So, by this point everyone is no doubt well aware of the Area 51 memes and all the hubbub surrounding them. Apparently over one million people are set to storm the perimeter on September 20th of this year.

Should be interesting, but let’s be honest for a second, I doubt it will happen. And even if it did, even if by some ridiculous miracle they managed to overwhelm the most powerful military on earth and infiltrate a top-secret base, I don’t think they would be exactly thrilled with the results.

I’ll just come right out and say it I guess; Area 51 is a red herring. It’s a distraction and it pretty much always has been. Nothing out there but sand, reclusive scientists and some crusty-ass lake at this point.

I mean think about it, if Area 51 is one of the most top-secret and covert blacksite’s in the world, then why does everyone know about it? How secret can a secret be if everyone knows the secret? For god’s sake, even Obama acknowledged its existence awhile back. That’s the whole point of it, they want you distracted, so you don’t look for the others.

But why take my word for it? Who am I anyways? Just some pleb on the internet that decided to cash in on a trend for some clout and perhaps a bit of that sweet, sweet karma, right? Well yes… but actually no.

That may be who I am now, but I was once a person of particular interest to the United States government. Most people knew me as Mr. Blue. Not my real name, but it is easier to pronounce.

I used to be a pilot. Did that for many years and loved every second of it. I tell ya, there’s nothing quite like soaring through the skies and breaking the sound barrier for the first time. You might crap your pants a little, but it’s all just part of the experience really.

Now unfortunately, the type of work I did was above top-secret and for all of our safeties I cannot go into any further detail on what I actually did, or who I actually worked for. One day, I was out on a calssified reconnaissance mission in a certain area where I should not have been. I’ll apologize here for the vague details of certain things, but you gotta understand, the things I’m about to tell you are beyond top secret. They would kill me ten times over for uttering a word of it, so here’s to hoping that doesn’t happen.

Anyways, the mission was going as planned, when suddenly my instruments started going berserk on my dash. Air pressure inside the cabin just plummeted and the speed and fuel consumption gages looked like they were playing ping-pong with each other. Everything began to rattle like crazy, and my alarms erupted into a symphony of irritation.

Next thing I know, I see this bright light soar past me at an ungodly speed. The shockwave it produced was so violent that it shredded the hull of my craft. In a split-second, I went from casually flying along, to suddenly regaining consciousness as I plummeted headfirst towards the ground at terminal velocity.

I managed to pull my chute before I splattered, but as I touched down, I almost wished I hadn’t. There I was met by an awaiting entourage of at least two-dozen men in winter camo suits and masks. They all pointed their weapons at me and screamed in a language which I recognized as English.

I tried my best to calm them down and appear unthreatening, but that didn’t stop them from wrenching me into a pair of handcuffs and hauling me into one of their APC’s. They began to drive away, and the real severity of the situation hit me.

I was not going to be saved. The people I worked for had never said it, but it was always well known that if ever you were captured, than you were pretty much on your own.

With that in mind, I had no real incentive to keep my mouth shut once they started interrogating me. It may seem cowardly, but I was not about to be brutally tortured for a former ally which would never come to bail me out. Yeah, the government says they don’t torture people, but trust me, when they REALLY want to know something, there’s no tactic too extreme. And they really wanted to know something.

So, I told them. About who I worked for, what my mission was, where I grew up, all that jazz. It was all fabricated, but they took the bait regardless thanks to their severe distrust of the Russians at the time. They were actually pretty cool after that. I mean they wouldn’t let me leave their custody, but that was better than being dead. Or at least it was at first.

They transported me away from my initial interrogation place, into a secure facility somewhere nearby. I was blindfolded the whole time, but from the rumbling of multiple vehicles, sounds of doors sliding open multiple times, and the distinct feeling of my stomach dropping, I could tell they had taken me somewhere deep underground.

Soon after that, I stepped off the elevator and they removed my blindfold. Their leader was a guy with a stern face. Thick grey beard, and eyes that looked etched from concrete. He wore a black suit, with some symbol upon his heart pocket that I didn’t recognize. He stepped in front of everyone and outstretched his arms while staring me in the eye.

