XPI Senior UFOlogist, Paul Nordstom, relates his many attempts at becoming an extraterrestrial abductee.
I want to be abducted by aliens.
I want to be taken aboard an extraterrestrial space craft, a “UFO”, if you will, and I want to experience, first hand, what so many alien abductees have, and continue to, experience.
I fully realize that there is nothing pleasant about an alien abduction.
Through personally interviewing hundreds of alien abductees, I know that the experience is anything but fun.
It’s terrifying to be taken against your will, paralyzed, and surrounded by speechless beings with pale grey skin and large, black eyes that stare through you as if they read your every thought. It is painful to be subjected to their scientific experiments.
More than 95% of abductees that I have interviewed reported months of sleepless nights (they were afraid to sleep in case they woke up in an extraterrestrial space ship once again.)
A number of abductees exhibit symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
And there is the pain — body aches, strange sores, blisters, and burn marks that appear on the skin at sites where the extraterrestrial entities performed experiments.
I interviewed one man who reported that he has experienced chronic pain in his limbs ever since that one night he was taken aboard in 2011. (Despite the popularity of the “alien implant” claim, I have yet to retrieve or even find an implant device from any of the abductees I have interviewed.)
So why would I want to put myself through this ordeal? It’s simple.
I want to have contact with extraterrestrials.
I want to see them with my own eyes.
I want to see the inside of an extraterrestrial space craft.
I’ll share some of the schemes that I’ve cooked up to put myself in the best possible scenario to have this experience.
I have investigated UFO sightings and alien abduction accounts for more than 20 years. It was my destiny.
Born and raised in the epicenter of UFO-culture — Roswell, New Mexico — I was surrounded by extraterrestrial lore. I spent countless nights during my teen years cruising isolated back roads in search of strange lights hovering in the night sky.
Even as a kid, I kept a notebook where I recorded any UFO sighting I heard of, and eventually, began logging my own sightings. Night after night, I’d stand in my parent’s back yard, binoculars firmly pressed to my eyes as I scanned the heavens, ignoring their agitation over my refusal to to go bed.
I am as obsessed with UFOs and extraterrestrials now than I was as a kid. That passion stems from an insatiable curiosity I have about what might be “out there”. I want to understand, to not just believe, but to know. And part of knowing is to experience, first hand.
Flagging Down UFOs In The Desert
My first attempt at getting myself abducted was half-assed. I was UFO-watching in the desert outside Sedona, Arizona and I spotted a trio of lights in the night sky. They moved in unison with each other and I soon realized that what I was watching wasn’t three separate objects, but one single, triangular object with a single light at each point.
I hollered and waved my arms as I ran toward the object. It hovered in the sky about a quarter mile from where I stood. I took off across the desert, tearing my pants and skin on cacti, stumbling over rocks. I was terrified, and at the same time I was overcome with excitement over the prospect of being taken aboard.
The object hovered in the sky, then rotated 90 degrees. Then it shot to the left about 1000 feet, then shot straight up into the sky with incredible speed. Once I realized that it was gone, I collapsed on the desert floor, battered and bleeding, my chest heaving (let’s just say that I was not exactly in the best shape of my life at the time).
A couple dozen times after that I basically threw myself in front of any UFO I saw, screaming and hollering like a mad man in the desert, desperately seeking the attention from whoever, or whatever, piloted that craft.
That tactic never worked. The craft always disappeared before I could get close to it.
Camping Out In Crop Circles
I changed tactics after I drove to Montana in 1999 to investigate a rash of crop circles that formed overnight in some corn fields. When more appeared in adjacent fields the following night, I got the brilliant idea to camp out in the fields overnight, hoping that I might prove to be an enticing victim.
The very next night, I camped right in the center of a crop circle that had formed in the same field that one had formed the night before. I didn’t even pitch a tent. I stayed up most the night keeping watch with binoculars and camera. When it got so cold that I couldn’t move my fingers, I zipped myself into my sleeping bag and drifted off. Unfortunately, I didn’t see a single UFO that night.
Much to my chagrin, a fresh new crop circle appeared in a field about a mile down the road overnight. I headed out there after breakfast that morning, took pictures and recorded the scene in my notebook. By then, the area was crawling with UFOlogists and paranormal investigators.
I decided to spend another night out in a field, but this time, I decided to hunker down in an untouched field across the highway from the one with the fresh crop circle.
It was September, so the corn was over my head, narrowing my view of the night sky. This was no corn maze with wide paths cut into it. I was surrounded by corn stalks, many of which were up against my back, my chest, my sides. It would have driven a claustrophobe crazy.
