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In the summer of 1977, Terry Lovelace, a 22-year-old United States Air Force medic, joined his friend Tobias for a camping trip in Devil’s Den State Park in Arkansas. Both men were eager for a weekend escape into nature, leaving behind the routine of their military duties. The park, known for its isolation and expansive skies, seemed like the perfect destination for their short getaway. They planned to spend two nights in the wilderness, surrounded by the beauty of the forest and the clarity of a star-filled sky. What began as a peaceful retreat quickly turned into a harrowing experience that would haunt Lovelace for decades.
The pair arrived at the park late in the afternoon. Wanting privacy, they set up camp in a remote clearing far from the designated camping areas. The site offered an uninterrupted view of the horizon and seemed to promise a tranquil escape. As night fell, the two men settled into lawn chairs outside their tent, watching the stars. The air was still, and the absence of artificial light made the constellations above appear unusually vivid. Everything about the scene felt calm and ordinary, at least for the moment.
The following evening, after another day exploring the park, Lovelace and Tobias again found themselves staring at the stars. Their earlier unease seemed to have faded, replaced by the serenity of their surroundings. It wasn’t long before their attention was drawn to something unusual in the sky. A light, distant at first, appeared near the horizon. At first, they assumed it was a plane, but its movement soon ruled out that possibility. The light darted sharply in different directions, moving far too quickly and precisely for conventional aircraft. As it grew closer, it became apparent that this was no ordinary object.
The light revealed itself to be a large triangular craft, its outline distinct against the dark sky. The craft moved silently, without any of the sounds typical of an engine or propulsion system. It hovered briefly before descending toward the clearing. A brilliant beam of light emanated from its underside, illuminating their tent and the surrounding trees. The sheer size of the object was staggering, but its silence and the focused intensity of its light made the scene even more unnerving. Neither man moved or spoke, paralyzed by fear and awe.
Moments later, the light enveloped them completely, and the world seemed to dissolve into an overwhelming brightness. When they awoke, they were lying outside their tent. The craft was gone, and the clearing was quiet once more. But both men were profoundly shaken, their bodies marked by burns and strange, triangular rashes. They felt disoriented, unable to account for several hours of missing time. It was clear that something extraordinary had occurred, though the details of that night would only come back to Lovelace much later.
Many cases like this, with lost time. That would freak me out.
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Exactly too many cases like this, almost all in very remote wastelands, I have heard cases like these also in very remote moors in the Amazon...
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I think some of this is no different to when humans anesthetize wild animals for various purposes e.g., research, safety, monitoring.
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You're absolutely right, they're just experiments from them to us.
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I've also heard and seen videos of a lot of cases like this. It's hard to tell if it's a lie or not, but when you look closely at their serious expressions, you'll notice they don't seem to be lying. I don't like experts when they just deny their claims; I believe there is some truth to it. Nobody could stick to their claims so firmly.
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