Through the Wall: My Eerie Encounter with Unseen Forces and the REAL Men in Black

Some childhood memories stick with you no matter how much time passes. For me, but this one, well it wasn’t the usually warm moments or playful days that linger—it was the cold, dark nights where my imagination wasn’t the only thing stirring. What I experienced as a child around 2 or 3 defies explanation. Was it an alien abduction? A brush with another dimension? Or was my mind simply playing tricks on me? Even now, decades later, I’m still not sure. But what followed was just as strange, and it’s hard to dismiss the eerie connection to the fabled Men in Black.

It all started back when my family lived in Mobile, Alabama, within walking distance of the fairgrounds and Mobile Municipal Park, depending on which direction you walked. I vividly remember waking up one night to find strange “beings” in my bedroom. They didn’t look human—they were shadowy, hard to define and so unnatural that every part of me wanted to scream. But I couldn’t.

I wasn’t beamed up into a spaceship like the Hollywood version of alien abductions—no, it was far stranger. I was pulled out of bed and led through what I can only describe as a hole in the wall behind my chest of drawers. The chest, which I mispronounced as “chester drawers” back then, stayed with my family for years; my stepdad Bill still has it now. Yet behind it, in my bedroom, was nothing more than a solid wall—or so my parents claimed, except for a small opening at the base where the wall met the floor, no larger than a quarter.

On that night, though, it wasn’t solid. The at the base where the wall met the floor, no larger than a quarter, was somehow amplified to be big enough for me to pass through with these beings. Beyond that hole was... nothing. No walls, no objects, just an endless, still darkness. The only things visible were the beings and me. I remember the low, wavelike hum that filled the space, vibrating through the silence like an unearthly heartbeat. Wherever I was, it didn’t feel like Earth—and it didn’t feel like a spaceship. It felt like a dimension pulled out of nightmares, suspended in blackness, where I was utterly powerless.

I told my parents about the experience, terrified and desperate for them to believe me. “They came in my room,” I said, “and they go through the wall behind my chester drawers!” My dad, skeptical but willing to humor me, pulled the dresser away from the wall. “See?” he said. “Nothing’s there.” But I could still see it—the opening I’d described, the one I’d crawled through in my mind. In reality, it was impossibly small now and yet... somehow, it wasn’t then.

I had similar encounters over the years—when we moved to Florida, then later to Vegas. Yes, even in a hotel room in Vegas, I woke to find those beings pulling me from the safety of my bed. Each time, the experience was just as chilling, leaving me sleepless and terrified to be alone.

But the strangest part came after I first told my parents about these visits. A few days later, we had visitors at the house—strange men, dressed in black, talking to my parents. Even though I was really little and usuall optimistic around people even if I didn't like them, their presence felt off, unsettling in a way that’s hard to put into words. I didn’t know who they were, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t ordinary. Years later, I asked my dad about it. He brushed it off, saying it was probably preachers visiting us because my sister had probably put our address on a church registry when visiting going to church with a friend, which she did frequently. But was it really just preachers? Or had my parents been convinced—by these ominous Men in Black—that there was nothing happening, that I was simply an imaginative child?

The Men in Black have long been rumored to visit those connected to UFO sightings or abduction cases, like the infamous visit to Dr. Herbert Hopkins in 1976. The details of his story are eerie: a phone call from a non-existent UFO research group, followed by an immediate visit from a strange, hairless man dressed impeccably in black. Hopkins described his guest as robotic, with a lifeless demeanor that seemed to drain the air from the room. And when the man’s energy began to “run low,” he simply left, leaving Hopkins shaken to the core.

The MIB are nothing like Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith and are said to appear in different forms—pale and robotic or dark-skinned and foreign-looking, sometimes speaking with peculiar accents or outdated slang. They’re almost human, yet undeniably not. Their goal? To silence witnesses, dissuade researchers and obscure truths about UFOs and extraterrestrial phenomena.

Was that what happened to my family? Did the Men in Black come to our house to erase the truth about my experiences? Or were they something else entirely—an illusion, a hoax, a figment of my imagination? Even now, I can’t say for certain. But something about that hole in the wall, the beings, and those shadowy visitors feels too real to dismiss as fantasy. Over the years, I thought about trying to locate the house we lived in when this happened though I'm sure it would be like a needle in a haystack to find and even if I did, I'm sure it has been renovated since the 1970's. My friend Stig was on board to go to Mobile with me to find it in the 1990's be we just never got around to it and later on he advised we probably should leave it all in the past.

