The story was published in the book by ufologist Alexei Priima “XX century. Chronicle of the inexplicable. The researcher personally met with the main character of this story, a resident of Rostov-on-Don, Sergei Kupaev, and wrote down his unusual story in detail.
According to friends of Sergei, who at the time of the incident was 20 years old, he was a modest, charming young man who never told lies, talking about certain events in his life. But then one day he began to tell strange things. Very strange, you know.
Late in the evening in July 1990, Kupaev lay down on the bed, turned on the audio recorder and began to listen to music. The lamp hanging from the ceiling shone with an even light. Suddenly the lamp went out and the tape recorder turned off by itself. "Probably, the plugs are burnt out," thought Sergei, lowering his feet from the bed to the floor.
He straightened up to his full height and froze in place. The room in which he was this very second has disappeared somewhere. Instead of its usual walls, completely different walls appeared around. Kupaev stood strictly in the center of the vast hall. The floor in the hall was tiled in a checkerboard pattern with large square tiles in white and dark gray.
The tiles glowed faintly, as if coated with phosphorus. The same faint diffused light came from the walls.
Opposite the young man, a narrow "table" with numerous buttons on it stretched along the wall with a long white ribbon. Against the background of the "table" three figures stood, each more than two meters tall. They were wearing completely black overalls like the ones that scuba divers wear.
But the most remarkable thing about their appearance was something else. Instead of a head, each had a smoky lump over his shoulders, clearly outlined at the edges and oval stretched vertically.
Sergei heard a voice that sounded not from the side, but spoke directly inside the skull of the young man. Kupaev was very frightened when he heard him. The voice, slowly pronouncing the words, buzzed in my head with a deafening alarm. He beat from the inside on the forehead, on the temples, on the back of the head, like a bell.
Promotional video:
A voice rumbled like a Jericho trumpet:
- Fly with us.
- Where? Kupaev asked in confusion.
- To a good place.
- What for?
- It should be so. It's in your best interest.
- I'm afraid.
- Do not be afraid. Everything will be fine. We flew. Well, do you agree?
Sergei did not rush to answer. He pondered, standing in confusion in the center of the strange room, not knowing what to say.
The voice repeated with insinuating urgency:
- Fly with us! You will be fine with us.
- Aren't you lying?
- No. It will be very good.
Kupaev rubbed his chin with his palm, puzzled.
“I don’t want to fly,” he said firmly, making a decision.
“And yet we demand that you agree to go with us,” a voice growled loudly.
- I don’t want to! - Sergei clenched his fists. “You see, I don’t want to. Let me go home.
A bright flash of light blinded the young man. He gasped softly, covering his eyes with his hands, and when he blinked, he took a deep breath in relief. He was sitting on the edge of the bed in his room, for some reason with his outstretched legs spread wide to the sides. The reels on the tape recorder rotated regularly, the soft sounds of music soothingly caressed the ear, and the lamp under the ceiling was shining at full intensity.
Within two days after the described incident, Sergei Kupaev suffered from headaches. A week later, the same incredibly loud voice, speaking as if into a megaphone, woke Kupaev up in the middle of the night. Hearing him, the young man closed his eyes tightly, seized with horror.
A voice that pounded like a bell in his brain said:
- It's us again. Fly with us.
Sergei was silent.
- We flew. Agree.
The youth continued to be silent.
“You have no idea what an amazing adventure you are giving up.
Silence is the answer.
- We'll come back to you, - said a voice with a threatening, as it seemed to Kupaev, intonation.
And it stalled.
Just like last time, Sergey woke up in the morning with a severe headache.
And a couple of weeks later, a new contact occurred, the last in a series of three attempts to persuade Kupaev to emigrate from Earth to no one knows where. In the middle of the night, some alien force literally threw Sergey out of bed and threw, instantly awakened, to the window.
Outside the window hung in the sky a "flying saucer" in the form of a biconvex lens with narrowed ends. Around her shone a halo that resembled brown in color. Kupaev insists on his definition of the color of the halo.
He says:
- For the first time in my life I saw a bright light of exactly brown color … But something else was much more stunned. I stood sideways to the window and at the same time saw the "plate" in the sky outside the window and … my own body, lying in the room on the bed.
A familiar voice growled:
- Immediately flew with us!
“I’ll never fly,” Sergei snapped back.
- Is this your final decision?
- Yes.
- Okay. But remember: after a while we will arrive again and still take you with us. The circumstances of your life will then be such that you will be forced to agree.
An invisible force pushed Kupaev away from the window. With a twitching step of a puppet, he walked across the room back to the bed and … lay down in his own body, stretched out in a free position on the bed. And then he passed out.
Whether anything happened to Sergei in subsequent years, unfortunately, remains unknown.