Good evening. I'm calling from Sacramento, and I've got a story from September of '64 that I've been carrying around for a long time now. My name's Derek, and back then I was working as a welder at Aerojet. Polaris missiles, Titan missiles, that kind of work. My buddies Tim and Vince, we decided to go bow hunting up near Cisco Grove, about sixty miles northeast of here in the Tahoe National Forest. We set up camp on Friday, September 4th. The plan was simple, you know? We'd spread out through the woods, stay within shouting distance, hunt for deer. If we got separated when it got dark, no big deal. We were all experienced outdoorsmen. We'd just find a safe spot to spend the night and meet back at camp come morning. Firearms weren't allowed in the National Forest that time of year, so we were all using bows. I preferred it that way anyway. Quieter, more authentic. So dusk rolls around, and I realize I've gotten myself turned around. I'm calling out to Tim and Vince, but nothing. No response. Temperature's dropping, and I'm standing on this bluff maybe a mile from camp. I've got my military-style belt with me, the kind you can use to secure yourself in a tree. I figure that's smarter than camping on the ground with bears and mountain lions around. I find a decent pine, first branch about twelve feet up. I use the rocks on the cliffside to climb up and get myself settled in for the night.
I hadn't been up there long when I see this light in the distance. And it's moving strange, you know? Zig-zagging through the trees at low altitude, heading right toward me. My first thought is, oh good, Tim and Vince got a helicopter to search for me. So I jump down from the tree and I start lighting my flares. Three of them. I'm waving my arms, yelling, trying to get their attention. But as this thing gets closer, I realize it's not a helicopter. Not even close. It stops about fifty yards from my position, just hovering there. It's spherical, glowing, unlike anything I'd ever seen. The craft was massive too, cigar-shaped, maybe the size of a fourteen-story building from what I could make out blocking the stars. Then I see this smaller craft, like a module or scout ship, come out from the bigger one and land on a hill maybe half a mile away. I get back up that tree real quick, make sure my bow's ready. Fear's just pouring through me at this point. And that's when I hear it. Rustling in the brush,[ coming toward me. Getting closer.
Three figures come out of the darkness and head straight for my tree. Two of them are humanoid, a little over five feet tall, wearing these silvery suits that covered their heads. They had something on their faces that looked like welding goggles. The third one, though. The third one was different. It looked like a robot. Darker in color, with two reddish-orange eyes. And where its mouth should be, there's this slit, like an oven door. They start shaking the tree. I'm holding on with everything I've got. Then the robot, it lets this lower jaw thing drop open, reaches inside that rectangular gap, and this white vapor shoots out. Comes right at me. Next thing I know, I'm waking up. Can't have been out more than a minute or two because they're still down there, still trying to get me out of that tree. I feel sick to my stomach, like I'm gonna throw up. I start lighting matches, the ones I use for my flares, and dropping them down at these things. They back off when the fire gets near them, but they don't leave. They just wait, then come back. I manage to load an arrow, and I let it fly right at that robot. Hit it dead on. Sparks everywhere. I fire two more arrows as fast as I can, and they scatter. But before I can even catch my breath, a second robot shows up. And that white vapor hits me again. Lights out.
[ Story continues in the full game... ]