Sandalwood and Lavender Guest Publication By Anonymous,

The scent of lavender and sandalwood filled the sun-drenched yoga studio, a sanctuary for Elena amidst the storm of her divorce. 

Her husband, Mark, had left her for someone younger, a betrayal that echoed in the hollows of her heart. 

Yoga was her only solace, a way to reclaim the peace that had been stolen.

One sweltering afternoon, during a particularly deep savasana, a strange sensation washed over her. 

She felt a lightness, a floating sensation as if her consciousness was detaching from her body. 

Panic flared, then curiosity. She looked down and saw her own form lying on the mat, still and serene. 

She was…out of her body.

Elena cautiously explored this newfound ability, this astral projection. She drifted through her apartment, observing her sleeping son, Daniel, his brow furrowed even in slumber. 

She even ventured outside, soaring above the rooftops of the city, the world spread out beneath her like a glittering map. 

It was exhilarating, terrifying, and utterly addictive.
What Elena didn't know was that she was being watched. 

An unseen presence, an entity of immense age and malevolence, had sensed her burgeoning power.

It was an old man, trapped in the spectral realm, his own life force long extinguished. 

He craved a physical vessel, a way back to the world of the living.

He observed Elena’s projections, studying her technique, waiting for the opportune moment.

He knew that during these out-of-body experiences, her physical form was vulnerable, a vacant shell waiting to be occupied.

The day came during another yoga session. Elena, more confident now, projected further than ever before, exploring the ethereal planes. Meanwhile, the old man’s spirit, a wispy tendril of darkness, slipped into her unguarded body.

The sensation was jarring. 

Elena’s astral form snapped back, but it was too late. 

She was locked out, a prisoner of her own making. Her consciousness beat against the walls of her former body, now occupied by the ancient, malevolent spirit. He had taken over.

He felt the lingering echoes of Elena’s mind, her memories, her emotions. He saw Daniel, her son, and a cruel smile twisted his lips. 

He had access to everything, even her knowledge of the stock market, which he used to amass a fortune far beyond anything Elena had ever dreamed of.

Elena’s mind was trapped, a silent observer within her own skull. She watched in horror as this imposter, wearing her face, and her body, interacted with Daniel, feigning maternal affection.

She tried to scream, to move, to alert someone to the horrifying truth, but she was powerless. She was a ghost in her own life.

The old man, now living as Elena, thrived. He was more ruthless, more cunning, and more successful than Elena had ever been. 

He even started dating again, attracting the attention of younger women, a twisted echo of Mark’s betrayal. 

Elena’s prison was complete. 

She was not only robbed of her life but forced to witness her stolen identity being used to perpetuate the very pain she had tried to escape. 

Her astral projection, her escape, had become her ultimate torment. 

The lavender and sandalwood scent in the yoga studio now masked the stench of a stolen life.