THREE OF MY ENCOUNTERS

By Cherry Hinkle

 Bigfoot Encounter in the California Forest

I must admit I did experience a Bigfoot in the forest in northern California back in 1977, but I rarely want to talk about it because I was not supposed to be there anyway. I had been driving all day and had traveled by any side roads that were not highways. That made the trip from Lake Tahoe, Nevada to a California point that was in the northern part of the state. I was in the northern rugged mountains of that state, and deep inside a vast forest and beside a beautiful mountain river. There was nothing to see but mature trees and shrubs from all directions. Imagine a forest so vast it reminds me of huge waves of deep green trees – or like an Ocean of trees, nothing to see but endless tree covered mountains.

It must have been nearly late evening, but since it was summer, there was still a lingering hint of light in the sky. There was no way to hide my fatigue if someone found me, and I knew I was too tired to drive on to the next town because I was in need of a few hours of sleep, at least that my mood at exact at that time, too tired to explore, and too tired to open my cooler and eat a piece of fruit. I could only think of rest and how good the sleeping bag would feel right now.

I am usually careful and always abide by the laws of the land and do not knowingly break any laws or rules posted by the roads. I guess that night I didn’t care that I ignored the sign that said ‘no overnight camping,’ but that evening I just pulled into the very wide area. There must have been enough space to park 50 or 60 cars in that area, but I was alone when I pulled the car close to the river. It was a beautiful area, trees, smooth dirt roads, lots of beach-like sand beside the cold water in the wide river. Some of the beautiful trees grew so close to the water they provided a lot of shade that part of the river. The parking area if clear of debris, just tall Ponderosa trees and a few sparse boulders here and there near the river. If wanted to, I could have parked much closer to the river and I suspect I could have open the driver’s door and cool my feet in the cold water of the brisk water. But I parked about 10 to 12 feet from the water edge. I just wanted to rest, not swim or cool my feet.

I had a vague plan in mind that I’d just sleep for a three or four hours and then head up into Oregon, it couldn’t be more than an hour’s drive at the time, with me being so tired that idea sounded great.

I think it would be a good idea that I tell you about my car at this point. Back in the late 1970s my car was a station wagon and this car had the back seat folded down flat and had deep a foam pad under my sleeping bag and pillows. No one could be more comfortable that me than the cozy roomy area I fashioned for this planned long road trip. I even had hanging lantern type lights so I could read a little if I wanted to – but I used the lantern mostly to read the local maps to find the back roads and avoid the highways and freeways, it is a wonderful way to enjoy a leisure trip.

Before I left home that summer, I had designed blackout curtains in the back of my car, lots of pillows, and plenty of extra blankets to give me a cozy spot to sleep, safe inside the locked car. The crisp night air would drift under and over the curtains and it sure made sleeping a pleasure. Too, I had curtains on both sides and the back window, and between the front seat and the back the area was very private, so at night no one could look into my sleeping area. I felt comfortable and very safe back there.

On the night I encountered the gargantuan creature known as Bigfoot, I had a few items I needed to do before decided to sleep. I settled in the sleeping bag, plumped up my pillows, turned on the lantern for a few minutes to check the map. I looked for the next town on the map, making sure the route I’d follow in the wee hours of the morning was clear in my mind.

I had both the back side windows open about an inch or so, and the smell of the cool night breeze hinted of aged pine and maybe the scent of brisk cold water babbling along the river, I could hear the water splashing on the rocks a few feet from my car. It was so tranquil and peaceful to be there in the mountains, enjoying the fresh mountain air, so cool, so fresh – it was wonderful – until the sickening smell of skunk-like odor hit me.

It was also about that time I became aware of the well-defined sound of heavy footsteps slowly approaching. The steps sounded overly heavy and about 60 feet away. Judging from the sound, the steps were in front of my car, and near the river. The heard the distinct sound of brittle leaves crushed and the sounds of branches snapping under his feet as he approached my car. The clear and vivid sounds became closer and my heart started to pound in my ears. I listened carefully – holding my breath – when I realized he was sneaking up on me, very slowly, several seconds between each step. There is no way I could be mistaken on this; I could clearly hear his approach getting closer and closer! I sure didn’t like that idea one bit and I knew I might be in serious trouble. I felt my mouth getting dry and longed to drink deep from my canteen, but resisted that urge. I quickly turned off the lantern and fumbled around for a weapon I could use if I needed it, I found my car jack on right side of the car. Meanwhile the stench of the powerful odor got stronger with each step he got closer.

