BWBS Ep:150 The Taking

Tonight’s episode shares one of the most detailed and disturbing alien abduction accounts ever recorded — the story of Marcus, a man forever changed by a childhood encounter in rural Minnesota in 1994. What began as a single night of terror evolved into decades of systematic visitation and transformation, revealing an agenda that challenges everything we know about the UFO phenomenon.

Marcus’s experiences defy explanation. From paralysis and levitation into a silent craft hovering above the pines to his eventual role as an “interface” between human and post-human consciousness, his testimony offers unprecedented insight into the purpose behind abductions.

A trained electrical engineer, Marcus spent years trying to rationalize his encounters, documenting physical evidence including an unexplained implant and altered biological markers.He describes a vast hybrid program, introducing beings engineered to bridge humanity and something beyond — entities that may already walk among us, preparing for what they call The Convergence. 

His accounts of knowledge downloads, advanced mathematics, and shared memories suggest a disturbing truth: these visitors may not be extraterrestrials at all, but evolved humans ensuring their own survival through time. Whether you believe his story or not, Marcus’s account forces us to confront profound questions about consciousness, evolution, and the future of our species.Listener discretion is advised. This is not just an abduction story — it’s a revelation that blurs the line between horror, prophecy, and human destiny.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:02):
For decades, people have disappeared in the woods without a trace.
Some blame wild animals, others whisper of creatures the world
refuses to believe in. But those who have survived they
know the truth. Welcome to Backwoods Bigfoot Stories, where we
share real encounters with the things lurking in the darkness bigfoot,

(00:23):
dog man UFOs, and creatures that defy explanation. Some make
it out, others aren't so lucky. Are you ready, because
once you hear these stories, you'll never walk in the
woods alone again. So grab your flashlight, stay close and
remember some things in the woods don't want to be found.
Hit that follow or subscribe button, turn on auto downloads,

(00:46):
and let's head off into the woods if you dare.
They say that memory is a fragile thing, that trauma
can fracture it into a thousand pieces that never quite

(01:08):
fit back together the same way. But I remember everything,
every second, every sensation, every impossible moment that defied everything
I thought I knew about reality. The memories are burned
into my consciousness with a clarity that normal experiences never achieve,
as if whatever they did to me ensured I could

(01:28):
never forget, never dismiss it as nightmare or delusion. My
name is Marcus, and I need you to understand something
before I tell you my story. I am not crazy,
I am not seeking attention. I am not delusional. I
have been examined by psychiatrists, neurologists, and every type of
specialist you can imagine. My brain scans are normal, my

(01:51):
psychological profiles are unremarkable. I hold a steady job as
an electrical engineer. I have a family, though that relationship
has been strained by what I'm about to tell you.
I am, by every measurable standard, a rational and functioning
member of society. But for thirty years they have been
taking me. I was ten years old when it started,

(02:13):
though I now suspect they had been watching me long
before that October night in nineteen ninety four. We lived
in a rural part of northern Minnesota in a house
surrounded by dense pine forests that seemed to swallow sound
and light alike. My bedroom was on the second floor,
a small space with a single window that looked out
over the backyard and into the endless darkness of the

(02:35):
woods beyond. That night began like any other. I had
gone to bed around nine p thirty, Exhausted from a
day of helping my father stack firewood for the coming winter.
The house was quiet, except for the occasional creak of
settling wood and the distant sound of my parents television downstairs.
I remember lying there watching the shadows of tree branches

(02:57):
dance across my ceiling in the moonlight. When every changed,
the first thing I noticed was the silence. Not normal
nighttime quiet, but a complete absence of sound that felt
like pressure against my ear drums. The crickets that had
been chirping moments before were gone. The hum of the
refrigerator downstairs, a constant white noise I had never consciously

(03:19):
noticed until it disappeared, was absent. Even my own breathing
seemed muffled, as if the air itself had become thick
and resistant. Then came the light. It started as a
soft blue glow, seeping through the edges of my window blinds,
pulsing with a rhythm that seemed almost organic. My first
thought was that someone was outside with a flashlight, maybe

(03:42):
my father checking on something in the yard. But the
light was wrong. It didn't behave like any artificial light
I had ever seen. It seemed to pass through solid
objects rather than illuminating them, creating shadows that bent in
impossible directions. I wanted to get up to run to
my parents room, but my body wouldn't respond. I could

(04:03):
move my eyes, but nothing else. The paralysis was complete
and instantaneous, as if someone had simply switched off the
connection between my brain and my muscles. Panic flooded through me,
but even my attempts to scream produced nothing more than
a weak exhalation. The blue light intensified, filling my room
with an ethereal glow that made everything look underwater. And

(04:26):
then I saw them. They didn't enter through the door
or window. They were simply there, three figures, standing at
the foot of my bed, as if they had materialized
from the light itself. Even through my terror, I remember
being struck by how wrong they looked, how every aspect
of their appearance seemed designed to trigger some primal fear

(04:46):
response in the human brain. They were roughly four feet tall,
with oversized heads that seemed too heavy for their thin
necks to support. Their skin was a modeled gray color,
like old newspaper that had been left in the rain.
But it was their eyes that haunted me then and
haunt me, still, massive black orbs that reflected no light,

(05:09):
that seemed to pull you in like twin voids. When
they looked at you, and I mean really looked at you,
it felt like they were reading every thought you had
ever had, every memory you had ever formed, cataloging and
analyzing you like a specimen. The one in the center
raised its hand, and I noticed it had only three fingers,
plus what might have been a thumb, each ending in

(05:31):
what looked like a small suction pad. It made a gesture,
and suddenly I was floating, not flying, not being lifted,
but floating upward, as if gravity had simply stopped applying
to me. My blanket fell away, and I rose toward
my ceiling in my pajamas, helpless and terrified, beyond the
capacity for rational thought. The ceiling didn't stop me. I

