A Las Vegas museum is strongly rejecting a Texas mother’s claim that one of its plastinated human bodies is actually her son — a belief she has carried for more than a decade and cannot let go of. What started as a suspicion after an unexpected death has grown into a deeply personal investigation filled with grief, unanswered questions, and a feeling that something was never quite right.
Kim Erick’s son, 23-year-old Chris Todd Erick, died in 2012. Police reported that he suffered two heart attacks caused by an undiagnosed heart condition while staying at his grandmother’s home in Midlothian, Texas. His father and grandmother handled the arrangements and chose cremation. Kim received a necklace said to contain part of his ashes, but even then something felt off. The official explanation seemed too neat, too fast, too controlled for a mother who knew her son’s habits, health, and behavior.
Her doubts grew when she looked through police photos taken after his death. She believed she saw bruising and marks on his limbs — signs that looked to her like possible restraints or mishandling. She fought for answers, and in 2014 a homicide investigation was eventually opened. But detectives found no evidence of foul play. They concluded the marks were normal postmortem changes and signs of emergency efforts to revive him. The ruling stayed the same: natural causes.
But Kim couldn’t move on. Grief needs answers, and when answers don’t come, the mind tries to fill the gaps.
Years later, an unexpected moment reignited all of her fears. In 2018, Kim visited Real Bodies, a Las Vegas anatomy exhibit featuring plastinated cadavers. Among the figures was a seated, skinless body known as “The Thinker.” When Kim saw it, something inside her snapped. She became convinced it was Chris.
Her reaction wasn’t just emotional. She believed the skull on the figure showed a fracture identical to one in Chris’s medical history. She thought the area where Chris had a tattoo seemed intentionally removed. The posture, the features — everything struck her as too familiar to ignore. To her, this wasn’t coincidence. This was her son, displayed under bright lights for the public.
Kim demanded DNA testing, insisting it was the only way to settle the matter. The museum immediately refused. They said the body had been obtained legally from China long before Chris was even born and had been part of the traveling exhibit since 2004. Their records, photographs, and the plastination timeline all contradicted her claim.
But the refusal only strengthened Kim’s suspicion. To her, a transparent organization would agree to DNA testing if they were truly confident in their documentation. She argued that plastination can take years and that the chain of custody for cadavers sourced from China has long been controversial. She didn’t trust the museum, and the more she pushed, the more she felt she was being dismissed.
Then something happened that made her suspicion spike again: “The Thinker” disappeared from the exhibit. The museum removed the body, giving no public explanation other than “routine rotation.” Kim tried to trace its next location, but couldn’t. To her, the timing felt too perfect — as if the moment she raised serious questions, the figure was quietly taken away.
For Kim, this wasn’t proof — but it was fuel.
Her fears resurfaced in 2023 when hundreds of unidentified cremated remains were found abandoned in the Nevada desert. Authorities believed they came from a local mortuary that mishandled bodies, but Kim saw another possibility. If ashes could end up discarded in the desert, she argued, why couldn’t a cadaver be mislabeled or mishandled on its way to a museum? She knew it wasn’t direct evidence, but it reinforced her belief that institutions can make terrible mistakes — or worse.
The museum has never wavered. They insist the claim is baseless. They cite paperwork showing the cadaver was legally donated in China long before 2012. They reference archived photos of the body’s preparation and say the plastination timeline makes it impossible for it to be Chris. Investigators repeat that there was no foul play in his death, no problems in the cremation process, and no way that human remains from Texas ended up in a Las Vegas display.
But official statements don’t heal emotional wounds. Kim keeps fighting because grief doesn’t respect paperwork. Her son died suddenly at 23. She wasn’t part of the cremation decision. She received a necklace instead of an urn. She saw photos she can’t forget, bruises she still can’t explain, and a plastinated body she believes matches her son far too closely.
In her mind, even the smallest possibility that the exhibit’s figure is Chris means she can’t stop. She says no mother would remain silent after seeing something that resembled her child in such a disturbing way.
The museum sees it differently. To them, this is a tragic misunderstanding — a grieving mother connecting dots that don’t connect, driven by heartbreak instead of evidence. They say their records are solid and that the removal of “The Thinker” had nothing to do with her accusations. They acknowledge her grief, but not her conclusions.
Still, Kim continues searching. She contacts journalists, urges investigators, and follows every lead — no matter how small — hoping for clarity. Her persistence isn’t driven by conspiracy theories or attention. It’s driven by love and by the painful reality that she still doesn’t understand what truly happened the day her son died.
Now the situation is at a stalemate: institutional certainty versus personal conviction. The museum stands by its documents. The police stand by their findings. But Kim stands by her son, refusing to accept a story that has never felt complete.
Her journey is messy, painful, and unresolved — the kind where closure isn’t given, it’s pursued. And after more than a decade of searching for answers, she shows no signs of stopping.