I lay back, leaning my head against the headrest of the car seat, staring blankly out the window. I was tired, the past few days or so's events still fresh in my mind. I hadn't slept, I hadn't eaten, I was in a state of shock... And as I watched the grey countryside roll past my backseat window, I started to go over the past few horrific days.
It was just a normal Tuesday afternoon, or so I thought. For the past hour or so I had been going about, getting everything ready for the next person who was to lie upon my table. Being a pathologist certainly wasn't easy; you were always being kept busy by countless little things. Today I would be examining a body that had been found outside of a nearby village, as we were the closest examiners to the place.
I remember getting confused, a slight feeling of worry about me when the body arrived. There were no notes at all about what state they had been in when they were found, nor anything about precisely where. Putting my thoughts on that matter aside I followed one of the morgue assistants through, snapping on a pair of my latex gloves.
When I approached the body I couldn't help but frown, staring at the face above the white cloth over the rest of the body. The person had no hair, no eyebrows or eyelashes, no doubt the result of a rare disease. I wasn't that concerned, though, the disease wasn't unheard of. It was when we pulled down the sheet that I started to worry.
The person appeared to be genderless, neither of male or female anatomy. I made my assistant take a note of that as I picked up a scalpel, and slowly drew a Y incision into the genderless person's stiffening body. Now that I think of it, it was really when my assistant peeled back the skin that I got truly worried.
I remember stepping back suddenly, gasping as if I had just been shot. Dread swept over me like a wave and I fell down, the smell of the blood, for the first time, making me feel nauseous. I had never felt ill when looking at blood, not even when I was in training. In fact, even my assistant was still standing, despite the fact that he was taken back as well. The body had no organs at all. Bones, yes; but no organs at all.
I tried to stand up as my assistant jogged over to help me, but I just fell over again, dizzy. He helped me over to the computer chair by my desk, and I remember not knowing why I was so worried. It was probably some sort of vile trick, merely a prank. To be honest, I really didn't know what to do.
After the morgue technicians sorted out the body and put it back in what we jokingly like to call the 'Ice Inn', I was left to think to myself at my desk. There was no explanation that first came to mind, but no way the person could have survived without vial components needed in every species. There were no scars on the person's body either; nothing to indicate their organs had been surgically removed, no clue as to how they died.
That night I couldn't sleep at all, the gender-less person's body, the shock of all that had happened plaguing my mind. I kept checking my phone all night, hoping that there would be word from the forensics department. Hopefully the person would be identified soon, matched up by their dental records. It was half an hour later, around three in the morning when I received the text. The person was Zachary Johnson, a mere eight year old boy who had disappeared around three months ago.
After this I finally managed to sleep, but not for long, as I woke drenched in a cold sweat, the person's – Zachary Johnson's – body fresh in my mind. If he was eight, how would he have appeared to be adult? What about the lack of organs? Rigor Mortis had only just started to set in when it, he, arrived. Without organs, no-one can survive.
I can recall being in my office around an hour later when I got another text. The number was unknown, and the words automatically sent a shudder down my spine. 'Evening, Dr. Becky McGee', it said. 'I hope you enjoyed your gift. Young Zachary wasn't needed any more. He was – what's the word? – Expendable. Only to be used once.'