(05:53):
passed through it like it was made of mist, feeling
a brief tingling sensation as the solid matter moved through
my body. I could see down into the attic for
a split second, illuminated by that strange blue light. Before
I was through the roof and into the night air.
The cold hit me immediately, the October wind cutting through
my thin pajamas, but the paralysis remained complete. I could

(06:18):
only watch as the ground fell away below me, my
house becoming smaller, the lights of town visible in the
distance like scattered stars that had fallen to earth above me,
blotting out the real stars was something that my ten
year old mind could not process. The craft, if that's
what you want to call it, was massive, easily three

(06:39):
hundred feet across, a dark, metallic disc that seemed to
absorb light rather than reflect it. The surface wasn't smooth,
but covered in what looked like geometric patterns that hurt
to look at directly, as if they existed in more
dimensions than my eyes could perceive. There were no visible windows,
no doors, no engines, nothing that suggested how something so

(07:02):
large could hover silently in the air. As I rose
toward it, a section of the underside began to glow
with that same blue light. The solid metal seemed to
become liquid, creating an opening that I was drawn into.
The moment I passed through, the cold disappeared, replaced by
air that felt thick and humid, with a metallic taste

(07:23):
that coated the back of my throat. The interior was
nothing like the flying saucers from movies. The walls curved
in ways that made no architectural sense, meeting at angles
that seemed to change depending on how you looked at them.
The lighting had no visible source but seemed to emanate
from the air itself, casting no shadows. And the smell God,

(07:45):
the smell like ozone and copper and something organic that
I couldn't identify, something that triggered a revulsion so deep
it felt genetic. I was floating down a corridor that
seemed to stretch impossibly far, the passing doorways that opened
onto rooms filled with things I couldn't understand. In one,
I could see what looked like dozens of glass cylinders

(08:07):
filled with a thick amber fluid. In another, walls covered
in symbols that seemed to move and shift when I
wasn't looking directly at them. And in one terrible moment,
I saw other humans. A woman maybe in her thirties,
unconscious and suspended in some kind of energy field, a
man elderly with tubes connected to various parts of his body,

(08:31):
A child younger than me curled in a fetal position
inside what looked like a transparent sphere. The paralysis broke
When I entered what I can only describe as an
examination room, I collapsed onto a table that seemed to
mold itself to my body, holding me in place without
visible restraints. The three beings from my bedroom were there,

(08:52):
along with two others. One was taller, maybe five feet,
with a more elongated head and fingers that seemed to
have extra joints. This one appeared to be in charge,
moving with a deliberation that suggested authority. They didn't speak,
not with voices, but I could feel their communication, not words, exactly,

(09:12):
but concepts and images that appeared in my mind with
a clarity that made me certain they weren't my own thoughts.
They were curious. That was the overwhelming sense I got.
Not malicious, not cruel, but curious, in the way a
scientist might be curious about a lab rat. The examination
began with the tall one placing its hand on my forehead.

(09:34):
The moment it made contact, my vision exploded into fragments
of memory. Every moment of my life played out simultaneously,
from my earliest memories to that very second. But it
wasn't just reviewing them, It was copying them, downloading them
into some vast consciousness that I could feel at the
edges of my perception. I saw my memories being sorted, categorized,

(09:58):
cross referenced with data I couldn't come prehend. Then came
the physical examination, and this is where my memory becomes fragmented.
Whether from trauma or some intentional suppression, I don't know.
I remember instruments that seemed to be made of light itself,
passing through my body without cutting, but somehow taking samples.
I remember a needle impossibly thin, being inserted into the

(10:21):
base of my skull, and a sensation like ice water
flowing through my brain. I remember screaming or trying to scream,
but no sound coming out. The worst part was the implant.
The tall one produced something so small I could barely
see it, like a grain of rice, but metallic and
covered in tiny filaments that moved on their own. It

(10:43):
showed it to me, letting me see it clearly, wanting
me to know what was happening. Then it pressed it
against the side of my nose and I felt it
burrow in. Not painful exactly, but wrong, fundamentally wrong, like
something violating the boundary between cell health and not self.
Time became meaningless in that room. It could have been minutes,

(11:05):
or hours or days. At some point I became aware
that they were showing me things. Images projected directly into
my mind Earth from space, but not current Earth. I
somehow knew I was seeing the past and future simultaneously.
Cities I didn't recognize, some appearing ancient beyond measure, others

(11:26):
seeming to be built from materials that didn't exist yet
in other worlds, planets with purple skies and crystalline forests,
oceans of liquid methane, deserts of diamond dust. They showed
me humans, but changed, some with enlarged heads like theirs,
others with modifications I couldn't understand. They showed me disasters,

(11:48):
nuclear war, plagues, environmental collapse, and then recovery, evolution, transformation.
They showed me their own world, or what I assumed
their world, a place where the distinction between organic and
technological had ceased to exist, where consciousness moved freely between
biological and artificial substrates. And then they showed me myself,

(12:13):
not as I was, but as I could be, dozens
of potential futures spreading out like branches on a tree.
In some I was explaining what happened to me to
rooms full of people. In others, I was in institutions
labeled insane. In one, I was working with them, though
I couldn't understand in what capacity, And in one terrifying vision,

(12:35):
I was one of them, transformed so completely that nothing
human remained. The images stopped as suddenly as they had begun,
and I found myself being moved again, floating back through
those impossible corridors. But this time I was led to
a different room, one that contained other humans. They were conscious,
but seemed drugged, their movements slow and dream like. A

(12:59):
woman reached out to me, her mouth forming words I
couldn't hear. A teenage boy sat in a corner, rocking
back and forth, his eyes wide with shock. An older
man was examining his own hands, as if he had
never seen them before. We were left there together for
what felt like hours. Sometimes one of the beings would
enter and take someone away, and they wouldn't come back.

