Hijacked

Charlie's fingers danced across the aged leather pouch, eager to empty it of its goods. He grinned as metal clattered against the surface of his desk, admiring the emerald studded ring that fell from within. He'd had his eye on it for a while. It was calling out to him, begging him to buy it. He checked that antique store almost daily, hoping someone else wouldn't snatch it up before he had the chance. Then finally, he'd saved enough money, and here it was, in his possession. He lifted it up in his hands, admiring the simple design.

"Finally! It's been years!"

He gasped, and spun around. "Hello?" Charlie called out to his empty house. "Dad? Are you home?"

"I ain't your dad, kid!"

There it was again! A deep voice that was so clear in his head, it was as if they were in the room with him. Yet there was nobody about. "Who are you?" He called out. "Where are you!?"

"Cool it, kid. I'm right here in your hands."

He looked at the ring in his palm. "Wait... My ring can talk?"

"Not talk, per say," the voice explained. "More like mental communication via physical contact. I'm in your mind, kid."

"Oh... Well I'd prefer it if you weren't, Mystery Voice."

As Charlie proceeded to place the ring back on the table, the voice called out. "Woah, woah, woah!" It screeched, bringing him to a sudden halt. "Ain't you curious as to why I'm communicating with you?"

He was. But Charlie also knew that nothing good could ever come from cursed jewellery. Yet he couldn't unclench his fist. He sighed. "Okay, I'll bite."

"Glad to hear it," the voice replied with a snarky tone. "I was once as human as you. Eric's the name, and smuggling was my game. Real high quality stuff too. But someone didn't like me trading on their turf, and got their goons to off me. It was real gruesome, they slit my throat, and everything. But my will was too strong, bonding my soul to the ring you're holding now. I've spent years in this gussied up form, mulling over how I can move on, until someone salvaged me, and put me up for sale. Then you came along, and you rescued me."

"So you're a trapped ghost..." Charlie pondered the ramifications of his purchase before shaking his head in pity. "I'm sorry, but I don't know the first thing about exorcisms."

"Please! I'm begging ya. The only way you can help me is by putting the ring on. You wouldn't leave a poor guy trapped in purgatory. I can tell you're a good kid..."

Charlie clutched the ring tight, hovering his hand over the pouch it came in. The whole situation was sketchy AF. But Eric was right, he was a good kid. he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he abandoned someone in need. Charlie sighed, and put the pouch down. "Okay, but only because you were expensive, and I don't think I can return you..."

He placed the ring on the tip of his ring finger, the polished metal unnervingly warm to the touch. With his delicate fingers, he pushed it over his knuckles, admiring how it looked on his hand. 

"Thanks kid," the voice exclaimed. "You've done more than enough."

With that, Charlie's vision began to blur. He felt numb, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to move his body. Even lifting his arm was strenuous. Eventually, he couldn't keep standing. His legs collapsed underneath him. He struggled to keep himself awake.

When he regained consciousness, something wasn't right. His vision was impaired, he felt more like he was watching a movie on a cinema screen. He still felt numb, and colder than ever. Yet he was already standing, and moving. He tried to lift a hand, yet he felt severed from his own body. All he could do was watch as his body performed by itself.

"It feels so good to move again!" He heard himself say. His body was pulling faces in the mirror, "It's a pity some pipsqueak took the bait, but I'll manage..."

Finally, Charlie found his own voice. "Hey! What the fuck is happening!?"

"Wh-" His body stopped, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're still around? Great..." 

"Of course I am, this is my body!"

"No, you were supposed to assume my place in the ring..." His vision darted to the emerald ring now on the bedside table. "It ain't right having two blokes in the same body."

"Then get out! You can't just take over my identity!"

"Of course I can. I just did. You really think it was an accident I ended up in that ring? I was left for dead, and losing consciousness fast. So I concocted a little blood magic. Is it really unethical if it's your own blood? I bonded my soul to that ring, hoping one o' them goons'd come and pilfer my corpse. Then I'd possess his body, and all would be well. But no, now I'm in this puny form."

"You don't like my body? Then get out!"

"Okay, I admit your body is a tad cramped for my liking..." Eric rolled his shoulders, and clicked his neck. "But like I said, I think I can make it work." He clenched his entire body, his face twisted in concentration. "Nngghhh..." He pushed with all his might, until there was a horrible squelching noise. Charlie could only watch on in horror as his body began to morph itself in a grotesque fashion. It was like watching a horror movie. He couldn't look away, he couldn't feel the pain, he was detached from the horrors, yet engrossed in its proceedings.

