As you watch helplessly from the floor, it’s hard to make out exactly what your hands are doing. As best you can tell, they seem to be attempting to draw something over and over and either failing or changing their mind, as it looks like the lines keep getting erased before they form anything. After several apparently failed attempts at drawing, they pause for a moment then begin filling the space your head should currently occupy with a shape you recognize.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you see a rough outline of a hand sticking straight up from between your shoulders. Within the instant of a blink, the outline is gone and you begin to see the shape of a real hand developing. The process is hard to make out from your perspective, but it’s like your eyes keep flicking to notice new details, and while you focus on one area, the hand becomes more corporeal in another. Although you never get the impression of anything directly changing in front of you, within mere moments, the crude drawing is completely replaced with a full, flesh and blood hand, which begins to wiggle fingers in apparent experimentation.
Bewildered and unable to do much more, you feel the need to vent your exasperation.
“What the hell is going on?!” you half-shout, pleased to find you can still speak in this state at the least.
You didn’t think your body or whatever it was that seemed to occupy it now would pay you any mind, if for no other reason than that it didn’t have ears with which to hear you, but it stopped what it was doing. The arm currently holding the pencil passes up to the strange head-hand, then your body walks over and stoops down over you. With no further warning, you’re suddenly scooped up, the world blurring in front of you with dizzying speed as you’re turned to face your captor.
Your body holds you out at arms length, almost at eye level. Or at least, it would normally be eye level, but instead of looking back into a pair of eyes, you find yourself staring at the hand sticking out from your body’s shoulders, which is holding the pencil with the tip facing you. You have the feeling of being stared at in consideration, which is only all the eerier because you can’t meet the gaze in return.
“Uh, hello? Can you hear me?” you ask, completely unsure of how to navigate this situation.
The hand nods. This just keeps getting weirder.
“Oh. Uh, good then, I guess. Could I, well, could I have my body back now please?” you ask.
The hand shakes back and forth. You suppose that’s a no.
Before you can ask another question, the hand begins using the pencil.