One cold December night in Fayetteville, North Carolina, I witnessed something that would haunt my thoughts for years. It was the 20th, just after 10 PM, when a peculiar figure painted itself against the dark sky. A circle, neither static nor mundane — its colors a blending mix of haunting blue and red hues. This glowing orb moved with unsettling life, shifting and pausing in the air without any hint of smoke or the fiery trail of a rocket. It traced a curious J shape, descending slowly, then suddenly shooting upwards with a speed that defied explanation.
For a tense ten seconds, this enigmatic circle held my gaze. Then, as abruptly as it had appeared, it ceased all movement—becoming motionless, a frozen enigma against the vast night sky. Moments later, it vanished entirely, leaving behind only silence and a flood of questions.
This fleeting event, devoid of any earthly exhaust or recognizable propulsion, seemed to defy the known laws of nature. The spectacle bore the quality of something otherworldly — an encounter that felt both intimate and profoundly inexplicable. Reflecting back, the experience unfolds like a tale from a Ramsey Campbell story, where the ordinary slips into the uncanny, leaving a lingering chill and an insatiable curiosity to understand the unknown.