A man showed up in a German hamlet around 1850 called Brandenburg. Authorities pulled him in for interrogation because he was uncomfortable among strangers. He introduced himself as Jophar Vorin and claimed to be from Laxaria, a nation in "the part of the earth called Sakria." The only European language he knew was German, which he spoke in a bad manner. He claimed that Laxarian was his native dialect; but, he could also write in Abramian, the written language of his country's priestly order, if that was helpful. His interrogators used German. He claimed he was searching for a long-lost brother as the reason he had gone to Europe, or "Euplar" as he understood it.

Despite how perplexing it was, Vorin's story was accepted. There hasn't been much follow-up since then. We only know that he was brought to Berlin for additional questioning. According to one theory, he came from a another time period in which the Ottoman Empire never collapsed. For instance, Vorin's Sakria might have been the incorrect spelling of Sakarya, a region in Turkey. Additionally, he claimed that his faith, known as Ispatianism, was comparable to Christianity. This may be a reference to Hamza of Ispatianism, who wrote about Alexander the Great's invasion of Iran, which bordered the Ottoman Empire.

Although it's an intriguing notion, significant facts are missing. For instance, Vorin said that he was shipwrecked while traveling over the enormous ocean between Sakria and Euplar, which rules out Turkey as his country of origin if Euplar is Europe as his German indicated. In addition, he mentioned Aflar, Aslar, and Auslar in addition to Euplar and Sakria as names for other "portions [or continents] of the world," which correspond to ours quite well. Sakria may have been the North and South combined based on the Americas' noticeable absence. Why then, Sakria rather than "Amerilar"? Perhaps someone from Turkey's Sakarya region, not Amerigo Vespucci, discovered the New World in this alternate history. Possibly never.

Two young children, a boy and a girl, arrived in the English village of Woolpit sometime in the middle of the 12th century. They appeared to have risen alone and puzzled from the "wolf pits" that gave the settlement its name. Their attire was unique, particularly in terms of color, and their language was unintelligible. The oddest aspect of all was the alien-like hue of green that their skin had. Unsure of what to do, the Woolpit villagers brought the kids to Sir Richard de Calne, a knight.

The kids would go days without eating. In fact, they regarded food as alien until one day when, by chance, they came across some freshly harvested bean plants and wolfed them down. They subsequently lost their green tint after being encouraged to eat other foods over time. Despite the boy being sick and passing away, the girl thrived.

After being baptized and given English language lessons, she was able to finally explain where she was from: Saint Martin's Land, a place with perpetual twilight where everything is green and from which, over a river, a place that was considerably brighter could be seen. She was unaware of how she had arrived at Woolpit. The last thing she remembered—which varies depending on the version—was either a loud noise while she and her brother were herding her father's cattle or she had followed the cows through a cavern and emerged (without them) into this realm.

The young woman developed into a "very wanton and impudent" young woman while continuing to live with the knight. She then got married and relocated forty miles away from Woolpit. Writers and thinkers looked back to the tale centuries later as proof of the "plurality of universes."

Sentries guarding Mexico City's Palace of the Plaza Mayor in October 1593 detected something odd about one of their colleagues. Even though he marched, turned, and saluted appropriately, his uniform seemed strange. Additionally, he had a completely bewildered expression. It discovered out that his outfit was from Manila, which is 14,000 km to the west. He acknowledged he was stationed in the Philippines when the Guard Captain questioned him. However, he was unsure of how he arrived to Mexico.

Even stranger, it took him less than a day to arrive. Because he was aware that the Governor of the Philippines had been assassinated the day before, he was certain of this. Gil Perez was imprisoned to await the Inquisition because he was thought to be working with the Devil.

But it was obvious that Perez was as puzzled by his teleportation across the Pacific as everybody else. He didn't appear to be a sorcerer, by any means. After several months, word that the governor had been killed finally arrived on a ship from the Philippines—exactly as Perez had predicted. Inquisitors freed the unusual soldier and gave him permission to return home because they were at a loss for what to do next.

A family on a hiking trip in Isdalen, Norway, discovered a woman's corpse early on November 29, 1970. It was surrounded by items that were badly charred, including jewelry, a watch, a shattered umbrella, and bottles. Later, forensic investigators claimed that these had been arranged in a way that suggested "some sort of ceremonial." Authorities were especially perplexed by the erasure of identifying evidence, though.

She had had labels torn off of her clothing and her name scraped off of items, not just at the scene but also in few luggage. These were retrieved from a train station, and the woman's fingerprints were found on them. She had obviously traveled much throughout Europe. She was starting to resemble a spy, in fact. After all, the Cold War was still ongoing. Her travels were also far from random, according to the Norwegian Intelligence Service, as they were dictated by the advancement of Norway's top-secret Penguin missile system.

But in the end, the matter was resolved. Her death was ruled a suicide because there wasn't enough information to solve the mystery. Hope for finding the Isdal Woman has only recently been revived. Her teeth have undergone isotopic analysis, and it appears that she was born in or around 1930 in Germany, not far from the French border. It's a beginning.

Hyouryuukishuu (Tales of Castaways), a Japanese work from the Meiji Period, claims that an alien ship crashed in 1803 close to the village of Harashagahama in what is now Hitachi Province. It was hollow, three meters tall by five meters wide, and had a flying saucer-like appearance. However, most of it was constructed of wood. A young, pallid woman, maybe no older than 20, was inside. She was holding a tiny wooden box in her arms, which she kept to herself.

She wasn't from Japan, based on her unusual language and red hair. Locals returned her to the sea after talking about the situation. She must be an exile, they reasoned, thus this must be her lot. They speculated that she may have cheated on her husband and, because she was a princess, had managed to avoid death by choosing exile.