(13:22):
Eventually it was my turn again, but this time, instead
of an examination, I was shown something else. They took
me to what I can only describe as an observation deck,
though there were no windows in any traditional sense. Instead,
the walls became transparent, revealing the view outside. We were
in orbit, Earth spinning slowly below us. But it wasn't

(13:45):
just one Earth. I could see multiple versions of it, overlapping,
like double exposures, each slightly different. In one, the lights
of cities covered every land mass. In another, the planet
was dark, lifeless, and yet another the continents themselves were
arranged differently. The tall being stood beside me, and for

(14:06):
the first time I felt something like emotion from it,
not human emotion, but something analogous. It was showing me
this for a reason, trying to communicate something important. The
images in my mind came faster now, concepts about probability
and observation and the nature of reality itself. They were

(14:27):
studying us, yes, but not just us. They were studying
every possible version of us, tracking the trajectories of human
evolution across infinite parallel timelines. We were not just specimens
to them. We were data points in some vast experiment
that spanned dimensions I couldn't comprehend. And the implant they

(14:47):
had put in me it wasn't just a tracking device.
It was a window, a way for them to observe
not just where I was, but which version of reality
I was experiencing. Stay tuned for more Backwoods Bigfoot stories.
We'll be back after these messages. The return to my
bedroom was as sudden as the abduction. One moment I

(15:09):
was standing in that impossible room. The next I was
in my bed, blanket pulled up to my chin, morning
sunlight streaming through my window. I sat up, convinced it
had been the most vivid nightmare of my life until
I felt the small lump beside my nose where the
implant had been inserted. I ran to the bathroom mirror
and could see it, just barely, a tiny ridge under

(15:32):
the skin that hadn't been there before. I tried to
tell my parents, but the words wouldn't come out right.
Every time I started to explain, my throat would close up,
or I would suddenly forget what I was trying to say.
It was as if something was preventing me from communicating
what had happened. I drew pictures instead, obsessively filling notebook

(15:53):
after notebook with sketches of the beings, the craft, the
symbols I had seen. My parents, concerned took me to
a child psychologist, who diagnosed me with night terrors and
an over active imagination, but I knew the truth, and
I knew with a certainty that chilled me to my core,
that they would be back. The second taking came exactly

(16:15):
one year later, October nineteen ninety five, and this time
I was ready for it. I had spent the intervening
months researching everything I could find about UFOs and alien abductions.
This was before the Internet was widely available, so I
relied on books from the library, many of which I
had to special order from other branches. I read Whitley

(16:36):
Strieber's Communion and was shocked by how similar his descriptions
were to my experience. I studied the Betty and Barney
Hill case, the Travis Walton incident, and dozens of other
accounts I had also started preparing. I kept a camera
by my bed, though I would later discover it wouldn't
work when they came. I tried to stay awake every
night in October, dosing myself with caffeine, but exhaustion would

(17:00):
always overtake me at the crucial moment. I even convinced
my older brother to sleep in my room one night,
but he experienced nothing while I was taken from the
bed right beside him. When the paralysis hit that second time,
I recognized it immediately, the same silence, the same blue light,
But this time there was something else. I could feel

(17:22):
them in my mind before they appeared, a presence that
was both alien and increasingly familiar. The three beings materialized
just as before, but this time I noticed details I
had missed in my terror the first time. They moved
with perfect synchronization, like they were parts of a single organism.
Their skin wasn't actually gray, but seemed to shift between

(17:44):
different shades depending on the angle of the light, and
their eyes, those terrible black eyes occasionally showed reflections of
things that weren't in the room, as if they were
windows to somewhere else. The journey to the craft was
the same, but this time I was able to observe more.
I saw that we weren't the only ones being taken.

(18:05):
In the distance, I could see other beams of blue light,
other figures floating upward. The craft itself was even larger
than I had estimated, and there were others. I counted
at least three more, hovering at different altitudes, all engaged
in the same harvest of human subjects. This time, they
took me to a different area of the ship. Instead

(18:26):
of the examination room, I was brought to what seemed
to be a storage facility. The walls were lined with
what looked like filing cabinets, but organic pulsing with a
faint bioluminescence. The tall being from before was there and
it recognized me. I could feel its acknowledgment, almost like
satisfaction that I had returned. It showed me to one

(18:48):
of the cabinet things, and somehow conveyed that this contained
information about me, not just from the past year, but
from before I was born. I saw images in my
mind of my parents being watched, my conception being noted,
my development in the womb being monitored. They had been
preparing for me, for all of us, long before we

(19:08):
were taken the examination. This time was different, less invasive physically,
but more intensive mentally. They seemed to be testing my
responses to various stimuli. They would project images into my
mind and monitor my reactions. Some were benign landscapes and
geometric patterns. Others were horrifying scenes of violence and destruction

(19:31):
that felt so real I could smell the smoke and blood,
and some were incomprehensible concepts and dimensions that my brain
couldn't process, leaving me with a feeling of vertigo that
persisted for weeks. Afterward, they also began what I can
only describe as education. The tall one would touch my forehead,
and suddenly I would understand things I had never learned,

(19:54):
mathematical concepts beyond anything taught in school, physics that contradicted
everything I thought of. I knew about the universe, biological
processes that seemed to suggest life was far more flexible
and adaptable than we believed. But with the knowledge came
something else. Each piece of information they gave me was
connected to a kind of trigger. If I tried to

(20:16):
write it down later, my hand would cramp. If I
tried to speak about it, the words would jumble in
my mouth. The knowledge was there, but locked away, accessible
only in dreams and moments of extreme stress. During this
second taking, I also encountered something new. Among the standard
gray beings was something else, something that looked almost human,

(20:38):
but wrong in every way that mattered. Its proportions were
off limbs, slightly too long, joints that bent in too
many places. Its face was a mockery of human features,
with eyes that were almost normal, except for the pupils
that contracted horizontally like a goat's. It smiled at me,
revealing teeth that were all canines, and I under stood

