The following documents were discovered amongst the personal possessions of one Sophia Barton, a sergeant in the Royal Air Force Police Special Investigation Branch. Sergeant Barton was found dead in her Surrey home on March the 14th 2016. The official cause of death was listed as carbon monoxide poisoning.
The first document is a typed memo on official RAF-headed paper. The second is handwritten and appears to be one page out of several. The other pages are not present and the writing does not match Sergeant Barton’s.
Both documents are presented as found, with no amendments or alterations beyond the standard removal of any classified operational information.
Royal Air Force
June 28th – Civil Airforce Authority track object falling through atmosphere above Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire.
Due to speed, size and trajectory, object logged as an anomaly – operator error or glitch in the system.
Further investigation pending.
– came down in the small hours of the morning. I’d been awake for a while, because I’d always get up early when we went camping. I liked to find a quiet spot and watch the sun come up on my own. I found it… peaceful.
It couldn’t have been an airplane, as it didn’t come in at an angle. It just… ‘fell’. Straight down, like a stone being dropped from the sky. A ‘plane wouldn’t do that. And I’m no astrophysicist, but I don’t think a shooting star would either.
When it hit the ground I saw a brief burst of light, silhouetting the trees. It blinded me for a moment, and it took a few seconds for my vision to return.
When it did I saw a ring of black smoke rising up into the sky above what must’ve been the crash site. It didn’t look too far away.
I ran back to the tents and woke up Todd and Sammy. They laughed at me to begin with as my words came babbling out. But they could see the excitement on my face, and I eventually calmed down enough to convince them to come with me to look for whatever I’d seen fall from the sky.
We packed up some supplies and zipped up our tents, leaving them behind. They’d be safe there for a few hours. We were too deep in to the woods to be disturbed by opportunist thieves.
We set off, the pair of them ribbing me about ‘UFOs’ and ‘little green men’. They took great delight in pointing out the amount of weed I’d smoked the night before.
But I did see it. And I pointed out that while it might not have been flying, it did fall, so technically it was a UFO.
My friends found that very amusing. Sammy said only I could spot ‘the world’s first unidentified falling object’.
As we walked through the forest I began to notice that something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but somehow the air felt thicker, an almost imperceptible weight to it. Maybe apprehension was getting the better of me? I’m not sure if Todd and Sammy felt it too.
Whatever I’d seen fall from the sky that morning, it must’ve come down further away than I thought. My watch showed midday when we eventually found it.
We came across a ditch, about the size of a tennis court, perfectly rounded, like a shallow pudding bowl. The earth inside that ditch lay barren, completely devoid of vegetation.
In the center, floating at about waist height above the ground, hung a six foot long, two foot wide black cylinder. It didn’t look… real. It looked like it wasn’t there at all, like we were seeing the absence of something and that absence is what gave the object its shape and color, or lack thereof.
I’m sorry if that makes no sense. That’s the best description I have.
I don’t know how long we stood there, just staring at it.
Todd spoke first. “I can’t believe it. We’ve actually found a UFO. We’re going to be rich!”
We looked at one another, grinning like idiots. Sammy got his camera out and started circling the ditch, clicking away, looking for the best angle. As he walked the ground underneath his feet made a kind of ‘crunching’ sound. I bent down and put a hand to the floor. It felt smooth, like glass.
“Do you see this?’ I asked Todd. He crouched down for a closer look.
“It looks like it’s vitrified. It must’ve been insanely hot to have done that.” He stood up and glanced around him at the rest of the forest. “And why does it stop so suddenly? Why only such a small area?”
How he’d suddenly become such an expert in crash sites I have no idea, and I pointed this out to him, much to his annoyance.
“Hey, guys,” said Sammy, on the other side of the cylinder now. “Get a bit closer. I think it’s humming.”
Todd and I both took a couple of steps forward. Sammy was right. I could feel a vibration through the floor.
“Do you think it’s military?” I asked. “A missile, perhaps? Something like that?”
“Who knows?” said Todd. “There is an airbase near here, I think.”