“Welcome to your new home.” An ever so slight grin slithered onto his face as he said it. I glanced down the dismal grey hallways, which seemed to stretch out further than I could see in multiple directions. They lead me down the hall on the right, past dozens of locked corridors and rooms before ushering me into a cell. My handcuffs were removed soon after, and the door slid shut behind me. The same man that had welcomed me to the facility then approached the window and pushed the intercom button.

“We appreciate your cooperation Mr. Blue. I don’t believe there is any reason why our time spent together has to be unfriendly. I apologize for all of this, but you must realize that this is a necessary precaution we must take. I hope you understand.” I took a moment, then nodded back to him.

“Wonderful, we will have dinner sent to you soon. If you require anything then please notify one of the guards outside of your quarters.” And with that, he and his little entourage turned and strolled down the hallway. That was my very first night in the facility I eventually came to know as F.E.Z.

I don’t think it’s the official name, but I heard several personnel at the base refer to it by that acronym over the years. I still don’t know exactly what it stands for. Forbidden Enclosed Ziggurat? Forsaken Evil Zoo? Forced Ejaculation Zeal? Fabulous Elf Zombies?

The best I could really come up with was Fortified Experimental Zone. It makes the most sense too, all things considered. At first it wasn’t actually too bad. The staff was nice, they cooked great food, and there was plenty to see around the base. Although every once in a while, I would hear the screams just barely echoing through the vents.

They interviewed me probably one hundred more times after that, and were especially interested in the craft which I was piloting. The craft in question was one of our own top-secret technologies, but unfortunately it had been blown to smithereens by whatever that light was, so I couldn’t tell them much about it.

It took years of incarceration there, but eventually the staff came to trust me almost as much as they did their own comrades. We would laugh and joke with one another, and soon enough we became what some might even consider to be friends.

I became especially close with one of the scientists there named Kevin. Kevin was a smart guy; comical too, and explained quite a lot of things to me. He and I would spend hours talking on countless occasions. He was my only real glimpse into what was happening in the outside world. He’d bring in books and movies for us to enjoy together. He kept me updated on everything, and over the next thirty years we developed a close friendship that I will always treasure.

I must’ve displayed some kind of intellectual potential, because they eventually started asking for my input on various curiosities stationed throughout the base. They only did it because I had sworn them complete loyalty and would never be allowed to leave the base anyways, but for me, it was just nice to feel included.

The base itself was absolutely colossal. They always blindfolded me during transport to any location, but one time I caught a glimpse of the buttons in the elevator. There had to have been at least fifty of them on that panel.

I remember the first time they showed me one of the lockdown blocks. There were guards posted at every cell, and I heard some very strange noises emanating around me as we traversed the halls. I thought for sure they were about to show me some horrendous beast from the depths of hell, and prepared myself accordingly as the howls of unseen things echoed throughout the halls.

The lead scientist; Dr. Rozsival, rolled back a two-way mirror curtain and my heart froze from anticipation. In the cell before us, there was nothing more than a human girl in a grey jumpsuit. She was young, maybe five-years old or so, but there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary about her.

I looked to Dr. Rozsival, and he flexed his cranial muscles before pressing a button. I heard the sound of gas seep into the room. A few tense seconds passed, when the girl suddenly shrieked like a banshee. Her head tilted back and I saw jagged, needle-like teeth emerge from her mouth. Her jet-black eyes then lurched towards us, and she lunged at the window.

She struck it hard, and fell back to the ground, snarling and hissing like some ravenous jackal. Dr. Rozsival then pressed the button again, cutting the gas and posing a question.

“You ever seen anything like her Mr. Blue?” All I could do was shake my head slowly as I watched the young demon-child stalk about on the other side of the glass.

“They found her in the woods outside of Whitehorse with a freshly disemboweled man. She was eating him, and appeared unaffected by the subzero temperatures.” I suddenly felt like vomiting, but I said nothing, only stared back at the unusually gruesome little girl. What the hell was she?

Unfortunately, I never was told anything else about her, and I doubt the personnel knew much more anyways. They came to show me a lot of very strange things over the years. A giant brownish-orange haired primate that walked upright and seemed to respond to facial movements. A humanoid shaped being that was only detectable via infrared equipment. A golden chest that would instantly kill anything that touched it. A ten-foot-tall creature wrapped in vines that emitted bouts of radiation and blended into environments with perfect camouflage. A monstrous fish at least eighty feet in length frozen in nitrogen. Various abhorrent creatures that I’m guessing were the results of relentless genetic tampering.