His limbs reached abnormal sizes, and his torso barrelled outwards until his clothes couldn't handle the increase in mass, ripping to shreds of fabric that piled around his feet. From there, he could see dark swirls of hair billow up and across his increasingly beefier frame. It wasn't until Eric stopped grunting that Charlie could see the full effect of his terrible transformation. When he stepped in front of the mirror once more, Charlie's gut would've turned if he still had one. If his body wasn't his own after being possessed by the vengeful ghost, there was no denying the fact now. Instead of the timid teen he was used to, he was now looking at a buff, hair-covered man.

Eric couldn't help but roar in success. This powerful body was more than he had expected to obtain. He just had to show off the goods, preening in front of the mirror. "Not bad... Talk about a bitchin' upgrade!" he said with a smile as he flexed his bowling ball of a bicep. "Hard to believe you had this much potential burning up inside that lame, little body of yours. With guns like these, I could rival Rocky himself." He rubbed at his dark beard, his hand lingering on his chin, then grabbed at his pecs with a smirk. "My old body was never this buff. And I'm so much hairier than I ever used to be. Though maybe a little less up top..." Finally, his eyes were drawn downwards. "And this cock, now I'm really packing some heat!"

Charlie could only watch on as the stranger reached down to his hardened member and gave it a little rub. "What did you do to me..." he uttered quietly.

"Well, I was hoping someone a little more mature would've been the one to put me on. Beggars can't be choosers, but I wasn't gonna spend the next decade as a spotty nerd."

"Hey, I'm sixteen!"

"You were sixteen, now you're a disembodied voice. Funny how that happens. As for me, I'm not sixteen. Youth is overrated, after all. I focused whatever magical prowess your wimpy former body possessed so I could accelerate the maturation process and bring me back to my proper age. And it feels so good! I feel so much more at home in my own skin, more like myself again."

"But nobody's gonna recognise me! I'm practically as old as my dad..."

"You're just not getting it..." Eric whacked his head a few times, making Charlie's vision spin out of control. "This ain't your body no longer. It's mine!"

"You can't..."

"Of course I can, kid," Eric replied as he gripped the emerald ring between his fingers and held it aloft. Charlie's vision splintered and turned a hazy shade of green. He was no longer looking at a mirror, he was dwarfed by the massive, hairy man he was previously inside of. Trapped in the ring. Eric tilted his head, and smiled. "You put your trust in the wrong guy. Maybe you'll find another body to possess someday. But it ain't gonna be this one!"

It couldn't end this way! Before Eric could grab the pouch, Charlie cried out "Wait, you need me!"

"I need you?" Eric cackled.

"You do! The world has changed a lot since you died. You're going to need someone to guide you in this new world. Like... Uhm..." Eric moved just enough for Charlie to spot something on the table in front of him. "That black rectangle over there."

Curious, Eric reached over to pick it up, and the screen flickered on. He looked unimpressed, mumbling "Okay... So it's some fancy light-up clock."

"No, it's my phone."

"Phone?" Eric scoffed, and almost tossed the ring aside. "That's bogus, kid. There ain't even any buttons."

"You don't need them. It's a touchscreen." Charlie watched as the man fumbled with the screen, engrossed by how it reacted to his touch. He continued, "everybody has their own personal phone these days. And it's not just a phone. It's a clock, a camera, a TV, a games console, library, record player, musical instrument... Really, just anything you can imagine. All in your pocket."

"Fuck me..."

"And if you're anyone under fifty who doesn't know how one of these work? Well, you're gonna have some trouble fitting in. People might get suspicious..."

Charlie could sense the gears turning in his former body. He knew Eric would want to keep a low profile, but would it be enough? Finally, Eric's slumped his shoulders, and groaned, "okay, kid... I s'pose I'm gonna need a guide to the future." Charlie sighed in relief. Maybe he'd find a way to regain his body after all, even if it was now grossly adult. "Then again," Eric continued in a foreboding voice. "That doesn't mean I need you sharing the same body as me." 

If Charlie still had a gut, it would have dropped as the comforting warmth that surrounded him vanished in an instant. Eric smirked as he dropped the ring, into its leather pouch and chucked it onto the table.

"Sorry kid," he mumbled aloud, knowing full well that the ring would still be able to hear him. "Nothin' personal. I just don't want some pipsqueak yammering in my ears 24/7."

He proceeded to rummage through the house, until he found some half-decent clothes, some money, and some valuables he could pawn for extra cash. Which would be a great way to get rid of the kid too, he reasoned. When he no longer needed the brat to guide him through this newfound digital age. This was his body now. He'd made his mark on it too, he thought as he stroked his dense beard. How he missed having a beard to stroke, almost as much as he missed having a cock to do the same. Now wasn't the time, though. After admiring his reflection once more, Eric grabbed the leather pouch once more, feeling its contents burning up with anxiety and anger, and shoved it into his inside pocket. It was time for a new beginning, and he wasn't giving it up for anything.