(21:00):
with horrible clarity that this thing had once been human.
The hybrid, as I came to think of it, seemed
to be learning from the grays. It would observe their procedures,
sometimes attempting to replicate them with its disturbingly flexible hands.
When it looked at me, I felt a connection that
was different from the alien presence of the grays. It

(21:20):
was human enough to feel emotions I recognized, and what
I felt from it was a mixture of curiosity, hunger,
and something like homesickness. They showed me others like it,
dozens of them, in various stages of transformation. Some looked
mostly human with subtle alterations. Others were so changed they
bore only the vaguest resemblance to their original species. And

(21:43):
they showed me the process, though thankfully not in detail,
genetic manipulation that went beyond simple DNA editing, changes at
a quantum level that affected not just biology but the
fundamental nature of consciousness itself. The message was clear, this
was our future, or at least one possible future, Humanity

(22:04):
would not remain as it was, Whether through our own
actions or theirs, we were going to change, to evolve,
to become something else. The only question was whether we
would guide that transformation or have it forced upon us.
They returned me just before dawn, and this time I
retained more conscious memory of the experience. I also discovered

(22:26):
something else. The implant they had put in me was active.
I could feel it, sometimes a warmth beside my nose,
usually just before something significant happened. It seemed to be
recording everything I experienced, transmitting it to them wherever they were.
The takings became more frequent after that, not yearly anymore,

(22:47):
but every few months, sometimes even more often. By the
time I was thirteen, I'd been taken at least a
dozen times, each experience built on the last, like I
was enrolled in some bizarre educational pro gram I never
signed up for. They started taking me to other places,
not just their craft, underground facilities that seemed to exist

(23:08):
partially in our dimension and partially somewhere else, underwater bases
where the pressure should have killed me instantly but didn't,
and once memorably to what appeared to be a station
on the far side of the moon. Though how we
got there in what seemed like seconds I still don't understand.
It was during one of these trips that I met

(23:28):
others like me. They called us repeaters, humans who were
taken regularly, rather than just once or twice. There was Sarah,
a nurse from Oregon who had been taken since childhood
like me. David, a physics professor from Japan who had
started being taken in his twenties. Maria, an artist from
Brazil whose paintings of her experiences had gained her a

(23:50):
following among UFO believers. We were allowed to interact sometimes,
though always under observation. We compared experiences, finding patterns and takings.
We had all received implants. We had all been shown
the same visions of Earth's possible futures, and we had
all been changed in subtle ways. Sarah found she could

(24:11):
sometimes sense illness in people before symptoms appeared. David's understanding
of physics had leaped beyond his education, though he couldn't
publish his insights without suffering debilitating migraines. Maria's art had
taken on an otherworldly quality that seemed to affect viewers
on a subconscious level. I discovered my own changes Gradually.

(24:33):
My dreams were no longer entirely my own. Sometimes I
would dream of places I had never been, people I
had never met, but with such vivid detail that I
could draw maps of buildings I had never entered. Later,
I would sometimes see these places on the news or
in photographs and recognize them instantly. I was seeing through
other eyes, other abductees maybe, or perhaps the hybrids themselves.

(24:58):
I also developed what I can own describe as a
sense for them. I knew when they were near, even
when they weren't coming for me. I could feel their presence,
like pressure in the air before a storm. Sometimes I
would see them in peripheral vision, standing in crowds or
watching from shadows, only to look directly and find nothing there.

(25:19):
The worst taking came when I was fifteen. They kept
me for what felt like days, though only a single
night passed on earth. This time, the examination was brutal.
They seemed to be testing the limits of human endurance,
physical and psychological. They would bring me to the edge
of death and then heal me completely, only to start again.

(25:40):
They showed me horrors beyond description, things that human minds
weren't meant to process. But they also showed me wonders.
Civilizations that had existed millions of years before Earth, formed
technologies that looked like magic manipulation of matter and energy
at the quantum level. They showed me how consciousness itself

(26:00):
could be transferred, copied, broadcast across space. They showed me
humans who had volunteered to join them, who had abandoned
their bodies entirely to exist as pure information in their
collective consciousness. And they showed me why they were doing this.
The universe they conveyed was dying, not in billions of years,

(26:21):
as our scientists believed, but much sooner. Reality itself was degrading,
breaking down at the fundamental level. They were collecting consciousness,
preserving it, preparing for a transition to something else. Humanity
was just one of thousands of species they were harvesting, cataloging,
attempting to save in their own twisted way. But there

(26:43):
was disagreement among them. I could sense factions, different groups
with different ideas about how to proceed. Some wanted to
accelerate the process, to force humanity to evolve quickly before
it was too late others preferred observation minimal interference, and
some terrifyingly saw us as nothing more than raw material

(27:04):
consciousness to be absorbed and integrated into their collective. By
my late teens, I had learned to resist them to
some degree, not prevent the takings that seemed impossible, but
maintain more consciousness during them, remember more afterward. I discovered
that certain mental exercises, particularly mathematical visualization, helped maintain my

(27:26):
sense of self when they tried to overwhelm my mind.
I also wasn't alone in this resistance. Through careful research
and networking in early Internet UFO forms, I found others
who had developed similar techniques. We began to share information carefully,
always aware that they were watching. We developed codes ways

(27:47):
of communicating that hopefully they couldn't fully understand. One woman, Linda,
had discovered that certain frequencies of sound could interfere with
their paralysis technology. It didn't stop them, but it could
delay them, sometimes long enough to wake others in the house.
A man named Robert had learned to partially block their
mental intrusions through meditation techniques he had learned from Tibetan monks.

(28:10):
None of us could stop them entirely, but we were learning.
The beings noticed our resistance. During one taking, when I
was nineteen, the tall one expressed something like disappointment. It
showed me images of humans throughout history who had resisted change,
who had fought against progress. It was trying to convince
me that resistance was futile, that what they offered was evolution, transcendence.