The smell was repulsive, and nothing you want to smell twice in your lifetime. This odor was overpoweringly strong and unpleasant, similar to a skunk. Not only the stench was very unpleasant, I kept thinking that the smell it’s self created a wave of fear. All these notions were in my mind as I lay there getting thirsty and afraid in the cool night air. I tried to allow reasoning take over and consider the idea but the thought refuses to believe this is not happening, because I love being outside, love the dark, the forest up in these mountains is dense and so beautiful I never fear the wonder of the forest at night. But this night, I felt a clear sense of sharp fear and an unreasoning fear that goes against everything I believe and felt all my life. I was never afraid at night in the forest and the sound of steps outside my window – they never bother me in the past, so I thought “this bad odor is creating the fear I feel.”

My normal methods to overcome fear refused or ignored and that night my apprehensive tactics did not win the battle. I knew had to escape and avoid the sound of the determined humanoid that was approaching my car! I pulled my keys out my jeans pocket, my fingers found the ignition key in the dark car and grabbed the curtains between the front the seat and ripped the curtains open fast, I quickly slid into the driver’s wheel position and started the car. My hands froze on the steering wheel, locked in position and ready to take off in a cloud of dust – but I couldn’t move. My eyes witnessed the spectacle of a huge Bigfoot standing beside the right front fender. My eyes too felt frozen in place, taking in the sight of too big non-human humanoid standing only inches from my car.

When I say he was huge you can really trust me on this one – he must have been 8 to 9 feet tall, and his body was covered with thick long fur on his very broad shoulders and face, I could see his wide chest, be was built like a powerful gorilla, with one hand he put his left hand on his chest and he looked like he was about to put his right hand on the fender of the car. In the light of the moon above I could see him clearly. I turned on the headlights, and　I could see the auburn fur in the reflection of the headlights. He was so tall I couldn’t　see all of his face, just his angular jaw and part of his wide dark lips.

All of this I saw it clear as a bell in the clear night, it takes a long time to describe all of it, but at the time it happened, it took only seconds, and I turned and looked once again at the smelly creature standing beside my car fender – and the overpowering fear hit the pit of my stomach. Meanwhile, I kept thinking this fear is not real, I am never afraid with animals, people, aliens – why do I fear this time? But the fear won, and　I pulled the transmission gears into drive, stomped on the gas, and left the side if the river and the amazing Bigfoot still standing in place.

Sometimes I contemplate that amazing night, wondering why the fear was so unstoppable. Other times I wonder what might have happened if I conquered my fear and stayed beside that river. Would I be now one of the few humans that communicated with a Bigfoot? Or would I just be just another missing woman, another lady that the authorities assume I got lost in the forest? I’ll never know for sure because that night I didn’t stop my car until I found a town with street lights. I sat filled with fear, and I parked under the street light, and stayed in that position for another hour until the sun came up.

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Reptilian Encounter in the Nevada Desert

By Cherry Hinkle

Henderson Nevada

The city of Las Vegas and well-known Las Vegas Strip with is their glittering casinos, as well as the communities of North Las Vegas and Henderson, fills this crowded desert Nevada valley.

Black Mountain looms over the desert community of Henderson, situated on the east slopes of the valley. That dark mountain is the home of many television towers and other towers on the top. It is the home of mines and caves that pock the sides of Black Mountain.
Today, there are businesses and homes, and a freeway that cut into the slopes of that mountain, but in the middle of the 1970’s just open desert from the middle of town to the mountain. More open undisturbed miles of desert until sparkling Las Vegas. With the building boom, homes and businesses crowd the once open desert.

In 1977, every kid in town knew the rules – do not climb or play on that mountain. All parents understood of the constant danger of the deep open mines and caves, but danger lures the younger set, and several deaths occurred on the slopes of Black Mountain.
It was on a pleasant day, and my thirteen-year-old son Marc and his friend Harry, roamed in the empty desert between my house, and the forbidden Black Mountain. Being adventurous boys, the chance to explore a cave and carry back a rock or two, and a lifetime of memories is enough to break the rules.

