Tricked into giving up my body - Part 1 (Patreon)

Gretel, with her old hands and a face mapped with wrinkles, sat across the table from Bess. She was the perfect victim. She was a young nerdy woman who sought for truths and secrets that were beyond her need to know. She wanted to speak with her dead relatives – a foolish thought. These types of people were perfect for what Gretel had in mind, especially since they were the most likely people to believe in magic. Believing in magic was one of the major cores of being able to experience it. Her youthful enthusiasm had unknowingly made her the perfect target, and Gretel, craftier than she looked, was ready to exploit it. 

They held hands across the table, their fingers intertwining. Gretel’s frail and age-spotted hands felt alien to Bess. She felt a peculiar sensation, like cold tendrils snaking up her arm. A sickly-sweet smell permeated the air, a scent that was as cloying as the dull candlelight flickering on the table. “This is the final moment to back out,” the old woman said. “Do you still want to proceed with speaking to the souls of the afterlife?”

“Yes,” she whispered as the dark spell immediately engulfed them. That was the final piece she needed to finally initiate the spell – consent. Gretel’s lips twisted into a wicked grin, her laugh piercing the silence while Bess obliviously stared. It was a chilling sound, rich with years of cunning and deception. As the laughter echoed through the room, a rush of wind whipped around them, extinguishing the candles, plunging the room into an eerie darkness. The very air around them seemed to vibrate with the power of the spell.

The sensation was jarring, like being plunged into icy water. Bess's eyes widened in shock and fear as she felt her consciousness being ripped from her body, her spirit swirling in a vortex of dark magic before it was sucked into Gretel. She screamed as loudly as she could, but nothing came from her bodiless soul while the spell engulfed them. Simultaneously, she could feel Gretel’s soul, old and shrewd, replacing the void left in her own body.

It was a horrifying and disorienting experience. Bess could see herself, young and full of life, staring back at her from Gretel's body. Yet, it was not her reflection in the mirror-like eyes but Gretel's. She felt the strength drain from her body, replaced by the feebleness of old age while her mind became used to its new vessel. Her legs felt heavy, her back hunched with years of burden. She looked down at her hands, her once supple and youthful skin now marred with age spots, veins standing out like topographical lines on a map. “N-No…”

Across the table, Gretel, now in Bess's body, laughed once more, the sound strange and alien from the young woman's throat. “Yes,” the body thief purred. “Yes … yes … YES!” She crossed her arms, and the sight of her own youthful arms, now controlled by the old woman, sent chills down Bess's spine. Gretel brought her soft hands together and caressed her new skin before clapping them together. A spark of yellow light filled the room, causing Bess to flinch.

She had no idea what to do at this point. And now, it was too late. The fear was palpable when she looked into the body thief’s eyes. Bess knew that she had to tell somebody, so when she tried to let out a deafening scream in hopes of getting an outsider’s attention, she was shocked to notice that something was blocking her throat. She could still breathe, but it was almost like something was preventing her from speaking.

“Save your breath,” Gretel giggled. “I put some bindings on you that didn’t activate until after the spell was done. You can’t use magic in that body now, and you can’t even speak. Nobody will ever know that you’re a young girl trapped in that weak, pathetic body.” She leaned forward and tilted her head. “And guess what – you can keep it. This body’s all mine…”