As the aliens in 1984 killed the Rostov pensioner Viktor Burikov

Viktor Danilovich Burikov , the oldest Rostov journalist, died in 1984 at the age of 80, having been sick for three months. Death came as a result of a slow, gradual paralysis of the hands, legs, then the heart

A month before his death, Burikov told friends who gathered at his bed, about the following:

- Guys, I know that I will soon die, and there is nothing to lose to me, except for life. Listen to me carefully. The doctors are wrong. I'm not dying of old age, but because I was infected with an unknown disease by extraterrestrials. Before, I did not want to talk about this, because I hoped to recover. And I did not want to hear a rumor through the city - they say, I fell into senile dementia, I carry all the delirious nonsense. But I can not get well, I realized. Standing on the threshold of death, I want to tell you about the true reason for how I found myself on this threshold.

"Burikov's case" was later investigated by the Rostov researcher of anomalous phenomena Alexei Priyma . He managed to find and interview three friends Burikov, who listened to him.

All of them in their stories stressed the fact that, despite his advanced age, Burikov was a man of keen mind who possessed good memory and an enviable clarity of speech. The interlocutors insisted: until the very last moment the dying man kept himself as a sane person.

The journalist described in detail to his friends the place where he met the crew of the "flying saucer". Together with Burikov's relatives, according to his story, he went to that memorable October day of 1984 on the left bank of the Don.

This beach with its beaches is a traditional holiday place for Rostov people living on the right bank of the river - on the so-called Rostov hills, where, in fact, the city of Rostov is located. Passage reference: along an endless beach on the left bank of the Don stretches a grove, almost as endless.

The weather was wonderful - the Indian summer was in the yard. While his relatives were busy with their bags, laying out simple snacks on the grass, Burikov alone went for a walk along the grove. He passed one of the meadows in the grove, the second, went out to the third and ... gasped! In the middle of the glade stood, leaning on three thin legs, a disk-shaped aircraft measuring seven or eight meters in diameter.

The testimony of the narrators contained clear coordinates of the beach, on which Burikov's relatives arranged a picnic that day. They also contained a clear orientation of the direction in which Viktor Danilovich, according to him, moved along the grove, until he found himself on the very clearing and on a UFO on it.

So, Burikov saw a "flying saucer". In its board was an open hatch, from which a short ladder was launched to the ground. At the same instant, he felt his whole body seem to be filled with lead. "I want to move my arm or my leg, but I can not," he later recalled.

The next moment, Burikov felt like he was picked up from behind behind his elbows and, without a hitch, carried him towards the "plate". Out of the corner of his eye he saw - he was carrying unusually tall, taller than two meters tall, guys in light-silvery overalls, wrapped around their bodies, like a glove hand. Costumes without any hints on the seam or the joint passed into helmets, tight-fitting heads. The faces were protected by transparent glass.

Unfortunately, Burikov did not give a detailed portrait of the UFO operators who took him under the elbows. He called them "handsome men with blood-red pupils".

Victor Danilovich was brought to the "plate" and lowered to the floor. There was a barely audible rumble. The "plate", according to Burikov's feelings, flew. It took no more than three or four minutes, Burikov assured his friends later, and then the rumble broke off. The aged journalist was again picked up by the elbows and taken out of the UFO out.

The landscape that opened to his gaze, Burikov defined as similar to the Caucasus. Mountain peaks stood around, and between them ran a narrow valley. A small mountain stream ran along the valley. And on its shores there stood here and there "flying saucers", many "plates" - seven or eight pieces, like two drops of water similar to the one on which Burikova was brought here to the Caucasus.

Between them roamed the "Martians" in light silvery suits. One of them approached the journalist and began to poke him in the head with a wire twisted with a screw that looks like a tailspin.

"It felt like this," said Viktor Burikov later, "that the wire penetrated through the frontal bone directly into the brain. At moments of her touch, the fire streams pierced my head to the forehead.

Then the old man was again dragged into the "plate" and again, notice, unceremoniously threw, still immobilized, face to the floor. In less than five minutes, Viktor Danilovich stood on all fours in the middle of that damned clearing with which he had previously been abducted. He twisted his head in astonishment, feeling the lead's weight slowly fall from the body. Behind him, there was a rumble.

With great difficulty, Burikov looked around. "Flying saucer", pulling in itself three thin legs - landing support, slowly soared above the meadow meter by three. Hanging for a while in the air, and then the candle went up, disappeared in the sky in a matter of seconds.

Victor Danilovich hobbled, ohay, away. All the bones in his senile body ached, the fireball pulsed in his head. Waves of nausea. Neither the next day, nor a week, nor a month later, he was no better.

Three months later Viktor Burikov died.

Here it is striking: for the entire operation to capture a human individual, delivering it to the base of "flying saucers", exploring the brain with the help of "wire" and returning the specimen to its former place, UFO operators spent no more than fifteen minutes.

The pace is such that one gets the impression that a group of alien captures acted according to a well-worked scenario, using the technique that was probably used by this group (and maybe other similar groups) already repeatedly.