They hiked maybe the scant one mile across the desert and climbed the little hills in front of Black Mountain. On the backside of one of the little hills, Marc and Harry located a cave. They had to squirm into the narrow opening, and belly crawl through the cave to the larger room and turned on their small pocket flashlights. They saw a circular room roughly nine feet across. Near the back wall, they spotted a large deeper hole. They found several large branches that someone had dragged a couple large branches about a mile from closest tree, and tossed the branches into the hole creating a makeshift ladder to climb down into the lower pit.

The pit was roomy, with a short annex. Occasional debris littered the rocky floor, like a tin can or two, a battered teen magazine perched on a small outcrop of rock that served as shelf. The boys explored to main cave, then turned their attention to the short tunnel or annex.
Sounds carry in a cave, and the walls slightly vibrate if a loud voice reverberates throughout the small room. It was then, that the boys heard the sounds of a voices and maybe the distance humming of machines. Intrigued by the thought of they were mining nearby, the boys went a deeper into the tunnel. On the far end, they found a rusty metal door, and near the door a strange metal rod. The one-foot rod was lightweight and resembled aluminum, with a cap on one end and a few strange engravings on one side.

Marc weaved the rod in the belt loops of his jeans, focused the beam of his flashlight on the door, and tried the doorknob. He discovered a strong bolt secured the door from the reverse side. Harry shook the doorknob and pounded on it a few times. Startled, the boys heard the sound or guttural harsh voices talking, and the certain sound of approaching footsteps. They suddenly felt a wave of fear, knowing they were inside a forbidden cave, weaponless, and an angry animalistic growling voice attempted to open to the door any second.

Marc, the taller of the two, pushed Harry up the makeshift ladder and scrambled up the wood branch to the upper level of the cave. They heard the metal door clank and squeak loudly as the door it opened. The boys crawled as quickly through the narrow tunnel, and outside, the stood up and ran about the distance of a city block away from the cave entrance. They laughed at their dirty hands and faces, relieved the escaped from and the unknown man with harsh voices in the cave. They looked at the strangely engraved rod, trying to figure out what language might include circles, ovals, swirls and triangles.

Without a warning, they heard a loud threatening growl. Harry and Marc looked back at the cave entrance and to their horrified eyes; they watched as a very large greenish humanoid struggled to force his big body out of narrow cave. The boys screamed and started running down the slope of the hill, running top speed! They didn’t look back until they were near my back yard. They slowed down, breathing hard and glanced back to the mountain.

To their shock and fear, the huge humanoid was trotting towards them! They started screaming again put on a burst of speed and ran into the house; Marc locked the door screaming “MOM! MOM! Help us Mom! He’s going to get us!” Alarmed, I ran into family room, and both boys threw their arms around me, crying. They both were shaking, not just their hands, but also their entire body shook! Wet tears left muddy tracks across their cheeks. Marc begged, “Don’t open the door Mom, he going to get us!”

Meanwhile, Harry added, “He is big, and looks mean! Don’t open that door – please, please, don’t open that door!” Instantly I was furious with the man that generated such terror these young boys! At thirteen, boys are usually trying to impress everyone how brave they can be, so I know it took a lot of nerve to admit that much fear.

“Boys, you go get a drink of water and let me go talk to this man,” I suggested, but they tightened their grip on me, screaming “NO, NO, NO! That guy will kill you! He is not a man! Don’t go out there Mom!”

I managed to coax one arm free from each boy. I looked into their worried eyes. “Boys – nobody is going to kill anybody, and you know I won’t allow anyone hurt you! Now – what do you mean he is not a man? It’s a woman that is threatening you?”

“No Mom, it’s a man, sort of, he looks like a man, but his face looks like a snake or YEAH, like a lizardman! He’s ugly and he doesn’t wear anything. He’s naked, except a wide belt with stuff on it.”

I stared at my son, imagining some teenager wearing a Halloween costume. I laughed a little, and said, “Boys, it was just someone playing a joke on you!”
Both boys started protesting again, both talking at the same time. I could hear the panic in their voices rising again, and finally Harry said, “That guy couldn’t be wear any costume, he could barely squeeze himself out of the cave, he would have ripped he costume into pieces!”

“What cave? Did you go boys up on Black Mountain even when you knew the danger?” I asked.

“Mom – listen to me, it was a lizardman and he was naked. I’ve never seen a costume that shows EVERYTHING, he was naked Mom, and it was NOT a costume! You know what I mean Mom?”

