"Alright then, let us get a good look at him shall we?" The flip of a switch sent beams of white light shining through the room lighting up the counter full of surgical tools and the metal table sitting in the middle of the laboratory. "Just my luck getting another one like this right before I was set to head home for the night. Knew it was gonna be a drag of a day..."

Turning on the faucet the doctor began washing his hands a must for any working in this field. "First they were doing construction on the road so I was late..."

Reaching in a box the doctor slipped on a pair of gloves as he began looking for his mask.

"Even worse still the ice machine broke so my drink was warm..."

His mask now strapped to his face the doctor took a glance at the table behind him no real motive or emotion behind doing so.

"...And now I'm here doing this when I should be at home watching the huttball game. Unbelievable."

Pinching the end of the white tarp the analyst pulled it away unsealing the sickening vision underneath. "What in the hell!?" A man, human it seemed with horrible blackened burns covering the left side of his face oozing body fluid and decaying flesh spilling onto the table below. In some places where the skin should have gone pale blood still seemed to flow as these patches retained their color as though oxygen still remained within the body. While his eyes still examined the body the doctor felt an old feeling in his arm a sort of weight being placed on it.

Actually, that's wrong. What he was feeling is more like a magnet drawing him toward the corpse he was meant to be analyzing...freaky. "Hey wait a sec...where'd my glove..." Feeling cold air on his exposed hand the doctor frantically searched for his left glove only to find it resided in his tightly clenched right fist. Did I take this off? Why would I do that? And why don't I remember it happening it could have only been a second ago...

The doctor quickly banished the thought from his mind. He was simply being paranoid after all an irritable day will do that to you especially in a place like-"Eugh!" Raising the hair on his arms the doctor felt his fingers wrap around something cold and moist the leathery sensation almost like...skin. Daring to look down the doctor found that he had indeed touched the man's forehead without his knowledge or consent. He quickly jerked away his hand and brushed off the burnt skin flakes thoroughly disgusted with himself. "Why would I do that!?" The sensation returned and with it the displacement of the doctor's hand.

This time however in spite of his protests the man was unsuited to move his hand away as sharp, acute pain ran through it like it had been nailed to the corpse's expressionless face. All around the laboratory seemed hazy...unreal. The walls grew fainter and less opaque and the tiled floor began falling into nothingness tile by tile until nothing of the room was left behind but the corpse and the table it sat on. Powerless to move. Powerless to feel or think the doctor stood there on a floor that didn't exist staring at a world that's never even been conceived. Was this real? Or in his mind? Perhaps this is some sick combination of both it didn't matter. He was here now in a realm where nothing existed but a sack of meat he was paid to cut up.

All this time. All this time he spent existing in the void the doctor never moved his hand, not an inch away from the corpse. It had become an anchor of sorts. A tether that kept him hooked to what he remembered as the real world, the world where he could walk and breath, the world where life could be felt wherever once stood and endured. The world that had now been wounded. Cut open in the same manner the doctor had intended to cut open this body.

"It's disappointing, isn't it? To cut something open so decorated, so enticing. And yet find nothing inside. That's life, isn't it? To be hyped up on all these fantasies, all this hope. And just be disappointed if you don't find what you were looking for."

Remarkably the dead began to walk amongst the living as the corpse until now flat against the table stood up and removed the hand caressing its forehead. The skin and bone tissue it walked with was horribly disfigured with scars peppering the flesh and decay rotting away what wasn't broken.

"You see this is why no one can ever find the answer to the question I keep asking. What is it to live? What is it to wake up with no purpose? No aspiration. No hope. Can one truly count themselves among the living when their existence doesn't affect the ebb of life? Similarly, can one truly be counted amongst the dead when the world still shakes from the mark of their impact? There is but no one who understands this. Understands what it means to live without a life. Without a soul. I will educate, teach on this query. And I will be heed even if I have to consume every living thing to do so. I don't remember...Why I do this... "

"I was given this dream...by another. Even now in this state, I understand that the dream I pursue now is not the one given to me. It's warped. Corrupted. Not even the base concept remains. The fact that desire stands however is enough to force me to continue. To continue my crusade. What I want...you now want as well. You can fall into darkness. Consumed by the void. Or you can try to comprehend life without...without a soul."