In actuality, this wasn't the first time a hollow craft, or utsuro-bune, had washed up on the shore. A similar incident involving a woman and a man's severed head occurred at a nearby beach. Perhaps it was in the package this time.

A hot, sunburned, naked man was discovered one morning in the summer of 2004 in Georgia by the dumpsters of a Burger King. He was believed to be dead since he was not breathing. His skin was raging and covered in fire ants. But he was still alive and appeared to be in reasonable physical health based on a checkup. He had a psychological issue.

He squinted his eyes shut and screamed when touched while in the hospital. He also couldn't remember his name. His nickname among nurses was BK Doe. In actuality, he didn't remember much of his past. He believed he had been in the woods for 17 years, but the only thing he was certain of was his birthdate, which was August 29, 1948, two days before he was discovered.

He changed his name to Benjaman many months later. He claimed that it seemed familiar, and until he learned who he was, Kyle would serve as his surname. However, this proved elusive. Nobody, including the police, FBI, US Marshals, Canadian authorities, or Interpol, was aware of his identity. Media, missing persons organizations, TV viewers, and internet users did not either.

He wasn't finally identified until more than ten years later through DNA matching. William Burgess Powell was his name. He'd simply never had many links, either social or familial, being from Lafayette, Indiana. He lost 20 years to a fugue condition for unknown reasons, however it is assumed that at this time he adopted the name Benjaman.

A well-dressed Caucasian man arrived in Tokyo by plane from someplace in Europe in July 1954. He informed customs that he was in Japan for work and that this was not his first visit. He was proficient in Japanese in addition to French and Spanish. However, his country was not listed on his passport, therefore there was a problem.

There are now two different versions of this story. One (the internet version) claimed that his passport, which was heavily inked with stamps from Europe and Japan, was issued in a location known as Taured. Zegrus believed that there was a country between France and Spain that had existed for 1,000 years despite conventions to the contrary. However, he understood what they meant when given a map. There was a place called Andorra where Taured ought to be. Zegrus was gonna visit a corporation that had never heard of him. Both lacked his motel. He didn't exist on paper. Untrustworthy officers secured him a room and kept him under observation all night. He left in the morning, leaving behind his possessions and passport, which had been kept out of Zegrus' sight.

This is the internet version, as noted, complete with some improbable claims that he was a time traveler or from another dimension. But even though it has been greatly inflated and changed, it is not a total fabrication. In 1960, a guy by the name of John Zegrus did enter Japan using an odd passport; the British parliament debated the matter. Tamanrosset, the capital of Tuarid, was where his passport was issued. Additionally, it was written in a foreign tongue. Contrary to the internet's Taured, the actual nonexistent Tuarid was reportedly a sub-Saharan African nation. Later, during his trial, Zegrus identified himself as "a naturalized Ethiopian and an intelligence agent for Colonel Nasser." He received a one-year prison term.

Locals at Sandy Cove saw a man in his 20s hoisting himself down the beach one day in 1863 while he was missing both legs. He wanted to die, so he was walking toward the Fundy Bay tide. And when assistance arrived, he was only five feet from the water. He was adopted by the people and slowly restored to health.

Jerome was the name he gave, though it wasn't entirely apparent that it was his.

He just stated Colombo, which may have been the name of a ship, when asked where he had come from. As the days turned into weeks, months, years, and even decades, he said very little else. Although his hosts were financially sponsored by the Nova Scotian government, nothing else was discovered during this time. Jerome grumbled more than he spoke and preferred to write when he could or would.

In the meantime, word of his tale traveled far and wide, and the guy gained popularity. He was a wounded naval officer to some, and a nobleman who had been dismembered as payback to others. Yet some believed he was an unauthorized immigrant. For a while, it was believed that one of the more plausible theories—that he was a lumberjack whose legs had frozen in the winter—was accurate. But the complete narrative is still unknown.

According to legend, a 19th-century man was observed in New York City in June 1950. The 30-year-old man appeared to be confused and was walking around aimlessly before being struck and killed by a cab. He was dressed in vintage buckle shoes and other historical apparel. He was found to have been carrying pre-1870 bank notes, a letter from 1876, a 5-cent token for beer at a saloon, and a livery bill for the upkeep of his horse when authorities searched his body.

Additionally, he had a business card with his name and address on it. But these turned out to be fruitless. Fentz wasn't even listed as a missing person or in the phone book. A detective eventually discovered a listing for a Rudolf Fenz Jr. Eventually, a detective discovered a record for a Rudolf Fenz Jr. in a 1939 directory.

This brought them to Fenz Jr.'s now-elderly widow, who said that Fentz Sr. had vanished in 1876. Jr. was still a youngster when he was 31 years old. It's an intriguing story that has remained a mystery for many years. However, it now seems to be untrue. It originates from Jack Finney's 1951 short tale "I'm Scared," according to Snopes.

Even now, the mystery surrounding Kaspar Hauser's infamous appearance at Nuremberg in 1828 is unresolved. The bewildered small boy claimed to have lived his entire life alone in a cellar, subsisting solely on bread and water, and sharing it with a toy horse. Hauser handed two letters to the Nurembergers who discovered him despite the fact that he did not speak German. One was from the laborer who provided for him, and the other was from his mother, who explained that his father had been killed in the cavalry and gave his name and birthdate. However, concerns about the boy persisted.

After being successively adopted by a teacher and the 4th Earl of Stanhope, Hauser grew up and was given a position as an office clerk. And if not for his tragic passing at the age of 21 after being stabbed, we might not have known anything about him. It's unclear whether this was a suicide or murder. In either case, it eternally obscured his lineage and his destiny. Since then, other theories have been put out, including the one that he was the hereditary Prince of Baden, a claim that DNA has since refuted.