Something Happened in Alaska 16 Years Ago That You Were Not Supposed to Know About

I’ll keep my introduction short, I was never really good at them anyways, but this time I feel it’s mainly how nervous I am.

In order to protect the identity of myself and the others in this account, I’ll be using aliases and leave out certain details that won’t take away from the the story itself in anyway. I’ll refer to myself as Whitley. Reddit seems like a place I can…. Well…. Leak this information without It being noticed or taken seriously. I’ve kept this secret for 16 years, but unfortunately, despite the risk to myself and my family, I’ve decided to I need to come clean in some sort of way.

So, here’s my story:

I grew up in Fairbanks, Alaska. Fairbanks is more or less just like most cities in the lower states, just surrounded by the stereotypical frozen nothingness of Alaska. Anyways, as many young men and women do, I joined the Military at age 18 and long story short by 2002, I found myself stationed in Fairbanks at Fort Wainwright.

It was a strange time for the Military in the Post-9/11 wake. Kids were joining the Military more than ever of course, but I mean strange in a different way. The Military’s metaphorical ego had be dented by a group of terrorist hijackers, and now the Military as a whole was, for lack of a better word, paranoid. It was the equivalent of Mike Tyson being slapped in the face in public by another man. Radars were revamped and were constantly monitored in order to avoid another attack on American soil, and it’s partially because of this that I’m sitting here with a story to tell.

Something Happened in Alaska 16 Years Ago

On March 13th, 2002, Multiple Military and Civilian radar detected an object enter Alaskan Airspace and presumably crash in the nearby Yukon Flats Wildlife Refuge. I was selected along with 10 other men by one of our superiors, Brown, on what we were calling a “search and rescue mission” to locate the crashed object. A few things were off about this operation. It was treated almost like a full out exercise, we were told to essentially dress for war. At the time, I assumed this was due to the stigma surrounding suspicious plane crashes, now I’m not so sure. Another reason things were so strange, was that one of highest ranking officers at the base, Hatfield, was to accompany us on this mission. That didn’t make sense to me at the time, why would they send the aged Hatfield out to the middle of a frozen wasteland to identify a plane crash when Brown was more than capable? I’d soon have answers to that.

The Helicopter ride was shorter than expected. In one Helicopter was Myself, Hatfield, Brown, Flynn, Bradshaw and Dobbs. In the other was Brown’s 2nd in command, Anderson (who was now 3rd in command on this mission), Carter, Ramos, Smith, Wallace, and Morgan. Of course, there were 2 pilots as well.

Hatfield was a quiet, well mannered man. He had always been well respected and feared in the ranks as a leader. But when we made it over the last ridge as saw what we had come looking for, he changed. The sight we were met with as the moon lit up the otherwise dark Alaska night, was a massive, dark gray, cylindrical object burning in a fiery blaze in a large clearing surrounded by nothing more than snow, trees, and a nearby pond. It was more or less the size of a 747, but no wings of propulsion system were visible on this thing.

At first glance, I thought it was a place, or an experimental aircraft either from here or Russia. Hatfield’s new demeanor told a different story.

“That’s a big ass fucking plane” said Dobbs, who was met of a glare of pure fury and annoyance by Hatfield. He glared at him through uncomfortable silence mixed with the chopping of the propellers until snarling “Yeah, I fucking wish it was a plane”.

When we finally landed, it was pretty clear to all of us what we were dealing with, none of us wanted to say it. We silently understood and followed the orders Hatfield angriley barked at us and we landed and told to approach the object with weapons drawn as the surrounding flames began to quickly die down, overwhelmed by the frigid temperatures.

Hatfield ordered us to stop when he felt we were close enough, and it was then when we all seemed to notice the bystander walking towards us with his hands raised in a mix of a greeting wave and a surrender.

Hatfield seemed annoyed more than anything else when we landed, and the presence of this bystander pissed him off more than anything.

“Can y’all believe this!?!” the older man said, “Do y’all know what in the hell this this even is?”

Hatfield looked at the ground for a moment, shook his head, then walked up to shake the man’s hand.

“What exactly did you see here this evening sir?” asked Hatfield with an overwhelmingly sarcastic smile. He was somehow sweating almost profusely in the chilly Alaskan night.

“Well” said the bystander “My house is a little bit in that direction. I heard this thing crash and you’re seeing exactly what I saw when I made my way over”.

Hatfield looked him directly in the eye the whole time, smiling and nodding like a madman. That must explain Hatfield’s next course of action.

“That’s not the answer I was looking for my friend” said Hatfield. This comment drew an expression of confusion on the bystanders face, similar to the one he one he would wear after Hatfield drew a pistol and shot him in the chest 4 times.

We all stood there in a state of shock and simultaneous understanding. He had just murdered an innocent man, but all for the perceived well being of the rest of humanity.