With difficulty, I untangled myself from the tight grip boys, and looked out the window. I peered carefully out the widow expecting the spectacle of a lizardman, but nothing moved, not a child, not a man and no lizardman. I reassured the boys the danger is in the past and the man was long gone.

It was at that point, I noticed Marc was holding a strange metal rod. “What do you have in your hand son?” Marc glanced at the rod and threw it on the floor as if it would burn his hand. I leaned to pick it up but Harry grabbed my arm, warning it was dangerous, maybe a weapon. I picked it up reminding them they carried it from the mountain safely all that time, so it couldn’t be too dangerous.

The rod was approximate one and a half inch across, maybe a foot long with a slight indentation at one end and a plain gray cap on the other. I looked at the bizarre symbols engraved in a three-inch section of the rod. It was just symbols, from spirals, circles of different sizes, a few triangles, and a few unknown symbols. There were no levers or buttons, and the cap at the end didn’t seem to move. The rod, with its professionally created symbols and smooth to the touch, I knew it was not a toy, but nothing I recognized.

It was late afternoon, and the long shadows cast ominous shapes in the yard, I knew Harry was still too nervous to walk home alone. Marc and I walked the distance of two houses and made sure he was safe inside before we walked home.

That night, Marc was still nervous, peeking out the curtains often, expecting the worse. Marc played Scrabble with his sisters, anything to keep his mind busy. Near midnight, we went to bed.

It must have been around two in the morning when Marc shook me whispering harshly that someone is trying to get into his bedroom window. I hoped it was just a nightmare, or his nerves were still on edge. Quietly we slipped into his bedroom and listened to the sounds of scraping at the window edge! He was not mistaken – in the light of the moon I could make out the silhouette head and shoulders of a man.

I was alone with my four kids, no husband to protect us, so I grabbed my flashlight; suddenly tossed the curtains open to face the man. There was a glare from the flashlight on the window, but past glare that I could clearly see a large head with ridges on the top, other ridges on his cheekbones, and the glow of golden eyes. Marc and I stood still, unmoving, both fear and shock kept us frozen. The lizardman didn’t move either, his hand still poised in his attempt pry the window open. He hand was large, with webbed rough, gnarly looking fingers, with powerful claws.

After a couple minutes, not seconds, but long agonized minutes with our hearts pounding I knew I had to do something. One hand still holding the flashlight beam on his face and my eyes still locked into those golden eyes, I fumbled around in the dark with my other hand, hoping to find something to use as a weapon, is needed. He glanced at my hand, looked back into my eyes. He turned his head a little, as if he was asking a questioning, he slightly opened his lipless lips, displaying four of his pointed teeth, and suddenly he turned and ran off into the desert.

Marc suddenly closed the curtains, grabbed my hand and led my shaking legs to the edge of his bed. We sat there for a few silent minutes. We just sat there, trying to comprehend the incredible event, with little success. We started talking at the same time, and started checking the doors and windows repeatedly. His sisters were completely awake by then, and we all talked all night, going from windows to doors until full sunlight.

Later in the morning, we decided the reason the lizardman was breaking in the house was to reclaim that metal rod. Marc and I hiked back to the cave and placed the strange rod beside the cave entrance.
The lizardman never again attempted to enter this house, and for that, I am relieved.

After a few days, I went outside and looked at that window. It was then that I found that that bottom edge of that window is close to six feet high from the ground. It was a shock to realize the lizardman must have been very tall, over seven feet tall! Inside the windows are high, but about five feet high, from outside there is no way no one could look through this window – unless they were extremely tall.

This event is real. “Harry” is not the real name, but since I have been unable to locate him and ask permission, I used a pseudo name. Marc’s name is real, and he was my only son. Marc died in 1999. I still live in sight of Black Mountain. People living close to that mountain sometimes report underground rumbling at night when it is quiet. UFOs are often seen and photographed over Black Mountain, that shouldn’t be too surprising; we live not far from Area 51 in Nevada.

