The story of a Muscovite who was abducted by aliens and cured her sore leg

In 1994, the American psychologist Boris Landa (who had previously moved to the USA from the USSR) flew to Moscow. He was very interested in the topic of UFOs and aliens, which in those years was discussed very actively in the post-Soviet press. Many probably remember the numerous reports of UFOs and drums on the pages of newspapers.

But the psychologist was especially attracted by the topic of those abducted by aliens and he wanted to get acquainted with the Russians, who assured that they were abducted by aliens and carried out strange operations on them. Landa met with Russian researchers of anomalous phenomena, including ufologist Vladimir Azhazha, who described the following story in one of his books. Azhazha arranged for Lande to meet with two women affected by the aliens.

One of them was a girl Natasha (her last name is not called), who worked in a certain Moscow research institute. The psychologist asked Natasha for permission to apply hypnosis to her in order to find out the details of her abduction, and now the girl sat comfortably in an armchair, closed her eyes and the session began. Landa began to ask the girl questions.

What woke you up that night? – A voice, male, pleasant, called to the balcony. I don’t remember getting up and walking down the corridor. I ended up in the kitchen, in the corner, by the door, on the side where the hinges are. Or rather, on the wall under the ceiling, because I saw myself in the kitchen. In house dress. I go to the balcony. – IN the dress?

Did you sleep in it? – Not. Slept in a nightgown. Where is the dress from? Do not know. I went out to the balcony. I felt cold, it was September… – Wait. Let’s go back. You said that you were under the ceiling and you see yourself in the kitchen. So where are you? “I was upstairs, watching and waiting. Myself. — How did you feel there? Something light, weightless. It was my vision there. And the me that walked through the kitchen was inanimate, a doll. We joined on the balcony.

From the cold, I wrapped my arms around myself and crouched down so as not to hit the clothes rail. – you wanted go to the balcony? – It was necessary. I didn’t resist. They said they would show their planet. – Who are they”? — I don’t know… There was no one. — What did you see? – Our street. Night. Houses with lights. Construction crane. I was told to look north.

The ball hung larger than the full moon, beautiful, shimmering with pink-yellow light. — What else have you seen? Nothing else at that time. In the morning I woke up in my bed, in a shirt. And a few days later I got there … – There? .. – Somewhere …

They led me along the path. All around was dark, black sky. But everything is visible. Path in pebbles, rows of dark green bushes, trimmed, with small leaves, like tea leaves. You said “led”. Who led? – Which-Some kind of creature, half my height, black, shapeless, like a voluminous blot. It seemed to be holding my hand, but there was no feeling of his hand—nothing. — Where were you going? Ahead, dazzling white houses shone brightly. With high antennas.

Large windows. The glasses were opaque. On the threshold, the blot disappeared. I was left alone in the brown room. I knew that there was someone there, voices were heard, muttering. They were somewhere behind the doors, minding their own business. We did not perceive each other. Some depressing effect. I stood alone, I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t do it without a blot. At last the voice said, “This is how we live.” The blot took me outside, outside… – Natasha, what happened to your leg?

– This is scary. I don’t want to remember. Natasha’s face tightened, tears flowed from her closed eyes. But she went on talking: I again saw myself from the corner, from the wall, from above. I saw a green room and myself with her hair down, wrapped in something white, but not in my clothes. I lie on the table, my hands are free. I appeared, and we – the one who was watching, and the one that was on the table – merged. And I felt panic. I wanted to get up and leave, but I couldn’t. They told me: “You need it.”

– Who said? – I do not know. There was no one in the green room, but I saw a long, 20 centimeters, metal rod, like a pencil. It was as if someone’s hands were passing it to each other, like surgeons’ tools. But I didn’t see the hands. Then they lowered a green curtain in front of me and said: “You don’t need to see this.” I felt that my legs were there, behind the curtain, bent at the knees and hanging over the table. And a wild pain in the right leg.

Unbearable pain. This pin is driven into the leg, into the bone, from the knee to the ankle. Such pain cannot be imagined, it was real. – And then? – Nothing. I never see the way back. I woke up in the morning in my bed. The leg did not hurt, only it was somehow heavy. I didn’t want to look at her. – And before something happened to the leg? “She actually hurt me for a long time. I have been figure skating since childhood. When I laced up my boots, it hurt. Right – push. The pain began to interfere so much that at the age of 18 I quit skating. My leg hurt when I put on tight boots, when I touched it. But I ran, walked, got used to this pain, did not go to the doctor and was afraid to tell my parents. – Does it hurt now?

– Not. Gone. And there are no traces. But that pain and fear… And the feeling that I can’t do anything, I’m in someone else’s power and I don’t know what will happen… I drive this memory away. Tears rolled down Natasha’s cheeks again, and Boris Landa forced her to open her eyes. Gradually she came to her senses, tried to smile. – I’m still there, in the green room …

– You will feel better, you have freed yourself from … From what? Memories? Feel? Sleep? When the girl said goodbye to Landa and the ufologist Azhazha after the session, the psychologist said that the girl told him that there was something else, but which she would never tell about, it was too scary. Landa was sure that after a few more sessions of hypnosis, the girl would tell him this part as well, but whether they met again is unknown, Azhazha does not mention this anymore. We will publish the story of the second victim of the woman next time.