(28:36):
But it also showed me something else, perhaps unintentionally, They
were running out of time too. Whatever deadline they were
working against was approaching faster than anticipated. Their takings were
becoming more frequent, globally, less careful. More people were remembering,
more people were talking. The veil of secrecy they had

(28:57):
maintained for so long was beginning to fray. They tried
new approaches with me. Instead of just taking me, they
would sometimes attempt communication while I was conscious. I would
be lying in bed, fully awake and suddenly feel their
presence in my mind. They would show me things, ask questions,
try to establish something like a dialogue, but it was

(29:19):
always on their terms, always with the implicit threat that
they could take me whenever they wanted. During one of
these mental contacts, I asked them directly why they didn't
just reveal themselves openly. The response was a flood of
images showing human reactions to their appearance throughout history, worship, panic, violence, madness.

(29:41):
They had tried open contact before in our distant past,
and it had always ended badly. Humans they conveyed were
not psychologically prepared for the reality of their existence. The
abduction program was meant to prepare us gradually to create
a population of humans who could serve as intermediary when
open contact finally became necessary. Stay tuned for more Backwoods

(30:04):
Bigfoot stories. We'll be back. After these messages. In my twenties,
the nature of my abductions changed dramatically. I was no
longer just being examined or educated. I was being used
for something else, something that still fills me with a
combination of revulsion and fascination. They introduced me to more hybrids,

(30:27):
beings that were further along in their transformation. Some could
pass for human from a distance, but up close were
clearly something else. Their movements were too fluid, their eyes
too knowing, their presence somehow wrong in a way that
triggered every evolutionary alarm in my body. But they wanted
me to interact with them to teach them how to

(30:47):
be human. I would be placed in rooms that looked
like perfect replicas of normal human spaces, a coffee shop,
a living room, an office, and made to engage in
normal human activities. Of these creatures, they would practice conversation,
facial expressions, social cues. It was like teaching aliens method acting,

(31:09):
showing them how to wear humanity like a costume. One
hybrid in particular, seemed fixated on me. It called itself Adam,
though I doubt that was its real name, if it
even had one. Adam looked mostly human, could probably walk
down a street without attracting attention, but prolonged interaction revealed
the truth. Its emotions were performed rather than felt, its

(31:32):
responses slightly delayed, as if it was translating between different
types of consciousness. Adam told me things the Grays wouldn't
or couldn't. It said it remembered being human, remembered having
a name and a family and a life before the transformation,
but those memories were like echoes, now fading signals from
a person who no longer existed. It was connected to

(31:55):
the collective consciousness of the grays, but not fully integrated,
existing in a liminal space between species. The hybrids were
not just biological experiments, Adam explained, they were bridges designed
to ease humanity's transition into whatever came next. Some were
sent back to Earth to live among humans, to observe

(32:15):
and report, and occasionally influence events in subtle ways. Adam
claimed there were thousands of them, maybe tens of thousands,
living normal lives while serving as the eyes and ears
of the watchers. During one particularly disturbing session, they showed
me the breeding program. I won't describe it in detail,
both because it's too personal and too horrifying, but know

(32:39):
that they are creating new generations of hybrids, each more
sophisticated than the last. Some are grown in artificial wombs
aboard their craft. Others are implanted in human women, who
often don't even know they're pregnant until the fetus is
removed during an abduction. I met some of these children,
if you can call them that. They looked human enough,

(33:00):
but their development was far different from our own. A
two year old with the eyes of an ancient being,
a five year old who could speak in perfect sentences
but had never learned a smile. They were being raised
in facilities that existed partially in our world and partially
in theirs, educated in ways human children never could be.

(33:20):
The purpose, as much as they would reveal, was to
create a species that could survive the coming transition. Pure
humans were too fragile, too limited. Pure grays or whatever
they really were, were too removed from physical reality. The
hybrids were meant to be the perfect synthesis, capable of
existing in multiple dimensions, of surviving the death of the

(33:42):
universe as we know it. In my late twenties, the
implant they had placed in me when I was ten
became more active. I would experience what I came to
call downloads, sudden influxes of information that would leave me
disoriented for hours or days. It wasn't like learning something new,
It was like remembering something I'd always known but forgotten.

(34:04):
The downloads contained technical knowledge that I shouldn't have had,
schematics for devices that didn't exist yet, mathematical proofs for
theorems that hadn't been discovered, biological processes that could extend
human life indefinitely, but also more disturbing things, memories that
weren't mine, experiences of other abductees, other hybrids, maybe even

(34:27):
the grays themselves. I saw Earth from perspectives that weren't human.
I experienced time differently, not as a linear progression, but
as a navigable dimension. I felt the collective consciousness they
were part of, millions or billions of minds, linked in
ways that made individuality almost meaningless. And I saw their home,

(34:48):
or what had been their home, a place so alien
that my mind could only process it in metaphors and abstractions.
The downloads were preparing me for something, each one built
on the last, creating a framework of understanding that human
education could never provide. They were rewiring my brain, creating
new neural pathways that could process information in ways humans

(35:10):
hadn't evolved to handle. Other abductees reported similar experiences. We
were being upgraded, whether we wanted it or not. Some
embraced it, seeing it as evolution transcendence. Others fought it,
trying to maintain their humanity even as it was slowly
stripped away. I found myself somewhere in the middle, fascinated

(35:31):
by the knowledge they were giving me, but terrified of
what I was becoming. The downloads also contained warnings environmental
collapse accelerating faster than public models, predicted potential nuclear conflicts
that could trigger extinction, biological weapons that could rewrite human DNA,
solar events that could destroy our electronic civilization. They were

(35:54):
showing us all the ways humanity could destroy itself before
their plan came to fruition. But they also showed solutions
technologies we could develop to prevent these disasters, social changes
that could unite humanity, scientific breakthroughs that were just within
our reach. It was as if they were hedging their bets,

(36:15):
giving us the tools to save ourselves if we chose
to use them. Three years ago, when I turned thirty seven,
everything changed. Instead of taking me to their craft, they
brought me somewhere else entirely. The transition was different too,
no paralysis, no floating. One moment I was in my bedroom,
the next I was standing in a vast space that

(36:36):
defied description. It wasn't a room or a building in
any conventional sense. The space seemed to exist in multiple
dimensions simultaneously. I could see walls that were also horizons,
floors that were also ceilings, distances that were both infinite
and intimate. My human brain couldn't fully process it, so
it kept trying to impose familiar patterns that didn't quite fit.

