This happened about two years ago now, and I can’t keep quiet about it much longer. Officially speaking, my name is Jimmy Davis, once known as the young man who went missing for a week in central Wisconsin. The NDA I signed says otherwise. I don’t remember my birth name, to be frank. All I remember is the events leading up to my new life.
James Richard Davis is dead. He died under mysterious circumstances during a missing persons investigation. He was the missing person. When they found me on the edge of that marsh, struggling to breathe, they had exactly what they were looking for.
I had dubious beginnings at best. No record exists of me anywhere. I was just some nobody who got pulled out of a marsh during a missing person’s investigation, who happened to look kind of like the guy they were looking for. If it weren’t for company-mandated background checks and fingerprints for summer camp staff, the investigation would have been concluded then and there. But nothing matched up, my story, my fingerprints, nothing.
The search continued for three more days, only concluded once they found Jimmy’s lower jaw, and used dental records to confirm it. The rest of the body was never officially found, but the remains they did find led to confusion that the investigators decided wasn’t worth it. I saw the photos of the body. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what had been done to his body. I’ll spare you most of the detail, but his face had been ripped off, his right arm was missing, and his chest had been opened, forcefully.
The owners of the camp employed me for the remainder of his contract under his name, but around a week after the worst had blown over, I was walking alone in an isolated part of the campground. I wasn’t far from where the jawbone had been rcovered, when I noticed I was being followed. Someone I had never seen before was approaching me. The figure walked silently, hiding whenever I turned to look. As I kept getting glimpses of the figure, I saw that they were clad fully in white. I could not see any of their skin, and because the circular mask that they wore had no holes, I did not know if they could see me.
I kept moving, desperately trying to keep my cool, until I saw something glowing up ahead. it was a faint red glow, hidden under something. I forgot about my pursuer, and walked towards the object, almost entranced by the pulsating glow. as I got closer, I saw that the thing, whatever it was, was obscured by a battered uniform shirt. I pulled the shirt aside to find a human heart, glowing red, and still beating, against all logic. I jumped back, about to scream, but a gloved hand pressed itself over my mouth before I could let out a sound.
The cloaked figure was silent, but efficient, bringing me to the ground before I got the chance to resist. I watched in horror as a gloved hand reached out and grabbed the heart.
More chilling was the whisper that followed.
“Eat it or you die.”
That is all I remember from that night. The following morning, I woke up in my bed, I wasn’t feeling great, but I felt reasonably confident that I could fulfill my duties for the day. The following day was Friday. I felt awful, but I had a strange sense of duty to get up and help. I started feeling feverish around lunchtime, and by dinner, I could hardly taste my food. By closing campfire, I was horribly fatigued and the health officer dismissed me to my quarters. That night, I slid in and out of consciousness. When I slept, I was plagued by nightmarish dreams, and when I awoke, fearful hallucinations shook me to my core.
On Saturday morning, I woke up feeling better. I showered and ate breakfast, but it was only when I looked in the mirror did I notice something different. The face that stared back at me, I recognized it. It wasn’t mine. I was staring at the face of Jimmy Davis. I also had memories, new memories, unfamiliar memories in my head. Memories of a life that wasn’t mine.
I was able to fully take his place because of what happened, but I’ve already lost a lot of what makes me who I was beforehand. I don’t know what killed Jimmy Davis, but I’m hunting for information. I can’t post this anywhere else, because I don’t know who else will listen, and if the authorities find out that I violated the NDA I’m as good as dead.