Area 51

My grandfather was a journalist. He was a very interesting person. Every single meal, get-together, or even a casual conversation, he always had an interesting story or event he had lived.

He was always very eager to tell us his stories, and I was delighted to hear him speak. He was such a storyteller and made you immersed in the story very easily.

Although some of his stories would sometimes seem very unrealistic because I found them very risky or very extreme, and I would always ask myself how is he still alive? The marks on his body would confirm such anecdotes. However, he had one specific mark on his neck, covering a great part of his shoulder as well. It was a very big, and prominent mark. He never really told us the story behind it and would dodge our questions by telling a simple story, sometimes even changing it without noticing it. I knew those stories weren’t real. I could tell the story behind that mark was something he didn’t want to talk about, and because of that, it was a long time since I asked him about it for the last time. I didn’t want to frustrate him with the same question over and over when it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it. Until last week at my aunt’s birthday party.

That particular day, the mark looked very prominent, more than usual. He likes to wear turtle neck shirts to cover as much of it as he can, but it was a very hot evening in the middle of July, and the temperature was very high, so it was understandable he decided to break his usual dress code that day.

We decided to go outside to get some fresh air before it got completely dark, and continue the party for a bit longer basking in the beauty of the sunset. A small cloud covered what looked like a full moon, creating an amazing view of the landscape and sky.

After enjoying some time of dancing, a funny show, and jokes provided by my spirited, drunk uncles, we decided to go inside where the air conditioner awaited. The sun had hidden behind the mountains and it was a bit dim now. I noticed my grandfather didn’t follow us. He didn’t move a muscle. He was very quiet, lost in his thoughts. I decided to stay with him instead. He smiled at me when saw me coming and invited me to pull a chair and take a seat next to him.

Something about him seemed different. Under the contrast of the light from what I could now see was, indeed, a very large and bright full moon, the mark on his neck had a thicker texture. It was clearly swollen and red, to the point it looked more like an actual wound than a scar. I asked him if it was hurting and if he needed some ointment so I could go inside and get it for him. He just waved my suggestion aside with his hand gesturing for me to stay seated.

But then I noticed his body also looked different, it seemed slightly bigger. Even his voice was somewhat different.

After a brief conversation, I found a way to ask him about his neck mark one more time. Even though I had empathy for him, my curiosity over these years never went away. And this time, I finally made him talk. He told me he always wanted to avoid that story since it marked him very badly. Though I already knew this–or at least suspected it–I didn’t want to make any comments and just let him talk.

This is what he told me:

***

It was 1972, just a couple of years after NASA had sent the first men to the moon. Of course, the Soviet Union, not content with that, threatened to come up with something bigger. While it was a big hit that propelled the U.S. miles ahead in the Space Race, they knew the Soviet Union wouldn’t leave it at that.

The U.S. government had a lot of plans, and extensive research was being conducted on different fields of science. Among all those experiments, there was one, one which I got to witness and, until this day, I still have nightmares about it, as well as this huge mark you can see.

The U.S. Bio Research Institute was conducting a highly-classified experiment, but they wanted to document it. The company I was working for–one of the most important ones at that time–was chosen by the institute for that purpose, and after a quick meeting, I was the one chosen to visit the facilities. I must say I was very excited about this, very naive about what was about to see too. Needless to say that they never told us what it was all about. They didn’t even give us time to prepare. They only sent the request hours before with little explanation and expected a quick and simple yes-or-no answer.

The plan was that if the experiment was successful, they would make it public, and with this, the U.S. would be crowned the indisputable superpower, making it practically impossible for the Soviet Union to compete. If it failed, it was not going to see daylight and was destined to remain in the top-secret archives of the U.S. for eternity.

The laboratory was very impressive, something completely out of this world. How could technology like this ever exist? I would ask myself over and over at every hall I walked through, at every room I passed by, and see the out-of-this-world machines, among other weird artifacts. Not even to this day have I ever seen something similar.

The laboratory was very wide, but not too deep. Its design was slick and minimalist, with fluorescent lights that bathed the entire room there was not a shadow in that place. The floor, ceiling, and walls, everywhere you looked, gleamed white. It had an incredible futuristic design.

After waking up from the impression I was in, I noticed about five or six scientists gathered around a shirtless guy in the middle of the room. They were adjusting some cabled gadgets attached to his body. This man was the biggest man I have seen in my life. He was very tall, maybe seven feet two or three inches if I had to guess, and with big muscles everywhere. 

After some instructions were given to this man, and after the lead scientist interchanged some words with who seemed to be a General, the scientists stepped back and, from the ceiling, something started descending over the big man who stayed still in his position. Four metallic railings, spread open on the ceiling were coming together as the whole structure descended, forming what I could now see was a cage. They were caging this man.

I was instructed to prepare my stuff and get to recording as soon as I was ready. I did.

Some other scientist hurried toward the end of the room, started typing something on a computer-looking thing and we were presented with the final act of what had already been the most impressive show up until that moment, building anticipation for the main event: the lights went off, and the ceiling slowly started opening, letting the light from the outside drift in. When it was completely open, the source of such an amount of light was finally revealed. It was the largest, most savage, and reddest moon I had ever seen. It was right on top of us. Embracing the huge desert. Embracing the laboratory. Embracing all of us.

