Alternate Perceptions Magazine, March 2019
A brief journey to hell?
by: Albert S. Rosales
Date: autumn 1992
Local artist Sergei E. Nikolaev (missing his right hand below the elbow as a result of being wounded in the Afghan war) had a studio in the basement of his house located at number 7 Kubyshev Street. Around midnight on the day in question he was painting a mural in his basement (flower landscape) when he ran out of red paint. He went from the room in which he painted to the next room, adapted as a rest room, where in addition to a sofa, there was a table and a night-table in which the paint tubes were stored. Sergei redeveloped the area installing a door on the wall between the rooms, and an extra entrance from the cellar corridor to the rest room, where the events took place. This entrance was shut securely in case of any intruders.
Bending down at the night table to obtain paint, Sergei suddenly heard a man’s voice which seemed to emanate from his chest cavity up to his head. It said, “Turn around.” Sergei felt frightened and for some time was afraid to turn his head. When he finally looked, he saw on the side passage hammered onto the corridor door, a naked woman crucified on hooks! The woman was a terrifying, bloody sight. Her hands were nailed to the door with old rusty hooks. There were also hooks protruding from her torn chest, abdomen and genital area. Her head was titled down, her light skin and hair almost merged with the door’s white color, which only contrasted with her dark blood which according to Sergei “was a lot.” As he stared transfixed at the crucified woman, the door on which she was crucified upon began to slowly open and a young man with a very pale face peeped in and shaking his head, and pointing to the woman said, “I did this to her.”
He completely opened the door with the crucified woman still hanging to it. He then entered the room. His height was about 5’9”, short light brown hair. He was wearing a brown sweater, dark blue branded jeans and sports sneakers. With his last words, the lightbulb on the ceiling flickered out.
Almost immediately the room was filled with scattered, green-blue lights and the space around it became noticeably larger. The walls of the room seemed to move apart or stretch back. Everything that was in the room before vanished. There was no one in the room, and the door which had been clogged with nails, took on its former appearance. The woman had also disappeared. Gradually, in the middle of the room, a turquoise-colored column of light appeared, glowing from within, much brighter than its surrounding space. The luminous cylinder had clearly defined boundaries, not reaching to the ceiling and a base about 20cm. Its vertical dimension was approximately 170cm, and the diameter was about 60-70cm, and it was slowly rotating clockwise. Then something else incredible happened (what else?!). Shapes began to emerge from the light column. These were what appeared to be half-decayed bodies of deceased persons in rags! These figures had rotten, blackened flesh clinging from their bones and facial areas. Sergei could detect no odors. After a while a circle of seven to ten decayed bodies lined the ceiling, slowly spinning clockwise like the light-column.
Looking around him, Sergei fell into a state of shocked horror, thinking at the same time that he had suddenly lost his mind. Then he saw lining the walls, enclosed in a greenish shade, metal-frame chairs with elderly people and children sitting on them, talking among themselves. It was impossible to make out what they were saying, but all of a sudden they all jumped out and began to run. A possible cause of the fright was the appearance of a man dressed in a black coat, a white shirt, and black ties. He had also emerged from the light-column. The man’s face and skin were very pale as if devoid of blood. The man then spoke to Sergei, “Don’t be afraid of us.” At this point, Sergei fell into a state of complete euphoria. Next came a second man, almost a double to the first one, but he remained standing the whole time behind the first man as if attempting to conceal himself.
The first man continued his dialogue. “Do you want to leave with us.?” He asked. “Of course, I really want to,” said Sergei, apparently still under the euphoric influence. “Then go and sign” said the first man, now standing by the table which was not far from the nightstand containing the paint. Sergei got up from the couch and went to the table while the stranger made a smooth gesture with his hand and a sheet of paper appeared on the table. He repeated the gesture and a black and gold pen appeared in his hand. He handed the pen over to Sergei, and told him, “Sign with your right hand”. Frightened Sergei looked down and was stunned to see that his right hand was now back. Picking up the pen, he bent down to sign, but then the second man turned to the first man and uttered a single phrase, “Do not forget about the needle”. “Oh yes” the first man answered, and in his hand appeared a sharp needle-like instrument about 5cm long, a blue light shone from its tip. The man then inserted the sharp needle into the fold of Sergei’s right thumb. With the needle still in his thumb Sergei leaned over the piece of paper, that was absolutely plain and dared ask the question, “What I am signing?”
The stranger answered, “Do not worry, when the time comes, we’ll write everything down” and Sergei signed. Right after that, his right hand, the pen, the paper – everything disappeared. At this point the light-column began to rotate counter-clockwise. Both men, in silence, turned around and walked back into the light-column. First the second figure and when it was the first figure’s turn, Sergei asked, “But what about me?” The entity/alien (or whatever he or it was) who had his back to Sergei, turned his head back unnaturally “like an owl” almost 180 degrees and answered: “You will come with us when your time comes.” Both figures then disappeared into the light column which seemed to disappear into the wall. At this very instant the lightbulb on the workshop turned back on and Sergei sat on the sofa. After sitting on the sofa for a while Sergei suddenly heard the same voice in his head again: “Come to the mirror.”
However, he was afraid, fearing the repetition of the previous events and with a sinking heart he tiptoed to the mirror and with a sigh of relief did not see anything out of the ordinary. But the voice immediately said again, “Turn your back.” Sergei turned and saw what appeared to be a ‘tail’ behind him, thick, black and at the tip a tassel. An interesting detail was that the tail was only visible in the mirror, apparently just a demonstration or reminder of what had happened this night.
Fascinating account to be sure and I venture to say that there is no parallel worldwide in the Ufological world. What were the entities that visited the artist that night? Extraterrestrials? Inter-dimensionals? Demons? Wish I knew.