As a child (about 40 years ago), my mother used to live in a small town as in southern Saskatchewan called Carrot River.
The town’s income from outward sources mainly came from farming, as there wasn’t any sort of tourism to speak of. One of these farmers (I think his last name was Morris) came home to his wife and child one night and was said he was seeing things. He didn’t really go too far into it as far as I know, but if he did, the conversion didn’t really spread around.
The next day, his brother and him went out in the afternoon to check on the crops. Four or so hours passed, but his wife thought nothing of it. She assumed they had went into town for a couple of drinks (it was a common thing for most men in that area). A couple more hours passed and she decided to go check out in the field. Walking a few feet from her doorstep, she noticed her husband’s pickup out in the middle of the crops with the taillights on. She made her way over to the truck and found everything in the cab of the vehicle, including the windshield, melted. The only thing remaining inside was the steel toes on the farmer’s boots.
Over the next couple of days, the police investigated their deaths, but couldn’t figure out what happened. However, they did find a few disturbing things during the investigation. First off, both of the doors were locked and the windows were rolled up (keep in mind it was Summer). Secondly, it looked like they had been driving in circles for a good half hour by the amount of tire tracks in the field. It seems like they were trying to get away from something, but nobody’s really sure what.
I’ live in Bogotá, Colombia, and my parents live in a nearby rural county. Two years back, while, hiking across the mountains nearby my parent’s country-house I took a route I hadn’t taken in years accompanied by a pair of dogs (A German Shepherd and a Siberian Husky), I had been walking for a couple hours and was, for all effects, in the middle of fucking nowhere, in mountains that look like this. Then I see, in the distance, a bunch of guys wearing camo suits and military equipment. Now, Colombia’s got a bunch of paramilitary groups ranging from communist guerrillas to far-right “self-defense” militias… all of them pretty dangerous, so I take the dogs and climb out of the road, waiting for them to pass, just to keep my paranoia at ease.
Then, when I reach the top of the mountain I see a small guy, dressed in the way of the local peasants (a heavy wool ruana], felt hat and brown cotton pants) sitting in a rock while smoking a cigar. They (local peasants) say that when you see an apparition you should ask “¿de Dios o del Diablo” ([do you come] from God, or from the Devil?, in spanish), so I jokingly say it in an attempt to break the ice and start a conversation. The guy turns around and answers “de ninguno, sumercé, pero puedo darle razones a ambos” (“from none of them, your mercy*, but I can send your message to both”) with a voice that I can only compare to Tom Wait’s…
A second later I hear a voice behind me: it’s a soldier, apparently he spotted me hiding from their patrol and when to check me out, when I turn around the peasant was gone and the soldier didn’t knew what I was talking about, but my dogs where staring blankly at the stone where he was sitting. I have no clue who the guy was, or if I imagined the whole thing, but I swear I wan’t that tired.