The Bizarre Tale of Dr. Jonathan Reed: The Man Who Claimed He Killed an Alien—And What Happened Next?

In 1996, a man entered a Seattle radio station clutching a VHS tape, claiming it contained proof of an alien he had killed in self-defense.

This man was Dr. Jonathan Reed, and the tape purportedly showed a small, dark body—a sight too strange to fabricate, yet too unbelievable to accept.

Within days of making his claim, Reed’s life began to spiral out of control.

His home was broken into, friends went missing or stopped communicating, and every attempt he made to present his evidence was thwarted by unseen forces.

If it was all a hoax, why were there such efforts to erase it?

 

 

Reed was an outdoorsman, often escaping into nature with his dog, Suzy, a camera, and some snacks.

On a typical October day in 1996, he set out for a short hike in the Cascade Mountains, about 60 miles east of Seattle.

He planned to take some photos and return home by sunset, unaware that his life was about to change forever.

The day was calm, the ground damp with pine needles, and the sound of trickling water filled the air.

Reed was no stranger to these trails; he had packed the essentials: trail mix, a small knife, two cameras, and a thermal blanket.

As he hiked, Suzy suddenly bolted ahead, barking with a wild urgency that quickly turned to panic.

Reed sprinted after her, calling her name, hearing the sounds of branches snapping and leaves crunching underfoot.

Then, he heard an unexplainable high-pitched vibration, like metal grinding underwater.

When he broke through the brush, he froze at the sight before him: Suzy was locked in a violent struggle with a small, grayish creature, no taller than four feet.

Its skin shimmered, almost vibrating like a heat mirage, and its limbs appeared unnaturally thin.

Before Reed could comprehend what was happening, the creature struck Suzy in a way that defied logic.

Its arm—or something resembling an arm—opened like a pod or tentacle and stabbed through her.

Reed watched in horror as his beloved dog collapsed, her body dissolving into a pile of ash before his eyes.

The forest fell silent, and Reed’s body went cold.

Instinct took over; he grabbed a heavy branch and swung it with all his might, striking the creature’s head.

The alien crumpled to the ground, a faint whine escaping before it fell silent.

Reed dropped the branch, panting, the metallic smell of burnt wires filling the air.

He backed away, shaking, trying to catch his breath, unable to process what he had just witnessed.

When he finally gathered the courage to approach the alien, he realized there was no blood—just a faint dark residue where he had struck it.

Then, he heard a low, steady hum coming from deeper in the woods, compelling him to follow the sound.

 

 

In a small clearing, he discovered an object hovering above the ground, about eight feet tall and black as obsidian.

It absorbed light, pulling it inward, and when he touched it, a cold sensation shot through his hand.

The moment he slapped the surface, a numbness spread through his arm, forcing him to recoil.

Whatever this thing was, it was not of this world.

Reed stumbled back to where the alien lay, lifeless and still.

Desperate for proof, he pulled out his camera, but every attempt to focus resulted in distortion and static.

Still, he persisted, knowing he needed evidence to validate his experience.

Realizing he couldn’t leave the body behind, he wrapped it in a thermal blanket, shocked by its light weight—only 50 to 55 pounds.

The trek back to the trailhead felt interminable, as he constantly checked behind him, fearing he was being watched.

Halfway back, his watch stopped, and he felt an unsettling tightness in his chest.

When he finally reached his Jeep, dusk had fallen, but something felt off.

The drive back was unnaturally quick, and when he looked down, his torn shirt from the earlier struggle was miraculously whole again.

Confused and disoriented, Reed passed the ranger station, which was dark and empty, and chose not to stop.

That night, he opened the rear hatch of his Jeep under the flickering garage light, revealing the perfectly wrapped body inside.

With nowhere else to put it, he placed the bundle in his freezer and stood there, hours passing without sleep.

His rational mind, honed through years of psychiatry, struggled to make sense of the situation.

Maybe it was a hallucination, or perhaps an unknown animal.

But when he checked the freezer again, the cold weight inside felt all too real.

What happened in those woods would soon catapult Reed into a world of secrecy and danger.

He emerged from the forest that day with what he claimed was an alien body, unaware that an eight-minute video would become one of the most discussed pieces of UFO evidence of the 1990s.

 

 

Reed’s footage wasn’t a distant light or blurry saucer; it was a close-up encounter with what he believed was an extraterrestrial being.

As he unwrapped the metallic blanket, his friend Gary whispered in disbelief, revealing a creature that neither looked human nor like a doll.

Reed described the skin as dark and thicker than human skin, with a strange pinkish-blue tone that appeared both dead and alive.

Then, a faint gurgling sound came from the body, causing both men to jump back in fear.

Reed insisted on documenting everything, despite the growing unease.

He noted the creature’s odd features: its oversized head, dark pinkish eyes that reflected light, and a small mouth with needle-like teeth.

The tongue was blue-gray, flat, and ridged, reflecting a metallic sheen under bright light.