(37:00):
The tall being was there, but so were others, hundreds
of them, maybe thousands, all variations on the same theme.
Some were clearly the grays I was familiar with. Others
were different, evolved or specialized in ways I couldn't understand.
And among them were hybrids of every generation, from the
almost human to things that bore no resemblance to their origins.

(37:24):
They were all connected, I realized, not telepathically, but something
more fundamental. They were aspects of a single consciousness experiencing
itself subjectively. The individuality I had perceived in them was
an illusion, or maybe a translation from my benefit. They
were one being with billions of bodies, a distributed intelligence

(37:46):
that spanned space and possibly time. The tall one, or
the aspect of the collective that had been interacting with me,
conveyed that it was time for me to understand the
full truth. The images and concepts came faster than ever before,
a flood of information that should have destroyed my mind,
but somehow didn't. They were not aliens in the way

(38:08):
we understood the term. They were us, or rather what
we would become. They were humanity from a timeline where
the species had survived the coming collapse and evolved into
something unrecognizable. They existed outside of linear time, moving between
past and future like we moved between rooms. The abduction

(38:28):
program wasn't about studying us or even saving us. It
was about ensuring their own existence. By taking us, changing us,
creating hybrids, they were establishing a causal loop that guaranteed
their evolution. Every person they took, every mind they touched,
every hybrid they created, was a thread in the tapestry

(38:49):
of their becoming. But there was a problem. The timeline
was fracturing. The choices humanity was making were creating divergent
futures some where they existed, some where they didn't. They
were trying to collapse the probability wave to ensure the
timeline that led to their existence, but they were running
out of time. The collapse they had mentioned wasn't just

(39:11):
of our civilization, but of the timeline itself, a point
where all possible futures would converge and only one would survive.
That's why the program had accelerated. That's why they were
taking more risks, allowing more people to remember. They needed
us to know, needed us to choose, needed us to participate.
Consciously in our own transformation. The resistance we had been

(39:36):
mounting wasn't futile, It was necessary. It was part of
the process, the tension that would determine which future became real.
They showed me the moment of convergence, still several years
in our future, but approaching fast. I saw billions of
possibilities collapsing into a single point. In some humanity transcended,

(39:57):
joining the cosmic consciousness they were part of. In others,
we remained stubbornly human, fighting to preserve our identity even
as the universe changed around us, And in some terrifyingly,
we simply ended. Our consciousness extinguished like a candle in
a hurricane. After that revelation, my role changed. I was

(40:19):
no longer just a subject or student. I was what
they called an interface, someone who could translate between human
and posthuman consciousness. The downloads became more intense, but also
more comprehensible. I could feel myself changing, evolving, becoming something
between human and other. Other interfaces began to contact me,

(40:40):
not through normal channels, but through the shared consciousness the
implants created. We could sense each other communicate in ways
that bypassed language. There were hundreds of us around the world,
maybe thousands. We were the bridge generation, the ones who
would help humanity through the transition. But we were also
faced with an impossible choice. By accepting our role, we

(41:04):
were helping them insure their timeline, the one where humanity
ceased to exist as we knew it. By resisting, we
might preserve human autonomy, but risk extinction. There was no
good answer, no clear moral path. Some interfaces chose to
fully embrace the transformation. They allowed themselves to be changed completely,

(41:25):
becoming early adopters of posthuman consciousness. I met one, or
what was left of one, during a recent abduction. She
had been a teacher named Jennifer, but now she was
something else. She could still communicate with me, but her
thoughts moved in directions I couldn't follow. She existed partially
in our dimension and partially in others, experiencing reality in

(41:48):
ways that made normal human life impossible. Others chose complete resistance,
trying to sever their connection to the collective to remove
or disable their implants. Most failed. The few who succeeded
disappeared entirely, and I don't know if they found freedom
or something worse. The beings didn't seem angry about the resistance.

(42:09):
If anything, they seem to expect it, even require it
as part of the process. I chose a middle path.
I would serve as an interface, but maintain my humanity
as long as possible. I would help prepare others for
what was coming without forcing them to accept it. It's
why I'm telling this story now, why I'm breaking through
whatever conditioning they put in place to prevent me from speaking.

(42:32):
The abductions continue, but they're different now. Sometimes I'm taken physically,
but more often it's just my consciousness that travels while
my body remains in bed. I've learned to navigate their spaces,
to understand their technology, to communicate with them almost as
an equal. But I've also learned the cost. Every interaction

(42:53):
changes me a little more. I can feel my humanity
slipping away in increments. I see time differently now, not
as a flow, but as a landscape I can partially perceive.
I dream of places that don't exist yet, of Earth
after the transformation, of what we might become. The dreams
are beautiful and terrible in equal measure. I've met my

(43:15):
future self, or a possible future self. He it was
barely recognizable as having once been human. It existed as
a pattern of consciousness that could inhabit different forms, different dimensions.
It remembered being me, but in the way we remember
being children, distant and somewhat foreign. It tried to reassure

(43:36):
me that the transformation wasn't death but birth, not ending
but becoming, But its very existence terrified me more than
any gray alien ever had. The hybrids are everywhere now.
I can recognize them, feel their presence like a frequency.
Only I can hear. They're in positions of influence, not controlling,