Have you ever had an encounter that defies explanation? Or maybe a chilling brush with the paranormal that left you wondering if you were truly alone? Share your stories in the comments—I’d love to hear from others who’ve faced the unexplainable. Let’s connect, swap tales and shine a light on the mysteries lurking in the dark. And if this post resonated with you—or sent a shiver down your spine—consider supporting the blog. Every contribution helps keep these stories alive and fuels more dives into the eerie and unknown. No pressure, of course—your presence here means the world to me. Here’s to uncovering the truth, one unsettling memory at a time. 🌒✨

You can also find me on the following social media platforms:
https://www.facebook.com/adrianduarte
https://bsky.app/profile/adriansknitwits.bsky.social
https://www.instagram.com/adriansknitwits
https://www.threads.net/adriansknitwits

Rejected by the Unknown: A Hunter’s Haunting Alien Encounter

If you’re reading this late at night, with only the soft glow of your screen lighting the room, I should warn you—this story is not for the faint of heart. It’s the kind of tale that stays with you long after the last word, creeping into your thoughts when the darkness grows too quiet. Carl Higdon never expected his hunting trip to descend into the uncanny. After hearing his account, you may find yourself looking over your shoulder the next time you’re alone in the woods. Or maybe even in your own home.

It was October 25, 1974—a crisp, golden afternoon in Wyoming's Medicine Bow Forest. Carl Higdon, a forty-year-old oil driller, was hoping for a productive hunt. The quiet rustle of leaves in the cool air was interrupted by his breath quickening as he spotted them: a magnificent bull elk surrounded by four females. Carl raised his rifle, took aim, and fired. But instead of the expected crack of the bullet finding its mark, he witnessed something impossible.

The bullet froze mid-air, suspended as if time itself had faltered. Then, as if releasing a breath, it plummeted weakly to the ground just fifty feet ahead. Confused and unnerved, Carl walked cautiously forward to retrieve the bullet. That’s when he saw it—or him.

A figure emerged from the shadows, standing in the tree line. Carl would later describe the being as vaguely humanoid, though there was something about its presence that defied explanation. Its name, as Carl would learn, was Ausso. It didn’t ask for Carl’s permission; it didn’t have to. With an unsettling authority, Ausso handed him a packet of capsules. Whether through shock, fear, or some otherworldly compulsion, Carl swallowed one without hesitation.

That’s when things took a turn from strange to surreal. With a single gesture from Ausso, Carl found himself transported into a transparent cube-shaped vessel. He didn’t remember walking inside—one moment he was in the forest; the next, he was seated next to Ausso, five caged elk eerily quiet behind them. The cube began to move, and as Carl glanced outside, his heart seized. The Earth—the only home he’d ever known—was shrinking rapidly into the distance, swallowed by the vastness of space.

He could hardly process what was happening before the vessel came to rest on a desolate, alien surface. The dark landscape felt oppressive, the air thick with gray fog. A massive tower loomed nearby, pulsating with blinding, almost unbearable light. It was a realm so foreign, so unfathomable, that Carl’s very sense of reality began to fray.

In the eerie glow of the tower, five human figures stood talking among themselves. They didn’t acknowledge Carl; they didn’t even seem to notice him. The scene was deeply unsettling, but Carl had no time to dwell on it. Ausso led him swiftly into the tower, where a cold, clinical examination awaited.

Inside, Carl was instructed to stand as Ausso scanned his body with a large, shield-like device. There was no pain, but the moment felt excruciatingly invasive, as though his very essence was being scrutinized. Ausso’s verdict came swiftly: “You’re not any good for what we need.”

Carl later speculated the rejection was due to his vasectomy—a detail that felt almost comically mundane given the circumstances. But there was nothing funny about what had just transpired. Rejected, discarded, Carl was brought back to the cube. The next thing he knew, he was back in the Medicine Bow Forest, standing alone beneath the same trees. Two hours had passed since he’d fired his gun, but nothing would ever feel the same again.

What do you think of Carl’s story? Do you believe it’s a warning, a hoax, or perhaps a glimpse into a reality we’re not ready to face? Share your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to hear what you think. If this story gave you chills, a little support goes a long way in keeping the eerie tales alive. Let’s keep the campfire burning for the stories that make the dark just a little darker.

You can also find me on the following social media platforms:
https://www.facebook.com/adrianduarte
https://bsky.app/profile/adriansknitwits.bsky.social
https://www.instagram.com/adriansknitwits
https://www.threads.net/adriansknitwits