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THE MEN-IN-BLACK ABDUCTED ME FROM MY HOSPITAL ROOM
By Cherry Hinkle

(To understand the “why and where” I offer this pre-information regarding what happened in this case. *Thanks.*) {In 1978 I was in a car accident that torn the muscles in my back, it left me in a rigid brace back and rigid neck brace, (I wore the back brace for over 11 years) and I suffered headaches from that car wreck. I moved from Las Vegas Nevada to Colorado in September 1979. In December 1979, Tom Castello visited me in Colorado and talked to me about the infamous Dulce Base. In January 1980 my doctor suggested I should have an angiogram to find out why I had these headaches. (Meanwhile, the CIA, FBI and other groups visited my home, many times, looking for Tom Castello.) I agreed to take this medical test, but the small Colorado town I lived in didn’t have a medical facility, he suggested to a different town in a different state, roughly 80 miles away. In early February 1980 I scheduled an appointment for that medical test. And now you can understand the following events.}
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Abducted from my hospital room? I would have laughed if someone suggested it might happen… the thought is ludicrous, things like that never happen in federally owned hospitals, right? But don’t laugh yet – because sometimes Fate gives you a big shock, a wake-up call. Looking back wondering could I have prevented the horrid experience of three men abducting me from my hospital room in the middle of the night. Let me go back and attempt to explain what happened.

My Colorado doctor promised it would be no big deal, a simple angiogram to determine why I had severe headaches; it was hardly more than a Cat-Scan or X-Ray of my brain, a simple one hour medical procedure. My doctor suggested it would be best if I would agree to an overnight stay in the hospital because they want the medical test at 6am, and I lived over 80 miles away, in a different state.

I checked into the hospital at 9pm. At bedtime took the little white pill the nurse gave me after she assured me it would allow me to sleep well, and the doctor wanted me rested for the angiogram in the morning.

I don’t how long I’d been sleeping when I felt the palm of man’s hand firmly over my mouth. I struggled to clear the sleep from my mind and to see the thin face of the man leaning over my face. I grabbed his hand, trying to pull his hand off my mouth, but he was strong and determined to keep me from crying out. “If I remove my hand off your mouth will remain silent?” the man asked. Looking into his dark sunglasses I silently nodded my yes. I was a small trim five foot woman, so it was easy for the two other men to lift me off my bed and strapped me firmly on a gurney, and draped me with sheets. The third warned me to remain silent, if I wanted to survive. The man dressed in black had a large dark wool scarf wrapped over his other hand, and I suspected a weapon was wrapped in that scarf. I saw no one in the halls; it was if the entire hospital was sleeping, except us.

I didn’t say a word to the men, just stared up at the other two men dressed in hospital scrubs, trying to use will power my mind to remember their faces, and the third – tall gaunt man wearing a black suit, dark sunglasses, black necktie and matching hat. He looked like character from a bad 1940s detective movie. But this was the wrong era, today it was the second month of 1980 – and this man looks out of place. The three men rolled my gurney down the hall to the elevator. Inside the large hospital elevator I felt the surge as we dropped several floors.

We entered a cavernous room that looked like a storage area for mixture of medical equipment; I saw three X-ray tables, and four MRI machines and other medical equipment I didn’t recognize. I watched nervously as we approached the last MRI machine, it was a little wider and higher than the others, and I noticed someone had moved the table to the left, allowing the gurney – and me – to be push through the round entrance of MRI machine. The men ducked to enter the MRI machine. To my bewilderment, the wall opened and the three men pushed me through the door into a well lighted hall, and the wall silently closed again.

It was then I felt the sting of an injection needle in my left arm and my heart started racing. My mind struggled to remain awake, and rejected the concept of forced to sleep. I tried to fight off the injection’s solution, it was a powerful drug, almost instantly I felt a little confused and dazed, and in a few seconds more I felt as if I was floating, in my mind I thought the hospital walls were melting around me. My last conscious thought was the Men-In-Black were abducting me from this hospital! God help me, what did I do to deserve being this abduction? And then the nothingness of drugged sleep.

I remember waking up slowly, keeping my eyes closed, calmly listening to the rhythmic clicking of the wheels down the very long underground passage; I opened my eyes and watched as dim overhead lights clicked in and out of view in the narrow corridor ceiling. “What a strange dream,” I thought “I am dreaming of a tunnel, how odd.”

“She’s awaking up Doc, want me to put her back under?” one of men in hospital garb asked.

“No, we are almost there,” the MIB agent mumbled.

