Man obsessed with aliens.

Tomas by nature was not a fearful man. Even when the doors closed and he found himself in total darkness, he never once suspected or understood. But the truth surfaced in this dark and dismal place.

Tomas was afraid. Fear clawed at his fragile state of mind. He was a prisoner aboard an alien ship. That fact alone was not enough to bring the fear that engulfed his mind. It was the isolation and the blackness that finally wore him down.

For three months, Tomas had seen no light--no other humans. Not even the sounds of the air vents and the creek of metal grinding alleviated that which plagued him. He was alone. A prisoner living within a small room--not knowing what fate held for him.

Tomas by nature was an intelligent man. Even as a child, his need to understand was all consuming. And yet he never imagined that as an adult his inquisitive nature would bring about his defeat.

His friend had filled his mind with tales of abduction . . . alien abductions. So fascinated was Tomas, that he investigated these phenomena in the only way he knew how. He personally got involved. He read everything he could about it; he interviewed abductees’ and had even attended several UFO Conferences. And from all of this, Tomas concluded that he too had been abducted.

Of course, Tomas was never one to do things half measures, so he decided to get hypnotized. How else could he prove to himself that he had been abducted? How else could he fill in the missing time that plagued him? And so, Tomas was hypnotized, but the outcome was not as he expected. No, Tomas had never been abducted; Tomas had been reborn.

Incredible but true . Tomas was convinced. He was an extraordinary man . . . he was an alien. He was an old soul having been born and reborn, over and over again. Tomas had been an alien in one of his previous lives. He had been an alien; one of those seven feet tall gray beings that he had read about. And still this was not enough. He had to experience it first hand. He would have to be abducted. But how, he wondered. How?

The answer was simple . . . for Tomas by nature was an intelligent man. A man whose mind was full of wondrous insights. All he had to do was concentrate. All he had to do was reach within himself and use that sixth sense that had been locked away, unchallenged and unused.

And so . . . he did. He called out, using that sense. He shrieked within his mind, calling and begging for their attention . . . calling and begging for his apprehension. And come . . . they did.

Yes, they came for him; all of them dressed in white, looking no different than us. Acting no different than our own kind of doctors, talking about his mind, talking about his delusions.

And so . . . Tomas sits alone. His mind in darkness, his body wrapped around itself, his mind calling out for help. But no one hears, for Tomas is a prisoner aboard an alien ship, his destination uncharted, his destination unknown.