He had been taken from the desert, in Texas, when he was seven years old.
His father, shot-gun in hand and he had been climbing rocky outbreaks amidst cactus and scrub.
They had hunted coyote there before, successfully.
They had used a coyote lure, a blow- into device that produced a sound that resembled a rabbit’s cry of pain; with their backs to the setting sun to blind the predator’s approach, they had shot and killed six, that evening.
A craft had appeared overhead.
It had appeared from nowhere, instantly.
It was blue like the sky, slowly changing to brown, like the desert floor, then silver as though the color progression change of metal cooling.
Later, when his father had awoken, a shell had been discharged, missing from the chamber, but he had no memory of ever firing the gun.
The seven year old had been swept aloft into an overhead craft and examined by small, dark, large-eyed, hairless beings with large pear-shaped heads extended in the back.
They had a thin torso, long arms with three long fingers, spindly legs, no ears and mere slits for mouth.
The large black eyes strangely had compelling power.
“You will not remember!”
But he had remembered..
He had felt pain unlike any ever imagined; he screamed as they penetrated every part of his body: ears, eyes, nose, head, sinuses, feet, arms, intestines, legs.
The large black-wet eyes had stared at him endlessly, extensively, close up to his head.
“This will not hurt.”, they had said.
But agony had suffused lines and channels throughout his body.
Terror, rage and pain had overcome him.
The creatures had been puzzled by his pain, saying,” You will not remember.”
When he was returned to the desert floor, some forty minutes later, his father had looked switched off, eyes glazed, saliva dribbling from the right corner of his mouth.
It was his sobbing, he had then believed that had awoken his father.
His father had told him that he had imagined and dreamed it.
“The Texas sun can give you heat stroke, make you see things”, he had said, holding the shaking boy close and placing a hand over his son’s forehead.
” Let’s find some shade.”
They had walked to the shade of hemlock and mesquite at the foot of rock outgrowth and had eaten bologna sandwiches with yellow mustard and had washed it down with canteen water.
During this meal, the child had held his father’s hand and would not let go; while he had chewed slowly, he had stared upwards in fear.
When he was seventeen, his abduction experiences had ended violently.
One night, aware of them, he had pretended to be asleep; going into deep, regular breathing, he had visualized a dream he would like to be in; he had waited.
The wallpaper on three walls had bulged and small snouts and pear-shaped grey heads had waggled quickly back and forth.
They had melted out of his bedroom walls to stand coldly surrounding him.
He had jumped up and had grabbed the closest one to him around the neck, had clutched the feather-like being’s back to his own chest, pinioning him.
The creature had frantically struggled to hit him with a small hand-held rod-like device, but the pillows had
prevented the creature from reaching the teenager’s body with it.
In panic, the creature had squirmed and thrashed in the boy’s tightening grip.
The others, in quick moves like jumping spiders, had scattered from the tight circle.
He had tightened his grip and had squeezed hard.
Something brittle had snapped in the creature’s neck.
Suddenly the scene had changed; he had seen his whole family, brother, mother and father surgically eviscerated, but alive.
On a black floor under hospital lights, were lungs, intestines, strewn amidst their gore, as they pleaded with their eyes to save them.
The image had been so real that it had confused, startled and distracted him.
He was convinced that real harm had come to his family and he loosened his grip.
His parents writhed in agony, butchered horribly in front of his eyes.
There had been a dank, musty smell that had permeated the room.
The creature in his arms, in self protection, in desperate panic to free itself, had flashed the image into his mind, but he had killed one of them.
They never came for him again, after that night.
(Author’s note:
Aliens have always been here and are as native and terrestrial to our planet as are thunderstorms; they are the game wardens of this preserve that we call ‘Earth and like good game wardens they do not let the creatures within suspect that it is indeed a preserve. They are inter dimensional as well as inter galactic and can and do use the same dimension that ghosts and demons do to enter and exit our reality.
The lower Earth animal forms seen as reptiles, amphibians, insects are mirrored and echoed by the higher technological forms which have been seen aboard craft who have lent their DNA to create this preserve.
We , too, are constructs of their creative meddling.
When people ask them,”Where are you from?” Where do you come from?”, they are often told,”We come from within.”
That is, after physical abductions, their possessing energies are deposited, not unlike the lamprey parasites that they are, within the multi layered human psyche/mind.)
Paul Schroeder
Source: http://searchwarp.com/swa773478-The-Hunters-Tables-Turned-The-Revenge-Of-An-Alien-Abductee.htm