’s spaceflight worked

historicaltimes:

The World Festival of Youth and Students 1957, Moscow, USSR unknown photographer

historicaltimes:

The World Festival of Youth and Students 1957, Moscow, USSR unknown photographer

fuckyeahsovietrussia:

Demostration on the First of May, International Workers’ Day. 

russiamagazine:

Breed rabbits, 1957

russiamagazine:

Breed rabbits, 1957