Uploaded December 2025 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
It began with a coin. And when the coin vanished, a scientist’s certainty about our place in the universe unraveled.
On September 11, 1976, Dr. Herbert Hopkins—a respected Maine physician known for his research on multiple sclerosis—was alone in his Old Orchard Beach home, reviewing hypnosis tapes of a UFO abduction case that had unsettled even his clinical mind.
The case involved a young man named David Stephens, who claimed he’d been taken aboard a ship by mushroom-headed beings. Hopkins had conducted the regression hypnosis himself. He was intrigued. Troubled, even. But not afraid. Not yet.
Then the phone rang.
A man introduced himself as the vice president of a New Jersey UFO research group. He had questions about the Stephens case. Could he stop by tonight? Hopkins said yes. He hung up and flipped on the porch light—only to find the man already climbing the steps.
The man wore a spotless black suit, creased like a department store mannequin. His skin was porcelain white. His lips, as Hopkins would soon realize, were painted on. A smear of lipstick across his gloved hand revealed the truth: there was no mouth beneath the red...
It began with a coin. And when the coin vanished, a scientist’s certainty about our place in the universe unraveled.
On September 11, 1976, Dr. Herbert Hopkins—a respected Maine physician known for his research on multiple sclerosis—was alone in his Old Orchard Beach home, reviewing hypnosis tapes of a UFO abduction case that had unsettled even his clinical mind.
The case involved a young man named David Stephens, who claimed he’d been taken aboard a ship by mushroom-headed beings. Hopkins had conducted the regression hypnosis himself. He was intrigued. Troubled, even. But not afraid. Not yet.
Then the phone rang.
A man introduced himself as the vice president of a New Jersey UFO research group. He had questions about the Stephens case. Could he stop by tonight? Hopkins said yes. He hung up and flipped on the porch light—only to find the man already climbing the steps.
The man wore a spotless black suit, creased like a department store mannequin. His skin was porcelain white. His lips, as Hopkins would soon realize, were painted on. A smear of lipstick across his gloved hand revealed the truth: there was no mouth beneath the red...