In the few seconds it took to utter those few words, I was fully awake and frightened – and I knew this was no dream! I felt the coldness of fear in my chest, and I turned my head to my right, to see the MIB agent tautly sitting beside me. I noticed his sallow skin, the prominent boniness of his face, the hollowed wide cheeks, and the jet-black hair jutting from under his hat, I knew he wore a bad toupee. The two men in hospital scubs looked average in size; the both wore cropped brown hair, and were muscular in build. One man had small brown eyes that were too close to his nose; the others had blue eyes, and had a surgical scar at the base of his throat. Now that I remember the abduction, I wanted to escape the three men sitting only inches away, but I remained strapped down, going underground in a tunnel and only God knows where I’d end up. I didn’t know how long I slept from that injection; it could have been minutes or hours. I turned my head and looked at the 1940s man, “Please, where am I? Where are you taking me?”

I looked at the MIB expecting a response, but said nothing in return; never even indicated he heard my question; he just totally ignored me, as if I didn’t exist.

I took a deep breath and struggled with the braided canvas-like restraint, hoping I could wiggle my hands free, but the straps were sturdy, I had no chance I could escape. I felt the wheels of the electric cart start slowing down, and to my horror I watched a huge grotesque humanoid approach the cart. He wore a copper colored uniform, but just past his wide shoulders I noticed what looked like tan wet leather wings, with thick veins in sight. In shock I couldn’t speak, but just stared at the reptilian face with ridges on his cheekbones, forehead and skull.

“Is this one you told me about Doc? Isn’t she the one from Nevada – the female that have seen our race before?” the reptilian man asked. His voice was raspy and rumbling, with accent was heavy from an unknown language. I couldn’t believe he was so large, it is just a guess but I think he must have been nearly eight feet tall with a barrel chest. He was right, three years ago; in 1977 my son and his friend and I witnessed a reptilian in Nevada.

“She’s the one. I knew you’d want to see this one, she’s been a major headache for us for weeks,” 1940s man replied and took off his dark glasses, cleaning the glass with his handkerchief. He looked up at me and I looked directly into his eyes, suddenly I felt a wave of fear because his entire eyes were black, with no white parts of his eyes, not one section of his large eyes that didn’t gleam a jet black. I don’t know what frightened me more – the reptilian giant or those solid black eyes. The MIB called ‘Doc’ helped me off the gurney and escorted me into a roomy but Spartan room, the furniture was plain, two maple wood library tables, one elongated wood box and a half dozen of padded brown office chairs. Not one picture or documents added interest to the plain drab rock walls, but beige tiles on the floor sparkled from a recent coat of wax, I considered that floor was the most decorative part of the room.

During the long dreary hours I spent in that underground facility, they placed photographs and images and objects on the table in front of me, they never explained why they wanted me to see these items, and they didn’t request comments regarding them. Later, they asked questions about Tom Castello, questions about my family, my children, my sibling and my parents, I never really answered those questions about my family, they already knew all about them. They seemed more interested in intimidating me with comments like rather or not I wanted to survive these questions. To this day, I am not allowed discuss the details regarding the threats or how they threatened me, but I can confirm I was in fear for my life. They warned me to never reveal the details of these questions, or discuss the other bizarre events I witnessed inside that facility. I am not at liberty to confirm or deny the name of the underground facility. They warned me that either I will sign a document they had already prepared for me, or I will never again see the blue skies of the surface of Earth.

I noticed the paper alleged to witnessed by “my personal physician” – at least that is what the document stated, but I do not know that “doctor,” and never met him in my life; he wasn’t even one of the three men that abducted me. The reptilian humanoid stayed in the room the entire session, but he did not question me. Once or twice men wearing the same copper uniforms glanced into the room or hesitated a few seconds at the door, but didn’t enter the room.

I was thirsty, hungry and tired, but they three men, the 1940’s man called Doc and two other MIB in suits questioned me. They were the only three people in suits, everyone else wore uniforms. I was supplied a warmer uniform rather than my thin nightgown, for that, I was grateful.

The two men in scrubs from the hospital may or may not be workers in that hospital, after they took me from the hospital room and transported me to this underground facility in a western state, I never saw them again.

These three MIB questioned me about Tom Castello, and demanded answers, sometimes they threatened to kill me, or even worse, to silence me – medically. Being maimed or tortured is enough to strike fear in your heart, I didn’t know exactly ‘how’ they meant to silence me, but before that 24 hour session ended, and I fully understood what he meant.

