I've never been a person who's into UFOs or anything like that. I sometimes thought of the possibility, but left it as a passing thought, never truly pursuing it. I'm not even sure if this can even qualify as a 4th kind encounter, because I'm not sure what this was at all. I do know now that some myths about UFOs are true, however. At least in some form. About a week ago, I was sitting outside at night. I had just moved into an apartment, and said apartment didn't like smoking inside, so I was forced to light up outside. It's already an expensive hobby, I don't want any fines or anything to go on top of it. It was unusually cold, despite being summer. Nothing cool, freezing, or even paranormal or anything, but maybe 2-5 degrees colder than most nights "should" be.
I was midway through a drag when something rustled. I stopped my drag, and just looked towards where the noise was coming from. Many people tend to lose their cats, and I guess that's what I was expecting at the time. Noticing I still had hot smoke in my lungs, I began to cough furiously, and thought nothing more of the noise.
About 10 minutes later, the noise came back. This time, I was just finishing the cigarette and smothering the cherry. It was just a rustle for a few seconds, nothing elongated or meaningful. I put the butt in a plastic bag. For some reason I decided to stay out a couple minutes more. I had no real reason to do so. I think I made excuses as to why, like "I have nothing to do inside" or "It's nice and cool out", but I had absolutely no reason. I just stood there, bag in hand, staring at the large bush where the noise had been coming from. Waiting. Almost in some sort of trance.
Just seconds later, there was a voice. It was like the recordings you'd hear on really old dolls, or at least the same quality, when they first started to talk. It held no gender or tone, but wasn't quite a child's voice, either. It simply said: "Help me."
The hair stood on the back of my head. I quickly began to reassure myself that it was probably the same doll I described. For some reason or another it decided to go off, and, for some reason or another, it was very disturbing. Or maybe it was one of those noise makers that says different quotes. I didn't flinch, or move to investigate to confirm my doubt. I just stood there, completely still, looking at the bush.
The same voice came a second time: "Help me." My hair began to stand again, without relenting. Rather than actually pursue the voice, I still just stood. I'm not sure what was going through my mind at the time. I don't even know if I was thinking anything at all. I was locked with fear and curiosity.
Suddenly, something came from the bush. It came towards me, slowly, with a limp. It held its arm over its... chest, I suppose. I can't say for sure what it was. I've never seen anything like it, not in person at least. I suppose some would call it a "Roswell Grey", the alien, but it was different... It was... blue. An ocean-like blue. And the proportions were wrong. It was much more skinny. I could see its "ribcage", and its stomach was no bigger than an arm's width. It was a bit taller than an alien, but not by much. The "teardrop" head was completely abscene, rather being replaced by an almost human head, removed of ears with a nose that looked like it was caved in. Its eyes were large, but apparently squinting, with no truly discernible pupils. Squinting like it was focusing. Its mouth was a thin line, perhaps lacking larger lips, or maybe even being beak-like in nature. Other features made it seem... Old.
I went completely cold. Tears of fear filled my eyes.
It released the voice. Its mouth moved, but only barely, as if it was letting the sound escape rather than actually speaking. "Help me." The sound was exactly the same, like it was prerecorded.
I stammered and looked for words. "W-... What... Are y-you?"
It looked at me, tilting its head, as if trying to understand, or out of passive annoyance.
I noticed now that its arm was covering what seemed to be a wound, yet its face bore no sign of pain.
I braved up a bit, now having sympathetic feelings kicking in, and began to inch closer to the being. It never took its eyes off of where I was, as if I had disappeared and it was paying attention to something that took my place.
I leaned down to get under its chest. Moving slowly, I touched its arm gently. It felt smooth, like tile, but it felt as if it had no muscle whatsoever.
I looked up at the being, as if asking permission, but it just kept looking ahead, where I use to stand. I began gently moving its arm, and it let me, completely relaxing the arm.
I moved the being's arm away from its chest... And saw a large, deep gash. It looked like an entire part of its torso had been removed. A dark blue liquid, what I can only assume to be blood, was leaking out of the wound.
"Help me." It said again, as if that was all it knew.
I looked in its chest, and saw a flesh-like film near the back, moving and throbbing, like its heart was just on the other side. The bones of this half of its supposed ribcage had either been moved aside or removed altogether in... Whatever accident or incident the being was involved in.
"W-what do you want me to do?" I said, looking up to it for some kind of answer. Any.
"Help me." It responded. I don't remember hearing any difference, but something about that statement was different this time, as if directly answering.
"H-...H-how?" I was quaking. My throat felt as if it was starting to close. It was like a mixture of fear and intense sadness.
"Help me." It responded simply.
"H-how? Please tell me how!" I was begging it. I just wanted to know how to help it so it could go. I don't know why. I felt its presence weighing down on me every second it was around. Like it controlled some part of me.
The being's head craned to look at me, and despite it lacking pupils, it locked its eyes right with mine. After a second, it released a phrase I would never wish to hear again; sounding almost the same as the first phrase, but with an almost darker tone, it uttered two simple words: "Kill me."
My breathing increased rapidly. My heartbeat was going so quickly I felt it was about to burst. Every muscle in my body tensed, and relaxed, painfully. I couldn't. I shouldn't. I screamed back, "No!"
It looked at me for a few more seconds, then spun its head up to the clouds and began to wail. I was knocked aback. It seemed as if it was in true anguish now, and that all the pain it had felt it was simply bottling up for this moment. The release was so intense that I began feeling pain, myself. The noise was almost earshattering, but the pain was in my chest. I couldn't take it. I knew of only one way to stop it.
I grabbed a rock nearby... And smashed the being in the head. It fell quickly, and simply, to the blow.
It didn't die immediately, but the sound did. I watched its eyes. I shouldn't have been able to tell, but I knew it was looking at me. It sighed in relief, relaxing, satisfied that the pain was over. Its eyes closed... And it faded out.
I sat there for a while, looking at the being. So many questions I had would never be answered. It all happened in the span of less than 20 minutes... No more. I would never learn where it came from, why, how it knew English, or what happened. My fear began to die down, and I began to feel deeply depressed.
I had never killed anyone before. I had never intentionally gone out of my way to kill anyone, or anything... Especially like this. But, the feeling was different. I don't know why I know. It didn't feel life taking, but a hopeless, and useless feeling. That I couldn't do anything.
I sat there and began to weep. It soon turned into bawling, as I curled around the being's corpse. I did so for at least 15 minutes before no more tears could come out, and continued on for another 5 regardless. Then, I decided what needed to be done. I found the snow shovel that the apartment complex provided... And buried the being where it lie.
I was hesitant to actually put it in the hole, but I couldn't let it lie there. I picked it up, feeling it be incredibly light, and placed it in the hole, which was only about a foot deep. I then carefully covered it with the dirt, and flattened the land to the best of my ability. I then went inside, threw my cigarette bag away along with my remaining, almost full, pack, and went to bed.
I want to leave here. But I know I can't. Not until I know that no one will find it. No one must ever find it.
I haven't smoked since. I hardly even step outside at night anymore. Every time it gets cold, I'm reminded of that emotionless face, that sorrowful howl, and those horrid two words. The image haunts me, and I don't know when it will stop.
This morning, however, when I woke up, I found myself covered nice and tightly, a feeling I hadn't had since I was a very small child.
A dark, blue stain lined the tops of my blanket. I felt warm, and satisfied.