“Let that be a lesson to all of you who don’t understand” bellowed Hatfield. “No one is to find out about what happens or has happened here tonight unless you are asked about it by your superiors, or else you may end up like this man, who just tragically died in a hunting accident a minute ago”.

None of us were new to the Military, we knew that though any and all of the shady shit we would see in our service, our best options were to follow orders and ask no questions. Speaking of following orders, Hatfield broke the silence and ordered us to investigate the crashed object.

It had broken up into few sections, but they remained adjacent to each other. We entered through the break in the ship that was closest to what we assumed to be the front. The interior of this thing was, fittingly, straight out of a Sci Fi film. The walls of the elongated control room were covered in unfamiliar technology and strange writing. I should’ve seen this coming, but the sight of two humanoid bodies slouched against the wall to my right freaked me out pretty bad.

The beings were around 5 feet tall, skinny, and with pale grey skin and long appendages. Upon seeing them, Brown let out a surprised “Well wouldn’t you fucking know it, it’s goddamn ET’s parents”.

Hatfield took one look at them, and angrily muttered “Of all the people that could’ve had to deal with cleaning this type of shit up, it just had to be me.” He pulled out his radio to talk to the Helicopter Pilot “Guardian 1, this is Hatfield, do you copy, over?”.

“Guardian 1 copies, Hatfield, what’s your status, over?” The radio crackled.

“Tell the base that we got a code Orion Level 5 and that they gotta get a crew out here ASAP to clear this out. Tell em it’s a big haul and that they gotta get as many vehicles and men up here as protocol will allow, over.” said Hatfield, noticeably trying to suppress his own nerves.

“Copy that Hatfield, over”.

“Alright, let’s keep moving” said Hatfield, pointing toward the back of the object. We continued our search until we came across a room toward the back of the ship. The room had been broken in a few areas on both sides, leading to the outside. In the room, there was another body, but something was different. While this body was the same type as those in the front of the ship, it was visibly torn apart. The one mark that stood out was a massive hole that went straight through the torso of the being.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to that one?” asked Anderson. It looked like someone had taken a light pole and just thrown it through the damn thing like a javelin.

In the room, there appeared to be 2 giant side rooms made of different material than the rest of the interior. We determined they were some type of cell, but for what?

“Hatfield, come take a look at this” said Bradshaw from the break in the ship that faced the opposite side that we had landed and entered. Hatfield walked over, and upon seeing what Bradshaw intended him to, let out a soft and worrying “Oh my good Lord”.

We all walked over to see what they were looking at, a trail of huge, circular tracks, leading out from the object to the nearby treeline. I’m sure that everyone else there put it together just as soon as I did. Whatever was in one of those cells broke out on landing, killed that thing in the room with it, and escaped into the Alaskan Wilderness. Perhaps worst of all, we were the ones that were going to have to go hunt it down.

Bradshaw and Flynn were the lucky bastards that got to stay behind and wait for the “cleanup crew” to arrive, while the rest of us were to go with Hatfield and Brown to find that thing before it made it too far. I wasn’t exactly sure if the directive was to take the thing alive or kill it when and if we found it, all I knew was we were going in blind to hunt down God knows what had been held captive on that ship.

The forest was pitch black compared to the clearing the crash site was in. The upper canopy of the foliage was so dense that the only source of light eventually became the lights on our rifles as we made our way in formation through the woods, following Hatfield as he in turn followed the thing’s tracks.

Compared to the rest of the men I had ever served with, I’d consider the group I was with to be the most elite collection of individuals I’d ever been apart of. These weren’t kids, these were men. These were the finest soldiers that Fort Wainwright had to offer, and there was a reason they had sent them here, because they knew that anything could’ve possibly crashed here, even something out of our worst nightmares. From the very beginning, we were all focused and professional. We had a job to do, and unlike most of the younger men and women at the base, there was going to be no dicking around on this one.

It didn’t take long for us to find where the tracks led, we found ourselves looking into a massive cave carved into the base of one of the nearby mountains.

Hatfield drew his pistol and turned to us, “On your toes, gentleman, we got em. Brown, take point, the rest of you follow with me”.

The cave was massive with many different compartments, but none of them had much depth to them, so we continued through the main tunnel until Brown stopped the line and muttered a “Mother of God” to the rest of us.

He shown his flashlight at a grizzly bear, probably 500-600 lbs, left in the same condition as the being we had found in the cell room. It too had a massive, circular puncture hole identical to the tracks we had followed. It was sat slumped against the cave wall, dead.

You could almost feel each man in that cave compartment slowly retract into their inner child, as primal fear came over them. This thing we were hunting had walked into a grizzly bear’s home, kicked its ass, and left it for dead. If it could do that to a bear, imagine what it would do to us.

Wallace was the one that had the misfortune of saying what the majority of us were thinking, “We gotta get the fuck outta here now”.