Being at least slightly intelligent, I offered to trade my information for their information, I didn’t really wanted any information they might have, I just said it in an effort to buy time, to find a way to get out of this abduction alive, because they were getting angry with me. I kept telling them I didn’t know anything – and they knew better. They partially agreed to trade, mostly to find out what I wanted. Without hesitation asked for the ultimate truth – the Secret of Secrets – who are the ancient gods and who are the aliens that float through Earth’s skies.

It took them about 15 minutes for them to clear the information I demanded – the UFO truth – then they carried a thick Manila envelope in his hands, the MIB said “ok, I’ve got the information in my hands, now you tell me what I want – where is Tom Castello and how do you contact him?” I looked at him, and laughed – you can be very certain he didn’t my laughter one bit.

I freely admit I was frightened, it was a faked laughter, but I didn’t want them have the satisfaction of knowing I was terrified, “Oh please, I promise you I was not born yesterday, and that is a very weak and pitiful trick. I told you I would trade for information, I didn’t say ‘you lie to me, and I’ll believe anything.’ You better get serious gentlemen, because I am not going to fall for that worn out trick.” I folded my arms against my chest and then added, “You know all about me – so you know I am natural psychic, when you tell me the truth, I will know it, and if you know try to trick me, I’ll never tell you a thing.”

The three men mumbled together quietly for a few minutes near the door of the room, but they knew I was dead serious, they knew I was born psychic and can see the colors of human aura. They knew I would know if they lie, because their aura turns the color a muddy reddish brown and the outer edges of the aura gets tinged with a sickening pea green when someone lies.

They decided to tell me – all of it, and looking back on that event, I truly wish they didn’t tell me anything. But you can’t “unheard” things you heard, once you know something, there is no way you can pretend you didn’t know. For the rest of your life you must be responsible for that knowledge.

In this case, the MIB agent just opened up and told me the ultimate horrid truth. For the next hour they talked about the horrifying truth and I felt sick to my stomach, betrayed spiritually, and angry. The more I learned, the more upset I felt. I didn’t want to hear any more, I wished I never heard it – but it is too late, know I do know. Everybody claims they want to know it all – but when you learn all of it – you wish you could go back in time and unlearn it.

Everything I thought was true facts – was dead wrong. Evil was good and good was evil, and every aspect of this life is a joke.

The MIB agent placed a bible on the table and opened one or two references in the spiritual book, offering to prove his words. I closed the book.

I wanted to escape the bitter truth – now that I learned the truth, I didn’t want to hear it. I turned on the MIB agent, lashed out like a wild animal. I slapping him, the other men grabbed me and I pushed them away, and took off running down a long hallway. I knew they’d catch me, because there is no way out, but still I felt the need to calm my mind a little. I needed to digest the disturbing information they told me. I know I asked for the ultimate truth, but I didn’t know that horrid truth, I thought it was strictly information about aliens – the secret of the aliens. I was wrong. I ran as fast as my short legs would move, but after a few minutes two men caught me from a side door, and escorted me back to back to the first room.

I was surprised when they gave me a glass of cool water and allowed me to rest for a few minutes, thinking silently. When I rested a few minutes, the man they called ‘Doc’ told me they knew how I felt, and that everybody feels that way when they learn the truth. They almost seemed sympathetic towards me. They refilled my glass of water, and let me just sit there for a few more minutes, and then they wanted Tom’s information. I looked at the MIB agent and I sipped the water, and then replied – “Look, I’m sorry but I don’t have any information about Tom. I kept telling you over and over, but you don’t want that answer.” That was a fact, they didn’t like it one bit.

Once again, they tried to warn me, to threaten me, kill me, or worse, to maim me and other frightening tactics. I stayed firm and repeating the same thing, Tom left, I haven’t seen him since early December 1979. They tried getting loud and when the more they yelled, the quieter I got, after a heated hour or so, I refused to talk at all. They injected something into my arm to force me to talk – but instead of making me talk, it made me vomit, and I still didn’t talk. They gave me “one more chance” (as they called it) I was exhausted, had nothing in my stomach except that one glass of water, and they had removed me from the hospital almost 23 hours ago. I felt the urgent need for sleep and food.

“Cherry, I can keep you here in this base, or release you try to cooperate with me,” Doc said.

“I’ve never said these words to anyone Doc, but you go straight to hell.”

“I gave you a chance – I rarely do that – but you had to be unreasonable. For the rest of your life you will regret your lost chance. You will remember this for the rest of your life Cherry, but you will never tell one about it.”