I had never seen anything like it. All of the monstrosities housed there, and the secrets buried in their possession. They also asked for my advice on a certain paradoxical phenomenon that had plagued them as well.

They told me that for decades there had been hundreds of unsolved cases of human disappearances that seemed to defy all explanation. Young children would be found on cliff edges that they could not have possibly reached, while old and frail people would be discovered dozens of miles away from where they had last been seen only a few hours later. Most of them would never be found at all though.

I could almost see the fear dripping from their eyes as they relayed case after case of the recorded incidents, and it was clear – although not said, that they had no idea what the cause was. Unfortunately, neither did I, as it was the first I’d ever heard of the bizarre phenomenon. I told them honestly that I didn’t believe my former allies were responsible, but I don’t know if that made them feel better or worse.

Throughout all of my years there I had always found one thing peculiar. After all the weird and terrifying things they showed to me, there was never any mention of extra-terrestrials. That’s what everyone thinks these blacksite facilities house after all, but nevertheless they made no mention of it. That made me smile a bit when I thought about it, because they had no idea how close they were.

The closest thing they had, was this weird tentacle creature with a ringed set of teeth in it’s mouth. It looked almost like an eel, but possessed four iridescent green eyes in a ring around it’s head. It didn’t live in the water either, but instead slithered around on the ground in a very swift and very unsettling motion. They said it’s DNA resembled nothing like anything they had ever found on earth before, hence the reason they believed – but were not certain of it’s otherworldly origins.

Kevin and I got to talking back in his quarters one night, as the rest of the crew retired for the evening. He shared with me a bit of his brandy, and we were content to just chat as friends late into the night.

He told me a lot about himself that he had never mentioned before. He showed me pictures of his wife, and his son that had been taken from him. Kevin admitted his son had died in a car crash a couple years back, while his wife passed two years later of cancer. It broke my heart to hear that, and I felt sorrow for my dear friend of some thirty years.

Kevin was in his early fifties, but you’d never know it with the enthusiasm in his voice. It was during that conversation, Kevin ended up mentioning something I found particularly interesting. He told that he believed that if an alien species existed, and were advanced enough to traverse the galactic canopy and reach Earth, then they would obviously be quite intelligent.

He said he didn’t believe in any of the Hollywood depictions of doomsday aliens hellbent on destroying humanity. He thought they’d be a lot more subtle then that.

“Think about it, you find something intelligent which represents almost no threat to you, and the first thing you do is try to kill it?” Kevin asked skeptically, as I considered his words for myself.

“That’d just be a waste, and no species that fancies themselves as advanced beings would do something so brash… at least I hope they wouldn’t.” He chuckled slightly and shot me a knowing look mixed with a unique intrigue that almost glistened in his grey eyes.

“Even if they thought we were destroying our own planet or something, why would they care? There are trillions of other planets in the milky way alone, they could pick any of them if they wanted natural resources.” I chuckled to myself, almost sensing where the conversation was headed.

“It’s not the planets we… they’re after.” I replied. Kevin snapped, and pointed his finger at me as his face lit up.

“Exactly. They’d want to study us. Learn how we operate, how we organize and how we live.” Kevin’s hand motions turned eccentric, and I saw his access badge jostle around his neck. He took another sip of brandy and continued.

“They’d probably learn more about us then we even know about ourselves. I mean, granted they have to be more intelligent. They could learn up close, understand how human’s work. They’d have no need for bloodshed when they could simply inconspicuously integrate into human culture. They have no doubt mastered the art of altering their biology to disguise themselves as humans. I mean, that’s nothing when compared with the tech they used to get here, y’know?”

He paused from his enthused monologue and wiped the steam off his glasses. I just sat back, content to let him continue, as I found it fascinating that he could know so much.

“Aliens… they’re not warlords. They’re poets, architects, authors, musicians. Beings that wish to create. It is the ultimate calling for an entity so powerful.” Kevin took a deep breath, and reveled in his own explanation. His speech had turned a bit slurred, and I could see his eyes floating lazily in their sockets. He then met my eyes in a look that he had never given to me before. It was a look that seemed to shed all sense of formality, and pose a question which he had long since suspected the answer to.