The lead scientist instructed the others to do some final adjustments, then proceeded to press a couple of buttons before pulling a lever down.

What I was about to witness was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, and it still gives me goosebumps whenever I think about it: the man started levitating, not by his own power, but with the help of the machines he was attached to. As he hovered in mid-air, he started shaking and his body started to get bigger and bigger. When this horrid process, which seemed to last for an agonizing minute, finished and he set his feet back to the floor, he was clearly bigger. His facial structure had changed as well, and his facial features were more prominent. What caught my attention the most were his eyes. They were blue; a vibrant phosphorescent blue that glowed with a strange, self-emanating brightness.

He was not a human being anymore. He went from being a very tall, muscular man to a giant beast.

Everybody stayed quiet, contemplating this newborn creature. He didn’t say anything either, just moved his head up and down, left and right, like trying to recognize the place he was in. Hesitantly, and with cautious distance–or so he thought–the lead scientist got closer. He mentioned the man’s name. The man, looking confused and a bit startled, responded saying he was now ready to follow orders. Yes, just like that. I am ready to follow orders. His voice was incredibly deeper. When he spoke, the room reverberated. But the man seemed submissive. I could tell he had received some training before and knew what he was there for. 

The lead scientist told him something I could not make out. Perhaps it was a code to check his consciousness and memory after the transformation. The man responded with what I assumed was the correct answer because all the scientists started applauding and shaking hands with one another, thinking the experiment had been successful. The tense and prepared soldiers, who had been clutching their rifles in anticipation of an unexpected outcome, relaxed and joined the scientists in celebrating. It was a moment of celebration, and everybody had a smile on their faces, including me even though I didn’t know what the hell was going on.

The horror started when, as the lead scientist was turning to face the small crowd, the creature, with an evident over-human speed, managed to slide its thick arm between the rails, grabbed the scientist by the neck, and squeezed it so hard–with that over-human strength it now possessed–that the scientist’s head just popped out like nothing. The creature snarled. Its teeth were long and sharp, like those of a predator. Its canines jutted out, and the rest of its teeth had become pointed and jagged.

The creature got extremely aggressive and relentlessly tried to break through the rails. It wanted to escape. The General ordered his men to open fire, and they started shooting at the beast which did nothing but fuel the anger that drove it to break free from the cage

When it succeeded, the first thing it did was reach for one of the scientists, lifting him with both hands, and then it started tearing into his abdomen, devouring his guts. It repeated similar attacks. I was paralyzed. It didn’t target me, though; otherwise, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now. It charged straight toward the source of the bullets, attacking fiercely and swinging its heavy hands. Among all those attacks and fast swings it was throwing, it got to scratch me with its sharp, long nails–if you could still call them nails, for they were more like claws now.

The ceiling, as slowly as it had opened, started closing, until there was finally no more light. The attacks ceased, and when the lights of the laboratory were back on, the creature was kneeling, looking tired and weak.

The last thing I remember from that place was some type of gas being released, and saying my prayers as I started to fall into a deep sleep.

A couple of days later, I woke up in a bed in a hospital. There were two agents. They were straight in their demands: I was not supposed to say anything. They didn’t make me sign any papers but were very clear about what was going to happen if I said anything to anyone. It was going to be my problem whatever silly story I had to make up to cover this up. They knew how to play the psychological game very well.

In the following years in that same decade, the event that had largely faded from public attention: the conspiracy theories on the Roswell incident and UFOs, started to be brought up in the media again. I knew it was not a coincidence. I knew it was a tactic by the government to neutralize whatever some of the people who were present that night could say. I understood that whatever I could say now wouldn’t matter. It was simply going to fall under the category of fantasy or added to the long list of conspiracy theories that mostly teenagers or uneducated people gave importance to. Whatever I could say at that point wouldn’t have been believable. I was going to sound silly and crazy at the same time. That easily and effectively they were able to suppress any rumor we could’ve started spreading out.

***

He finished his story and reclined his head backward into the chair, taking breaths of relaxation. I didn’t dare to say anything. I didn’t know what to think about it. My grandfather was a man who would not mess around. Jokes and sarcasm were not his thing. He was always literal and serious in his talking. However, this story seemed more than unreal. So many questions flew through my head.

He noticed my doubtful and awkward silence, and with his eyes still closed and his head relaxed into the back of the chair he calmly asked: “You don’t believe me, do you?”

I got nervous at his question. I certainly didn’t believe it to a hundred percent, but it was my grandfather, and I knew he was being serious about it. “I-I d-don’t know what to think, gramps, is there–”

“You know, son, even though the government invented all this silly crap about UFOs and shit to cover what is really happening in that place, they didn’t think of something. They didn’t think that the attack I received that night would leave me another type of mark, besides this obvious one you can see on my neck and shoulder.”

“W-What do you mean, grandpa?”

He leaned forward, faced me, and I could see his eyes for the first time during the whole story, accompanied by a grin. Under the dark of the night and the light of the giant moon which was now on top of us, his eyes were a vibrant phosphorescent blue that glowed with a strange, self-emanating brightness. His teeth were a bit longer and sharper, his canines jutted out, and the rest of his teeth had become pointed and jagged.