He sat in his chair staring at the floor for a few more seconds and then nodded his head, gestured to a table nearby and three men again strapped me down on a gurney again. I said nothing while they injected an amber liquid into my left arm. Once again I saw lights melting and then blackness.

I heard the sound of crisp steps walking near my bed and with an effort, I opened my eyes, I knew they returned me the hospital, and I judging from the large room with filled several beds, this must be a recovery room.

The nurse stood beside me and it was obvious she ask a question. I looked up at her and I knew she was she was speaking to me, but I couldn’t understand her words. I glanced around wondering if they MIB placed me in a foreign hospital, but nurse’s words were more than just a different language – it appeared she were uttering total gibberish. I attempted to reply to her, but I seemed to have forgotten how to speak, I was astonished. I tried a few more times, but each time all I managed to so be moan or groan, not one clear word. I could think clearly, but no words.

Using my left hand I searched around in the sheets trying to find my right hand, it was numb, and couldn’t feel it at all. I thought it had fallen asleep and was numb, but when I finally managed to pull my right hand and arm onto my chest, it felt like a heavy log. I rubbed my arm trying to coax feeling into my arm and hand, but after a few more minutes I felt a sinking fear in my heart and I knew my right arm didn’t work. The fear magnified when I attempted to move my right leg, and it didn’t respond at my efforts to turn and sit up. Quietly, desperation took over and I cried like a baby for the first time in many years. By then, I knew I had suffered a major stroke, and I know it was from the hand of the MIB.
A few hours later, after I recovered from my sudden storm of tears, I managed to pull my right leg to the edge of the bed, and I attempted to stand up and walk to the sink, it was in sight, just a few seven or eight feet away. I needed to wash my face, in hope it might clear my thoughts and the hope the little walk might do wonders, and restore my worthless right limbs. I stood up carefully, took one step and felt my body collapse to the floor. I felt like a limp ragdoll, and another wave of fear hit me when I discovered I was on the floor and had no way to get up. I inched towards the bed, hoping I could use the bed to help pull myself up and get back in bed. I tried to get up, but I couldn’t get up.

I don’t know how long I stayed laid on the floor, it felt like a long time, hoping someone would come and help me. I dozed a few times on the cold hard floor, but I could only turn flat on my back, or try to sit up, but I couldn’t get back onto the bed. I was weak, and dizzy and starting to shake from the cold floor. Finally I heard someone enter the room to bring my evening meal. He placed the tray on the table and left, in another minute or so, he and another attendant and together helped me get off the floor and into bed.

I was aware, fully aware, but couldn’t speak, and couldn’t understand anyone. I found out I wouldn’t read or write either. I remember Doc’s warning that I would regret my chance to give him the information. I knew I was in grave danger, but I couldn’t speak, couldn’t walk, and I suspected Doc was still watching me.

The next few days were just a blur, and they kept me drugged, and what was worse, they put me in a strange room, a room hidden off a broom closet. I don’t expect everyone to believe this; looking back it still horrifies me remembering that bizarre room, I can only testify that everything is 100% just as I claim it.

That hospital room looked like something from a science fiction movie, with two way cameras with a small monitor screen beside my bed and overhead rods with hand grasp levers to help me move position. I rarely saw anyone, only when meals arrived. Later, when I was able to speak and ask questions, I found out I was missing from that hospital for 23 hours, and they claimed I left during the night, without telling one. The nurses claimed they searched for me in the hospital, and after not finding me, they assumed I left. What is worse, they decided I left on my own, and were baffled when they found me in the recovery room. When they found me in the recovery room, I couldn’t say a word, and I couldn’t understand the words of the medical team. I wanted to explain I had been abducted, I no way to communicate what happened.

I stayed there nine more days, I would have been longer because the medical facility told my family I had checked out, and no one knew exactly what happened to me. My teenage son, Marc, refused to give up and kept looking for me. Even after the hospital claimed I left, Marc searched for me in every room, and finally noticed a broom closet, through the glass door window if the janitors broom supply room, Marc saw another door and on the door it claimed “private” – he entered that room and found me. Quickly, he got my things together, helped me dressed and sneaked me out of the hospital. I’m alive today because my son – at age 15, drove over 80 miles in a borrowed car and refused to believe I left the hospital willingly.