“Maybe we should get someone.”
“No way,” said Sammy, getting closer to it. “We found it. Let me get some more photos first.”
The three of us looked up as a black helicopter flew over, high above us.
“Well it looks like someone’s coming,” said Todd.
“Maybe we should try and take some of it. A sample, as proof,” said Sammy, lowering his camera to his side. “Todd, have you got your penknife? See if you can chip a bit of it off.”
“Don’t do that. What if it is a missile?” I said, but my protests fell on deaf ears as Todd pulled his knife from his pocket and advanced towards the cylinder.
The humming in the earth grew a little deeper, a little stronger.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, as much to myself as to my friends.
Todd stood next to it and reached a hand out to the floating black object.
It’s difficult for me to explain what happened next, but I will do my best. As soon as Todd’s hand came into contact with the tube, he became… ‘fractured’.
That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. One moment he was whole, the next his body was split into several pieces, all separated from one another by a few inches. Do you know those ‘exploded’ diagrams you used to see in car repair manuals? Where all the parts are separated from one another so you can see how they fit together? Like that, but with a human body.
Half of his head and neck were drifting up here and one of his arms hung over there and a section of his right calf off in this direction. He looked to be floating very slowly apart, the pieces no longer connected to one another. But I could see his insides still working, his lungs still breathing, his veins and arteries still pumping, but I saw no blood.
But the worst thing? He was still alive. I could see his eyes twitching, and the screaming; a high-pitched, animalistic howl, coming out of the separated parts of his mouth.
I’m sorry if that makes no sense. If I could somehow take the image that’s in my head, the image that I see every night when I try to get sleep, and put it down on paper, I would, but… I just can’t.
I don’t know how long we stood there listening to Todd’s cries, looking helplessly on at the horror before us. It might’ve been minutes, it might’ve been hours.
I heard shouts from behind us, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
The voices belonged to soldiers, dressed head to toe in black, machine guns held high. They were yelling at Sammy and me, and then pushing us to the ground. They took Sammy’s camera and I remember the sharp pain of a boot landing on the back of my neck. A masked face appeared next to mine and hissed the words ‘you saw nothing here. You will go back to your campsite, pack up your stuff and go home,’ in my ear.
Strong hands pulled me roughly up to my feet. I caught a last glimpse of Todd as one of the soldiers approached him, raised his weapon and put a bullet through the side of his head.
The screaming stopped.
Sammy and I were led back to our campsite at gunpoint, in silence. Four soldiers watched us impassively as we packed up our things and then escorted us back to Sammy’s car.
As we climbed in to the vehicle one of the men leant forward. “You saw nothing here, do you understand?”
I guess our silence told him that we did.
“Your friend died of an undiagnosed heart condition. His parents have already been informed. You called an ambulance last night, but by the time the paramedics found you, he’d already passed away.”
Neither of us spoke as we drove home. When we arrived there was a pair of police constables there to greet us. They knew all about Todd’s ‘heart condition’, and his parents had already been informed.
No-one ever asked us what happened.
Whoever those men were, why did they do that to us? We were just kids. Just stupid bloody kids.
I spent the next few years looking over my shoulder, expecting a knock on the door, a phone call, anything.
But it never came.
All that occurred nearly twenty years ago. I don’t speak to Sammy anymore. And you’re the first person I’ve ever discussed this with. I’ve haven’t even told my wife. She’d have me institutionalized.
But you know the one detail that really bothers me, the thing that pops into my mind every time I get a quiet moment to myself?
I clearly saw the wounds made by the bullet as it entered one side of his head and then exited the other, even though there was half a foot of fresh air laterally separating the two pieces.
I don’t know what you want to do with this information, or if there’s anything you can do with it. But it feels good to finally share it with someone.
You said over the phone that you might have evidence that corroborates my story? Do you think this sort of thing has occurred elsewhere, to other –
The page ends here.
There is no signature or date on this second document. None of the other files in Sergeant Barton’s possession detail anything even vaguely similar.