Story 14
A Story About Seeing a Mysterious Alien?
This happened when I was in the second grade of elementary school.
During summer vacation, I stayed for about two weeks at my grandparents’ house in the countryside. The main reason was that my grandparents owned a large chestnut orchard deep in the mountains. In one corner, they had about ten sawtooth oak trees planted, and every night while I was staying there, my grandmother and I would go out to catch rhinoceros beetles. For reference, the orchard was about a 15-minute drive from their house.
That day, as usual, around midnight, we took the light truck and went out to collect beetles.
About thirty minutes after we began searching, we were looking not only at the sawtooth oaks but also at the numerous chestnut trees around them — there were so many we couldn’t count them all — because beetles sometimes gathered there too.
Normally, we’d catch at least two beetles or stag beetles right away. But that night there weren’t any — not just beetles, but hardly any moths, flies, or wasps either, which were usually abundant. Looking back now, it was a strange night.
After about an hour, my grandmother said maybe we should give up for today. Honestly, I was tired too, so I agreed, and we started heading back along the path we’d come.
As we walked through the vast orchard, still keeping an eye out for beetles just in case, something moved between two chestnut trees about five minutes later, caught in the beam of my flashlight. Curious, I walked closer.
What I saw was gray, kind of like concrete in color. It had an elongated head with no neck, rounded arm-like things attached to its sides, and no legs — it looked like it was sitting on some sort of base. Its vertically long eyes were glowing whitish. I didn’t know what it was, but I was sure it was alive.
I froze in shock. My grandmother noticed it too and screamed, “Gyaaaaaa!”
At that moment, the thing made a strange noise — something like “nyamu-nyomu-nyam-nyam.”
I stared at it, but my grandmother snapped back to her senses, grabbed my hand, and we ran, making a wide detour around it to get back to the truck.
Even after we got home, my grandmother was breathing heavily and carefully locked every door. We went to bed, and from that day on, we never went beetle hunting together again.
My grandmother passed away from illness just after I started working as an adult, but she remembered that incident right up until the end. So it wasn’t just some childhood dream of mine.
It’s been more than 30 years since then, but if anyone knows what that could have been, I’d like to hear it.
By the way, ever since that incident, I’ve had occasional experiences with the occult.
