The trail had been empty for hours. At least, that's what Ethan thought. He and Ryan had been hiking together all afternoon, winding through dense forest where the trees crowded together like spectators around a secret. Ryan walked a few paces ahead, humming an old song they'd loved as kids. It was comforting. Ryan had always been comforting. Ethan smiled. "You still remember that song?" Ryan glanced back. "Of course I do." The answer felt wrong. Not the words. The voice. For a moment, Ethan couldn't remember what Ryan's voice actually sounded like. The thought vanished as quickly as it came. They kept walking. Hours later, the unease returned. Ryan was talking about fishing trips they took as teenagers. The stories were detailed. Too detailed. Ethan stopped walking. "Ryan." His friend turned. "What lake was it?" "What?" "The fishing trip. What lake?" Ryan stared at him for a second too long. Then he smiled. "The one we always went to." A chill crawled up Ethan's spine. They'd never gone fishing together. Not once. The realization hit him like cold water. Memories began to unravel. Birthday parties he could suddenly see Ryan wasn't present at. School photos without him. Vacations where he'd never existed. Entire decades of friendship crumbling apart like rotten wood. Ethan stumbled backward. "Who are you?" Ryan's smile widened. Too wide. The face remained Ryan's, but it looked borrowed now. Worn like a mask. "You know me," it said. "No." Ethan backed away. "No, I don't." The forest had gone silent. No birds. No wind. Only the thing wearing Ryan's face. "You weren't supposed to remember yet." Ethan turned and ran. Branches whipped his face as terror flooded through him. Behind him, he heard footsteps matching his pace exactly. Not gaining. Not falling behind. Following. Waiting. Then he heard Ryan's voice. His real voice. Faint. Desperate. Coming from somewhere deep in the woods. "Ethan! Don't look at it!" The footsteps stopped. So did Ethan. The voice behind him sighed. Not Ryan's voice anymore. Something older. Something hungry. Ethan slowly turned. Ryan's face was gone. Whatever stood there seemed unable to decide what shape it wanted. Limbs bent the wrong way. Features shifted and slid across skin that rippled like water. Ethan finally understood. Ryan had never been on this hike. He had come alone. The thing took a step forward. And all at once, every false memory vanished. There had never been a friend beside him. Only this. Following him since the trailhead. Learning him. Rewriting him. Waiting for the moment he realized the truth. The thing smiled with a hundred borrowed faces. Then the woods became silent again. When search teams found Ethan's backpack three days later, they discovered only one set of footprints leading into the forest. None ever came back out.
"<-o.o-<<
wait i remember readin this one before