(43:57):
but guiding, nudging humanity towards them convergence point. Some are
scientists making breakthrough discoveries that push us toward transformation. Others
are artists creating works that prepare human consciousness for what's coming.
They're not evil, not invaders. They're us or what we're becoming.
I've tried to live a normal life despite everything. I

(44:20):
got married, though my wife doesn't know the full truth.
How could I explain that I'm slowly becoming something not
quite human, That our children, if we have them, might
be born different, That the future I'm helping to create
might not have room for human love. As we understand it.
The implant is fully active now I can feel it working,

(44:42):
processing information, connecting me to the network. Sometimes I access
knowledge I shouldn't have solutions to problems that haven't been
asked yet. I've anonymously sent several scientific breakthroughs to researchers,
hoping to help humanity prepare. Stay tuned for more Backwoods
Bigfoot stories. We'll be back after these messages. But I

(45:05):
also feel the collective consciousness pulling at me, inviting me
to let go, to stop fighting and join them fully.
The downloads have shown me what's coming in the next
few years. Disclosure is imminent, but not in the way
people expect. It won't be governments revealing secret programs or
aliens landing on the White House lawn. It will be

(45:26):
a gradual awakening as more people like me start to remember,
start to speak out, start to change. The veil between
dimensions is thinning. Soon everyone will see what we've been seeing.
There will be resistance, of course, violence denial, attempts to
stop the transformation. Some will embrace it too quickly, losing

(45:47):
themselves in the process. Others will fight to the end,
preferring extinction to evolution. Most will be somewhere in the middle, confused, frightened,
trying to understand what humanity means when the definition is changing.
I've seen the convergence point approaching in my dreams. It's
like a wave building far out at sea, invisible from shore,

(46:10):
but inevitable. When it breaks, reality as we know it
will be reshuffled. The laws of physics will become more fluid,
Consciousness will be liberated from biology. Time will become navigable.
Death as we understand it will end, but so will
humanity as we know it. I need to tell you

(46:30):
what's coming because you need to prepare. Not physically, there's
no bunker that can protect you from this, but mentally, spiritually,
however you want to frame it. The transformation isn't something
that will happen to you. It's something you'll participate in,
consciously or not. In the next eighteen months, the sightings
will increase dramatically, not just lights in the sky, but

(46:52):
physical craft, beings, interactions that can't be dismissed or explained away.
The governments of the world will try to control the narrative,
but they're as confused as everyone else. They've known about
the phenomenon for decades, but never understood it. How could they?
It exists partially outside their frame of reference. People will

(47:13):
start changing. Those who have been taken. Those with implants
will begin to manifest abilities that seem impossible telepathy, precognition,
manipulation of matter at the quantum level. Some will go
mad from the changes. Others will try to use their
abilities for personal gain. A few will become teachers, preparing

(47:34):
others for what's coming. The hybrids will reveal themselves, not
all at once, but gradually. They'll claim to be here
to help, and in their way they are. But remember
they're not human anymore, not fully. Their agenda aligns with
the beings that created them. They'll offer solutions to our
problems technologies that seem like magic, but every gift will

(47:57):
come with a price, another step toward transformation. There will
be a moment I've seen it in the downloads when
humanity will be offered a choice, not individually but collectively.
Through some mechanism I don't fully understand. Will be shown
what we can become, the cosmic consciousness we can join,
the limitations we can transcend. Will also be shown what

(48:20):
happens if we refuse the extinction that awaits a species
that can't evolve. Some of you hearing this will think
I'm insane. That's fine. Maybe I am. Maybe the beings
have been feeding me delusions for thirty years. Maybe the
implant is just assist the abductions, just vivid dreams, the
downloads just my imagination running wild. But if I'm right,

(48:44):
and you'll know soon enough. If I am, then you
need to decide what humanity means to you. Is humanity
our biology, our DNA, our physical form, or is it
something else? Our consciousness, our creativity, our capacity for love
and growth. Can we remain human while transcending our limitations,

(49:05):
or does evolution always mean losing what we were? I
don't have answers, only experiences and warnings. The beings our
future selves. Whatever they are, they're not evil, but they're
not good either, not in any way we understand. They're
beyond morality as we conceive it, operating on principles that

(49:25):
human ethics can't grasp. They see our transformation as inevitable, necessary,
beneficial in the long term. They can't understand why we
would resist becoming more than we are, But resistance might
be what defines us. The struggle to remain human in
the face of cosmic forces. Trying to change us might
be the most human thing we can do, even if

(49:48):
it's futile, Even if we're just delaying the inevitable, that
delay might be precious. Every moment of human experience, human love,
human creativity might be worth preserving for as long as possible.
As I write this, I can feel them watching, not angrily,
but with that same detached curiosity they've always shown. They're

(50:09):
interested to see what revealing this information will do, how
humanity will react. It's all data to them, all part
of the experiment. My transformations have accelerated in recent months.
I barely sleep anymore, and when I do, I'm not
really unconscious. Part of me is always aware, always connected

(50:30):
to the network. I can feel other abductees around the world,
since their experiences, their fears, their acceptance or resistance. We're
all nodes in a growing network, neurons in a forming
brain that will soon become self aware. My body is changing, too,
though in subtle ways. My temperature runs lower than normal,

(50:52):
my heart rate is irregular, but not in a way
that concerns doctors. Sometimes I forget to breathe for minutes
at a time without feeling any stress. It's like my
biology is becoming optional, a system I can use or
ignore as needed. The downloads are constant now, a stream
of information that would have destroyed my mind years ago.

(51:12):
I see potential futures branching and collapsing in real time.
I understand technologies that won't be invented for decades. I
can feel the shape of space time, the way consciousness
creates reality through observation. But with each piece of knowledge,
I lose a piece of my humanity. My wife has
noticed the changes, she says, I sometimes look at her

(51:34):
like I don't recognize her, like I'm seeing her for
the first time. She's not wrong. Every day I have
to consciously remember how to be human, how to respond
appropriately to human emotions and situations. It's becoming an act,
a performance of humanity, rather than genuine experience. The hybrids
visit me now, not through abductions, but in normal reality.