Reed examined the creature’s body, initially believing it was naked, but he soon realized the texture felt like fabric fused to skin—no seams or openings.

When he attempted to cut a small section, the surface behaved like gelatin, sealing itself back up as soon as he withdrew the blade.

After the initial examination, Reed began collecting samples—tissue, blood, and even brain matter—using tools from his research kit.

However, the chain of custody for these samples became a nightmare.

Reed admitted he had no formal lab processes, no sterile environment, and no certified witnesses.

By the time he approached experts for analysis, much of the biological material had degraded.

He claimed to have sent portions of the samples to independent scientists under fake names to protect them from government interference.

One name that surfaced frequently was Dr.

Herald Chicon, a microbiologist who supposedly found traces of copper embedded in the tissue, far higher than in humans.

Chicon allegedly noted red corpuscles with elongated nuclei, unlike anything seen in human blood.

Most strikingly, he claimed to identify 46 chromosomes, the same count as humans, but with nine anomalous markers linked to marine life.

However, no one ever saw official lab documentation, and attempts to trace Chicon led nowhere.

Speculation arose that Reed had fabricated the scientist to bolster his story.

Despite this, Reed maintained his claims, insisting he witnessed the analysis and that his samples were stolen during a break-in that conveniently erased his evidence.

 

 

What followed was a series of strange encounters and escalating paranoia.

Reed reported unmarked cars appearing near his property, always the same black sedans with men inside, seemingly conducting surveillance.

When his friend Gary called in a panic, saying he had been followed home, Reed realized his fears were not unfounded.

One night, a vehicle allegedly tried to run him off the road.

Then came the organized raids—unmarked vans invading his home and searching for something specific.

The freezer containing the alien body was gone, along with his film reels, notes, photographs, and biological samples.

Even his trusted friend Dolly, who had helped him archive materials, was found dead in her home under suspicious circumstances.

Reed became aware of the quiet pressure of being watched, with phone lines clicking and static, and strangers loitering near his mailbox.

His friends began to distance themselves, and some who had seen the footage stopped returning his calls.

Reed’s life unraveled as he was systematically erased from university records, and his credentials were called into question.

As his banking accounts were frozen without explanation, Reed found himself living out of his car, constantly looking over his shoulder.

What began as a moment of scientific curiosity turned into a nightmare, stripping him of his livelihood and reputation.

The media portrayed him as a hoaxer, and every attempt to share his evidence was met with ridicule.

By the late 2000s, Reed had become a ghost, with no known residence or job, only occasional appearances at fringe UFO conferences.

Then, he re-emerged with a new ally, Robert Wraith, who claimed to help Reed bring his truth to the world.

Under Wraith’s guidance, Reed’s narrative shifted from the alien body to a mysterious metallic bracelet he claimed to have found.

This artifact supposedly had the ability to interact with energy fields and open portals.

Reed began describing psychic contact with entities connected to the alien, framing himself as a messenger for a cosmic alliance.

However, inconsistencies began to surface, with Reed’s story evolving from a grounded encounter to a mystical journey filled with spiritual revelations.

As Reed’s narrative expanded, so did skepticism, with critics questioning his credibility and the authenticity of his claims.

 

 

In early 1999, Reed attended a small UFO conference in San Diego, where he planned to unveil new evidence.

However, on his way home, he was shot in the shoulder by a man who calmly walked away after the act.

Instead of seeking medical attention, Reed called his team, who treated him privately.

This incident marked a turning point, as Reed began portraying himself as a target of a coordinated effort to silence him.

As his story transformed from a close encounter to a government cover-up thriller, skeptics began to dig deeper into his background.

Royce J. Meyers III, the creator of UFO Watchdog, focused on exposing fraud within the UFO community.

He discovered that Reed’s claims of being a doctor were unfounded, with no records of his existence in medical databases.

Instead, Reed was allegedly Jonathan Ruer, with a background unrelated to medicine, including past credit card fraud cases.

As Reed’s storytelling became increasingly inconsistent, skeptics compiled charts to track the contradictions, revealing a narrative that was morphing into something unrecognizable.

Despite the growing skepticism, believers continued to defend Reed, arguing that he was a victim of a larger conspiracy.

Ultimately, the truth behind Dr. Jonathan Reed’s story remains elusive.

Was he a liar, a victim, or a pawn in a larger game?

What is clear is that his credibility has been so thoroughly dismantled that even if he once held evidence of extraterrestrial life, it no longer mattered.

The best way to bury a truth is not to hide it, but to make the person telling it appear insane.

As the story of Jonathan Reed fades into the realm of ghost stories, it serves as a cautionary tale about the fragility of truth and the power of perception.

 

 

If you want to learn more about what happened to Reed after he vanished from public view, stay tuned for the next episode, “The Disappearance of Dr. Jonathan Reed.”

And if you’ve already made up your mind about his story, the next part might just change everything.