In the quiet town of Suwanee, Georgia, on the night of May 20, 2012, I found myself captivated by an unsettling spectacle. Just as the clock neared 9 PM, four distinct crafts, each marked by a solitary red light, appeared low in the sky—surely less than 5,000 feet above the ground. Their movements were deliberate, a slow glide through the night air, their silence profound and chilling.
At one point, two of these lights lingered together, drifting from the five o’clock to the eleven o’clock position in relation to me. Suddenly, one light altered its trajectory, veering directly toward my location with an uncanny precision that sent a shudder through my senses.
The whole encounter lasted maybe five minutes—long enough to send me scrambling back to my car to retrieve my phone and video camera, desperate to capture evidence of this enigmatic visitation. Yet, by the time I returned, the lights had vanished, leaving behind only a haunting silence and the lingering question of what I had witnessed.
This experience, steeped in the kind of slow-building dread and surreal mystery reminiscent of Ramsey Campbell’s storytelling style, invites us to ponder the unknown that occasionally slips through the veil of our everyday world. What were these red lights? Were they utterly silent crafts from beyond, or something else entirely?
The night of May 20th remains etched in my memory not for any graspable explanation, but for the chilling reminder that the skies above Suwanee hold secrets still waiting to be uncovered.