(51:58):
They knock on my door, looking like livery drivers or
repair technicians. We sit in my living room and discuss
the convergence while my wife is at work. They're excited
about it in their alien way, like children anticipating a
birthday party. They don't understand my ambivalence, my grief for
what we're losing. Adam, the hybrid I mentioned earlier, has

(52:19):
become something like a friend, though that word doesn't really apply.
He tells me about his life among humans, the family
he's pretending to have, the job he goes to every day.
He's studying us, even as he helps prepare us, documenting
human behavior for some future archive. He says that after
the convergence, there will be those who study what humanity

(52:40):
was like the way we study extinct species. The most
disturbing change is in my perception of time. Past, present,
and future are becoming fluid. I remember things that haven't happened,
yet forget things that just occurred. I've written this account
dozens of times, each version slightly different as the time
line shifts around me. Sometimes I'm not sure which version

(53:03):
is real, or if they all are in parallel dimensions.
I've seen my death or deaths. In one timeline, I
die peacefully in my sleep just before the convergence. In another,
I'm killed by those who see me as a traitor
to humanity. And yet another I don't die at all,
but transform so completely that death becomes meaningless. The uncertainty

(53:26):
should terrify me, but the fear response is one of
the human things I'm losing. If you're hearing this, the
convergence is close, maybe months away, maybe weeks. You'll know
it's beginning when the sky starts to look strange, when
you have dreams that feel more real than waking, when
you start to see things in your peripheral vision that
shouldn't exist. Don't trust the hybrids completely, but don't fear

(53:50):
them either. They are as much victims as accomplices, caught
between two states of being. Don't trust the governments when
they claim to have answers. Is confused and frightened as
everyone else. Don't trust anyone who claims to have the
complete truth, including me. We're all seeing pieces of something
too large for human comprehension. But do trust yourself, trust

(54:13):
your instincts about what feels right, what feels human. If
you're taken, and many of you will be, try to
maintain your sense of self. The mathematical visualization I mentioned helps,
but so does focusing on specific human memories, especially ones
involving love, creativity, or sacrifice. These seem to be the

(54:35):
aspects of humanity they understand least the parts that might
be worth preserving. If you start to change, and many
of you will, don't panic. The transformation isn't inherently painful,
only frightening. You can influence it to some degree, maintain
more of your humanity if you actively choose to. But

(54:55):
you can also let go, embrace the change, become something new.
Neither choice is wrong. Both are part of the pattern.
The children born after the convergence will be different. They'll
be human in form but capable of so much more.
They'll see reality as it truly is, not filtered through
biological limitations. They'll be the bridge to whatever we become next.

(55:19):
Protect them, but also learn from them. They'll understand things
we can't. I don't know what will happen to this
account after I submit it. Maybe it will spread, preparing
people for what's coming. Maybe it will be dismissed as fiction,
another crazy abduction story in an ocean of them. Maybe
the beings will prevent its distribution, or alter it in

(55:40):
ways I won't even know. It doesn't matter the act
of telling is what's important. The human need to share,
to warn, to connect. I feel them calling me now,
not for another abduction, but for something more final. The
transformation that's been building in me for thirty years is
reaching its complete I can resist a little longer, maybe

(56:03):
long enough to say goodbye to my wife, to feel
human love one more time. Or I can let go
now join the collective consciousness, become part of the solution
or the problem, depending on your perspective. To everyone who
hears this, you are living in the last days of
humanity as we've known it. That's terrifying, but also extraordinary.

(56:25):
You're witnessing the birth of something unprecedented, the conscious evolution
of a species. Whatever you choose, however, you face what's coming,
Remember that your choice matters. Each human decision, each act
of resistance or acceptance, shapes what we become. The grays,
the beings, our future selves. They've shown me many things,

(56:49):
but they've never shown me art that moves, the soul,
music that brings tears, or the irrational beauty of human love.
Maybe that's what we're meant to preserve, not our bodies
or even our minds, but that spark of inexplicable humanity
that makes us more than the sum of our parts.
The blue light is filling my room now. My wife

(57:11):
is sleeping beside me, unaware that when she wakes, I
might be something else. The beings are patient, eternal. They
can wait a few more minutes while I finish this account,
while I try to capture in words what three decades
of abduction have taught me. We are not alone. We
never were. We are part of something vast and incomprehensible,

(57:32):
a cosmic consciousness that transcends space and time. Fighting it
is futile. Embracing it means losing ourselves. The only path
forward is something in between, a synthesis that preserves what's
valuable about humanity while accepting the inevitable transformation. Remember us
as we were flawed, limited, mortal, but also capable of beauty, love,

(57:57):
and meaning in the face of an indifferent universe. Whatever
we become next, whether gods or monsters, are something unimaginable,
we were once human. We once loved and feared, and
hoped and dreamed in ways that the cosmos had never
seen before and might never see again. The taking is
beginning this time. I don't think I'm coming back, not

(58:19):
as myself anyway, but I'm not afraid anymore. I've seen
what's beyond the veil, and while it's not human. It's
not evil either. It's just the next chapter in a
story that started billions of years ago and will continue
long after the stars burn out. To my wife, if
you hear this, I love you in the most human

(58:39):
way possible. That love might not survive my transformation, but
it existed. It was real, and it mattered to everyone else. Prepare,
but don't despair. Evolution is not extinction. It's only change,
and change, terrifying as it might be, is the only
constant in the universe. They're here now. The blue light

(59:02):
is everywhere. I can feel myself lifting, not just my body,
but my consciousness, rising towards something immense and ancient and
eternally patient. I'll see you on the other side, whatever
that might be. Never