“You’re not really from Russia, are you?” The sudden accusation caught me off guard, and I felt my stomach drop like a lead weight. I didn’t say anything, and Kevin just scoffed.

“You had everyone fooled. And I mean, I was too for the longest time. You had had a suitable backstory, authentic sounding accent… all the alibis you gave us checked out.” He paused and clasped his hands in front of him.

“You look so authentic too, but there was one thing you missed. One thing that you just can’t fake.” He looked me deep in the eyes and fell silent. He didn’t have to say it, for I already knew what he meant. The eyes are impossible to truly fake.

“That night your… craft was shot down. What were you doing here?” Kevin and I maintained a prolonged eye lock before I finally responded.

“Reconnaissance.” For the first time in decades I dropped the Russian accent, as it was clear there was no longer any reason to lie to my dear friend.

“And what did you see?” Kevin stared into the very depths of my soul as he asked, and I spoke the truth.

“Beauty, poetry… creators, much like us.” Kevin just stared at me for the longest time, as if he were weighing my soul in his mind. I wondered what he planned to do since he had found out, but I didn’t ask.

Kevin eventually smiled, and rose to make his way to the cell door. He reached into his coat pocket, and withdrew a black-steel pistol with a long snout. I slowly met his gaze, and he chuckled.

“Mr. Blue, do you wish to go home?” I nodded after pausing to think for a moment. Kevin looked over his weapon, and primed it for use.

“I hope your allies can forgive us.” Without another word, he flashed his security badge and the locks on the door gave way. He motioned for me to rise and follow, and so I did.

Kevin glanced back and forth down the hallway, but due to the late hour, there was no one around. He and I sprinted down the corridor and onwards to one of the security booths. He flashed his badge as I hid just out of sight. He entered the room, and I heard the noise of a brief scuffle before two bright flashes ended it.

Kevin reemerged with wild eyes, and beckoned me to follow. He and I dashed down the hallway and reached the massive mainshaft elevator soon after. For the first time I entered without a blindfold, and Kevin punched the button to the top floor and the security code required to power it.

“Security system will be down for a good half-hour, but automated distress beacons have already been activated. That gives us about eight minutes.” Kevin dropped the clip from his pistol and popped in a fresh one. I saw spackles of blood on his glasses and cheek, and a frenzied look in his eye.

“Here take this.” He reached out his hand, and held something which I had not seen in decades. The old radio from my craft. I took it, and he and I met eyes as the elevator door opened.

It was back to running after that, but a few minutes of it and we had reached an underground parking facility. Kevin quickly unlocked a nearby vehicle, and the two of us hopped in as he fired it up. The engine roared to life, and Kevin accelerated through the lot. A moment later and we exited the underground facility, and I saw my first vision of the night sky in over four decades.

There were men stationed at the perimeter gates that attempted to stop us, but Kevin didn’t flinch. He crashed right through the wire fence on the perimeter, causing multiple lights to activate in our wake. I heard a siren blaring behind us, and the silhouettes of people dashing throughout the snow.

“There’s a suit in the back, put it on.” I did as he requested without question, and fit the snug polyester garment over my body. It covered every square inch from foot to the nape of my neck, and felt incredibly comfortable.

“There’s a dial on your right side. You can use it to mask your body heat. They’re gonna be after you.” He tossed a map into my lap and continued barking instructions.

“You can contact your friends with that radio, right?” His eyes flashed to me as he slid onto the main road and away from the compound.

“Yes.” Kevin nodded.

“Make your way north, they won’t be expecting that. There’s a river up there about thirty miles away through the forest. Once you find it, head east until you find a small town. Ask the guy at the post office for Mr. White. He’s a friend of mine who’s agreed to help you. He’ll take it from there.” I tried to digest the flow of information as best as I could and remain confident. It had all just happened so suddenly.

“I stashed you some MRE’s in the bag. Should last you a good couple of weeks.” Kevin then swerved around a corner and reoriented us onto a new dark road. In the sudden influx of adrenaline, a sudden though occurred to me.

“What happens to you?” Kevin didn’t seem to want to acknowledge the question.

“Forget about that, just get back to your people.” Behind us a flurry of lights suddenly ascended into the night sky. The whirring sound of rotary blades then pierced the tranquil canopy of the blustery night.

