8-Abductee

8-Abductee

Rascal, the Jack Russell terrier lay there comatose as though he was either dead or in some kind of suspended animation. If you know anything about Jack Russell’s they are anything but still.
Harriet was a school teacher, as was her mother and her grandmother. The second grade was her position at the towns elementary school. She liked her work and took great pride in shaping the minds of tomorrow.
The old alarm clock set for 6:30 moved its minute hand to read 1:37 and then stopped. The ticking stopped as did the large old grandfather clock with its massive pendulum hanging limp devoid of any movement. “That clock never stopped running since my grandmother willed it to us some eleven years ago,” she would later say. That clock would never run right again. You could start it up but two or three hours later it would just stop.
She didn’t notice Rascal as she passed by him lying on the floor in the living room. Is a matter of fact she didn’t notice anything in the room at all, even though you had to avoid furniture like it was an obstacle course just to pass through. Her arms hung by her side and her eyes were glassy though she never blinked, not even once since she was summoned from the warmth of her bed laying there next to her husband. He didn’t wake when she silently arose and donned her nightgown and went down the stairs.
There were no lights or whirling or whooshing sounds coming from the bluish glowing interior of the craft as she met the four foot tall greeter standing in the field next to the farmhouse. Though the long fingers with their soft yet cool to the touch feel gripped her forearm as she ascended the extended platform angled down to the ground. She didn’t need any help, but she didn’t pull away either.
Once inside she was led to a soft padded bench and intuitively understood from deep inside her thinking where the incessant chatter of self talk takes place she was to sit down here and wait. She waited while they prepared a small table with small shiny instruments next to a long wide table with a white sheet hanging almost to the floor.
No pain ever accompanied the probing and procedures though she remained awake in a quasi-conscious state for the duration of tests. There was no chatter or conversation between the beings in attendance surrounding her lying on the table. They did emanate a feeling of comfort and warmth that seemed to come from them and well up inside her much like a nurse would try to do for her if she were lying in a hospital bed after a lengthy operation.
The craft made no sound and was invisible to the naked eye as it hung hovering a thousand or fifteen hundred feet above the country side where her and her husbands farm lie below.
At twelve minutes after 3 AM the tests were concluded and all samples were safely stored in their silver cylinder capsules and placed in the cabinet above the table where Harriet was lying. As the long fingers took ahold of her hand and the beings other hand placed in the small of her back she sat up and stepped back down to the floor of the craft. Instructed once again telepathically to take a seat on the padded bench and wait there for her return home, she obeyed. There is no rebellion in this trance like state she heard her self-talk whisper. When she did one of the beings whirled around and stared at her. It was an uncomfortable stare but she couldn’t respond. She remained silent for the rest of the flight.
A loud crack and deafening screeching sound was coming from the craft and the floor seemed to fall out from under everyone in the space she occupied. Then the craft tilted and the explosion ripped through the fuselage and sparks flew everywhere as the lights flashed bright green then turning to brilliant blue and then red. The lights went out and all you could see was the sparks in the black interior of the craft as it ripped it’s seams and dug into the earth as it skidded to a stop.
The hissing sounds of the hot fuselage continued for hours. There was no movement on the ship and finally after the sun peaked over the tree line, the wreckage was silent half sticking out of the chard field where it came to rest in a surprise makeshift grave.
Harriet opened the front door to her house and walked in. Rascal greeted her hopping up and down several times before getting bored and went back to his favorite spot on the rug in front of the fireplace. There was no fire as it was July and much too warm for the fireplace.
She made coffee and scrambled some eggs with onions and potatoes. Rascal went outside to do his business and came back in to eat a healthy Jack Russell breakfast of cooked chicken, sweet potatoes and rice. After gobbling down his food he just stood and watched Harriet from a distance. This was not like Rascal at all. He always curled up next to her feet while she stood at the stove cooking something. He just walked away.
Her husband came down for breakfast and planed to work the farthest eastern field but with the storms that just came through one of the barns had experienced some roof damage. As he made his way through the living room he noticed the old grandfather clock stopped at 1:37. He opened the door and gave the pendulum a little nudge and it started it’s familiar tick-tock-tick-tock.
The dreams started about a year later and with all the buzz in the news about a space craft crash landing in a field not far from their farm, just down the road is a matter of a fact, Harriet chalked it up as just the power of suggestion from watching the news of the crash.
Then at the nudging from her sister she went to a dream therapist to recount the dreams and the coincidence of the time in the dreams and the time the clocks stopped at 1:37 AM on July 4th 1947.
Everything was there in the transcript recorded during her hypnosis. From the leaving of her house and meeting up with the alien that escorted her up and into the spacecraft, To the tests conducted and even the crystal clear recount of the crash. Then there was an hour or so she went blank and then picked back up as she opened the front door to her house and Rascal greeting her and breakfast was all still intact.
Nothing more was said about the incident.
It’s been three years now since the whole ordeal and as my memory has slowly integrated with hers, it has become clear my mission in all of what transpired was to propagate the race and find a way to reproduce not only a new body but a soul.
You see my colony, the only one to survive on my planet after the meteor hit and brought the virus that mutated and killed everyone, were the only beings to escape. We cannot progress any further in evolution without a soul. We can reproduce by cloning and we have become adept in that science, but this is where we have been stuck for over a hundred thousand years. The people of earth have this ability and we needed to learn to create a soul.
I am the first of our race to have successfully cloned her DNA into my body and shape shifted to a human form to become Harriet Stanford from Roswell New Mexico. I won’t know if I have been able to replicate a soul till the time comes and I die from this body.
My message to the people of earth, we came in peace trying to survive.