The corn protected me from the wind that night, but it was still cold. After shivering all night with no sightings, I finally zipped myself into my sleeping bag at about 5:30 am and dozed off for a couple hours. (I slept on my side, in between rows of corn so as not to destroy any of my kind host’s crop.)
I was frustrated when I woke up that morning and not more than 300 yards away, was a small-diameter crop circle that had formed overnight.
I spent that fourth night driving up and down the roads, scanning for UFOs. I saw nothing, and by dawn, I got the word that no crop circles had formed overnight. I stayed for another three nights until it became apparent that this crop circle flap was over. I drove back to New Mexico in despair (but with a LOT of really cool crop circle photos, and a much better understanding of the phenomenon).
Becoming An Serial Abductee’s Roommate
Then I met “Brad” (not his real name). Brad was a serial abductee who lived in a suburb north of Lincoln, Nebraska. A colleague of mine referred Brad to me.
Brad was an ordinary guy. I knew instantly that he was not some wackjob nut (you meet a lot of them in this business).
He was a truck driver who lived alone. He had no history of mental illness, and lived a rather ordinary life. He was a church-going man of strong conviction.
This was a man who didn’t mess around or play games. He was anything but an attention seeker (I practically begged him to let me interview him, that’s how reluctant he was to talk to me, but he wanted answers about his experiences, and that desire eroded away at the walls of privacy he usually kept around him).
Brad’s first abduction had occurred a year before. Then he was abducted again six months later, then again a month after that. Then again the previous week. I had offered to meet with him before and he just wanted to chat with me on the phone.
Four weeks later, I got a call from him. He had been brought aboard an extraterrestrial craft during the past two nights in a row. I finally convinced him to let me meet him, and when he agreed to it, I immediately jumped in my car and I drove up to his home in Nebraska.
The abduction experience had become routine for him, and he didn’t exhibit the same level of agitation that first-time (and usually one-time) abductees experience. He was scared, of course. He was reluctant to go through it again, but had resigned himself to the possibility.
When I asked him why he thought he was abducted so regularly, he didn’t have an answer. In fact, he didn’t remember the details of most of the abductions after the first one.
He remembered being woken up in the middle of the night, unable to move or speak. Then he felt (and saw) himself lifted off his bed and surrounded by “grey” extraterrestrials. One individual looked into his eyes and everything went black. When he woke up, he’d be in his bed, but often lying on top of his bedspread. It would always be just before dawn.
I asked if I could spend the night at his house. He deliberated for a few minutes, but reluctantly agreed. I crashed on his couch, and talked him into letting me record him with a remote video camera while he slept. He was not abducted that night, and I reviewed the video tape to find that he slept in his bed the entire night.
I spent a second night at his house and when I woke up in the morning, he told me that it had happened again. I reviewed the tape and at 3:58 AM, the night vision on the camera switched off, then the camera itself switched off about 30 seconds later. When the tape resumed, it was 4:17 AM and Brad was laying face down on the bed, above the covers.
He told me that he remembered waking up in the middle of the night to see a tall grey alien leaning over his bed. He said that he blacked out and didn’t remember anything after that.
As was evident on the camcorder, he had not gotten up to disengage the “Night Shot” mode, or turn it off. He didn’t turn the camera back on, either, since he was lying face down on the bed when the camera switched itself back on nearly 20 minutes later.
That night, I slept in his bedroom with a sleeping bag. I insisted that he sleep in his own bed (he had offered to crash on his own couch). I explained to him that it was important that he and I be in the same room. I ran the camcorder and stayed up for most of the night.
We did this for two more nights but there were no further abductions.
Not wanting to overstay my welcome (which I am pretty sure I had done by that point), I left his home with hours and hours of video tape, and no abduction experience.
Brad hasn’t been visited by extraterrestrials since.
So my quest continues. Maybe, for whatever reason, I have not been chosen to be contacted by extraterrestrials. They have their own reasons for doing things, and if I don’t fit into their plan, or I am, for whatever reason, not the specimen they are after, there is nothing I can do to force their hand.
But I won’t stop trying. I won’t stop chasing UFOs and trying to flag them down.
And at the next opportunity, you bet that I will sprint across the desert screaming and waving my arms.
I will camp out in the center of crop circles.
I will lay out my sleeping bag on the floor next to a serial abductee.
I have dedicated my life to the study of extraterrestrials and extraterrestrial visitation, and I want nothing more than to make contact, to see them with my own two eyes, to stare into the vague opacity of their jet black eyes and ponder at what lies behind them.
Paul Nordstrom is a senior UFOlogist with Xpara Investigations International. He also dabbles in haunting investigations and cryptid research. He lives in Roswell, New Mexico and frequently travels with the XPI team on expeditions worldwide. (This story is fiction.)