He got the death stare from Hatfield, who proceeded to get in his face. “Quit being such a pussy Wallace. Man has been killing bears for centuries. We turn those fuckers into rugs with the snap of our fingers. We got a job to do, take this thing out, and as your superior, I’m ordering you all to do it! Any questions?”

The compartment fell silent, our courage somewhat restored. We remembered, we were men and we had a job to do.

The compartment we were in, clearly the bears former lair, split off into 3 tunnels. Brown took Smith and Wallace through the tunnel on the right, Anderson took Carter and Ramos through the tunnel on the left, and I went with Morgan, Dobbs, and Hatfield through the middle tunnel.

We were silent the whole time. Sure, I had questions, but I sure as hell wasn’t about to ask Hatfield any of them. We went through until the the tunnel became too small for us to continue, so we began to head back up to the compartment.

Since radio communications didn’t work in the cave, we agreed that we would all meet up in the compartment if we finished our search, or if something went wrong. When we were about half of the way back, we began to hear shots being fired and the screams of our fellow servicemen. We sprinted back up the tunnel to the compartment, where Brown and his group were already waiting for us.

“It sounds like it came from from Anderson’s group”, said Brown.

“Well let’s get the fuck down there then. Whitley, you’re on point.” said Hatfield, trying desperately to mask his nerves.

We made our way quietly down the tunnel, trying to move as efficiently as possible. The reality was that if no one from Anderson’s group had met up with as by now, something had gone very wrong.

Since I was on point, I was the the first one to see Ramos when we turned a blind corner in the cave. He was sitting up against the cave wall, clearly trying to stay hidden from something. We he saw us, he breathed a sigh of relief and quickly sprung up, motioning us to stay quiet.

For the life of me, I will never know what possessed Hatfield to loudly ask “Ramos, what in the hell happened down here”, but they very moment he did that, it was if Satan himself opened the Gates of Hell onto us.

From out of the dark abyss behind Ramos, a massive, pale red appendage drove straight through his body. Our rifle lights shown onto something I don’t think my mind would be able to construct itself in my worst nightmare. A massive, mantis like creature had just impaled Ramos, whose body was then flung into me from a good 15 feet away, knocking me back into the group.

The rest was a total blur of carnage and bullets. When I saw first person turn to flee, I did the same. I took one fleeting glimpse back around the corner to see a group of fully armed, experienced military veterans, arguably the very top of the food chain on our planet, being ripped to shreds by this thing. Sure, we were the top of the food chain here, but this thing wasn’t from here.

I followed the 3 men that had fled from the cave in front of me, we sprinted for God knows how long on pure fear and adrenaline until we reached the clearing, where reinforcements from the base had arrived and were clearing up the wreckage. In fact, another superior of ours, Banks, was on our way to find out where our group had gone to with a group of his own, since we had been out of communication for a while.

I looked at the remainder of the group that had fled, it was Myself, Brown, and Wallace. There had been another, but we weren’t sure who it was or where the were.

“Gentlemen, what happened to Hatfield and the rest of your group?” inquired Banks.

Brown somehow was in a mental state in which he could answer that question, “They’re dead Sir, there’s something out there…. something…. from that ship, and we….. we couldn’t stop it.

Banks was oddly calm when he heard this, “And where is this “thing” now, Brown?”

“We followed it to a cave….. And that’s where it…. It happened” said Brown.

Banks nodded, “Gentlemen, you spent evening that the base today, March 13th, 2002. During that time, an accident occurred that led to the loss of Hatfield and the rest of your group. The nature of this accident made it so that their bodies were unable to be recovered. Am I clear?’

We all nodded. It was over for them, and it was finally over for us. We were sent back to Fort Wainwright and questioned by our superiors about what happened, each time being told that we were to not speak of the incident unless spoken to about it by one of them, and that we were at the base all day, where an accident that happened. Something with fuel tanks or whatever.

While this haunted my existence for the next few years, I knew I had no choice but to put it behind me, so that’s what I did. One day, a few buddies of mine pulled me aside and told me what had happened after I left the scene.

Banks had ordered a massive sweep of the area of the cave with a much larger force than we had gone in with. They found something disturbing. Morgan was the other man that had fled the cave with us. They knew this because not too far from the cave, they found his body, impaled and slammed into a tree with such force that the tree had been knocked down. The thing’s tracks leading from the body showed that it had fled into the wilderness, and was long gone.

Inside the cave, they found and identified the bodies of Hatfield, Anderson, Ramos, Carter, Smith, and Dobbs, all torn apart by that thing. It was like the bullets didn’t even effect it. It just kept mowing them down, like a machine.

Now that I’ve left the Armed Forces, moved, and had time to think, I finally made the decision to tell the truth in a way that, hopefully, won’t hurt me or my family. I set this account up using information that will be difficult to trace to me, and I even went as far as to post this using a computer at a public library in a State I don’t even live in. Hopefully, you take this information for what it’s worth, because that thing’s still out there, and only God knows where it is and what it’s capable of.