“Shit… I had hoped I could get you a bit farther than this.” He suddenly slammed on the brakes. My head lurched forward and the car spun back and forth along the icy road.

“Take this too.” He handed his long-barrel pistol over, and I hesitantly took it. He and I then met eyes for one final time.

“This is where we say goodbye Mr. Blue.”

“Why? Why are you doing this for me?” Kevin sighed, and I saw a certain sorrow swirl into his ironclad pupils. He stayed silent a moment, and only when the sounds of approaching engines grew louder was he spurred to reply.

“You don’t belong here. You don’t belong in a cage. I don’t know where you come from, but I want you to see the ones you love again.” His eyes began to water, and he jostled his neck before looking me in the eye one final time.

“I hope you don’t think of us as captors… or kidnappers. I hope you see us as you see yourself. I hope… I just hope you can understand.” A single tear then rolled down his cheek. I put my hand on his shoulder.

“I always have, and I always will. Thank you, Kevin.” I then held out my hand and he grabbed it tight as we shared one final moment, before I ventured into the blizzard.

The journey from then on was long and arduous, with me spending weeks trudging through snow, and frozen forests. Hounds, men and machines pursued me for days, but somehow, I was able to elude their efforts.

The terrain was brutal, unrelenting, but eventually I managed to find the river which Kevin had mentioned. By that point, all of my pursuers had long since gone silent. I followed the river, and found the town, and soon after the man known as Mr. White. He was a kind man, and gladly invited me into his house to avoid the agents. It is there that I have been ever since, awaiting my ally’s arrival.

They were stunned to hear from me again, but not as stunned as I was to find out the radio was still functional. They weren’t entirely sure whether they could even trust me anymore, but I didn’t leave them much of a choice when I threatened to go public and expose them to the world. They finally agreed, but admitted, it would be months before they could reach me.

I expected as much, and thankfully Mr. White allowed me to stay with him and await their eventual arrival. I found out soon after that my dear friend Kevin; to whom I owe my freedom and life, had been found deceased. The authorities ruled it a suicide; gunshot wound to the back of the head, but obviously I have my doubts about that.

It truly broke me to learn of my one true friend’s demise, but I knew it was what he expected. I like to think that is why he chose to do it, and furthermore it is the reason I am here posting this now. Kevin’s legacy deserves to live on, and this is the only way I know how to do it.

And with that, we have come full circle to this message you are reading right now. To address the original topic: Area 51 is indeed a reuse. Kevin held a lot of power in his previous role, and he told me all about the operation. The real prize is the FEZ, my former prison, somewhere in eastern Alaska, buried beneath the snow with all sorts of abhorrent things in it’s clutches. If you’re going to storm anywhere, that should be the place. Just remember to pack a coat.

Kevin was a smart man, brilliant even. If you’ve managed to make it this far, then I’d like to think you are someone like him. Brave, curious and with an almost innate sense of wonder that cannot be satiated.

It is my hope that Kevin’s ideas will live on through you. My allies would never approve of this message, but I know now that they are wrong. Truth is something that all sentient beings should be allowed to perceive, despite how unpleasant it may be to hear it.

It was Kevin’s belief that the beings he knows as aliens are already here. That instead of murdering humans as is often portrayed in stories, they would blend in. Take keen interest in human culture, society and art. Write books, poetry and music in hopes of connecting to something truly extraordinary. Something that reminds them of themselves.

If Kevin is right, then maybe one day, you’ll even stumble upon such a story for yourself. Maybe you’ll think it nothing more than a work of fiction to entertain you for a while. Maybe the author of said theoretical story would seem like nothing more than your run-of-the-mill internet user. He probably wouldn’t just come right out and say it, because that would be entirely too corny. He would probably just leave you the pieces, and hope that you could understand the truth for yourself.

Maybe you truly are like Kevin, drawn to mystery and prepared to entertain the fantastic. Maybe you’ll just dismiss the implications of the words before you because you don’t dare believe something so outlandish, because in the end truth is not the problem, belief is. Maybe someone will understand who- or more importantly what I really am. Maybe it will be you.

Either way, I’ve been away for a very long time. It is time for me to go home. Thank you, Kevin. I will always remember our agreement.